#and I wouldn’t go back to his baby days because frankly babies are really hard

[eddiemunsonswhxre]

Hi could you do an angsty one shot where Eddie cheats on the reader? Or when the reader thinks he’s cheated and they argue? Whatever you feel like, thanks 😊

think this is my fav angst i've written so far, thanks for the request

infidelity / eddie munson

part two

cw: cheating/thoughts of cheating, cursing, overall just a lot of angst and tears

sometimes it's hard to know what you want.

--

eddie never meant to make meeting with chrissy cunningham a regular thing. but she was a really sweet girl who was struggling and eddie always had to be a savior. so when she kept asking to meet him during lunch out in the woods, he kept going. and eventually, he began asking her to meet him and before he knew it they were hanging out there most days of the week and hiding it from everyone. even you. 

at first you didn’t notice and frankly didn’t care. you weren’t obsessive over eddie because you were confident in his love for you. at least you thought you were. he kept disappearing though and he wouldn’t give you an answer. if he did he lied, which was stupid because he was so easy for you to read. it just didn’t make sense. so, you decided to skip fifth period and see just where he kept disappearing to during his lunch hour. lucas had admitted to you that he wasn’t at lunch much anymore, but was secretive of where he was going. the boys had all assumed he was meeting you. 

so there you were, stood behind the bleachers as you watched eddie stand near the entrance of the woods while looking around for someone expectantly. what you didn’t expect was to see chrissy cunningham running up to meet him. you didn’t freak out, you knew eddie was the only one in school who sold drugs and who were you to judge if people needed them or not? but then he held open his arms, engulfing the giggling blonde in a tight hug. you felt a sharp pain in your heart as you watched him guide her into the woods, arm slung across her shoulder as she wrapped one around his back.

you debated running after them and confronting them, but you were smarter than that. running up at them a screaming and crying mess would get you nowhere. you needed evidence. so, you acted as though nothing was wrong when eddie came up to you after school and gave you a kiss as he did everyday. but you couldn’t help but wonder if those lips had been against someone else’s. 

“so, uh, i think we need a date night. what do you say the movies? friday night? they’re replaying nightmare on elm street since the new one’s coming out in a month or so, i know you love that movie,” you ask with a smile. eddie’s smile falters and he gulps nervously. 

he scratches the back of his neck, hoping he doesn’t seem like he’s lying. “i’d love to, baby, but i’m supposed to hang out with gareth and the guys. saturday though?” he asks with a fake smile. you didn’t want him to know you had caught on.

you pulled away from him and nodded. “yeah, saturday, i’ll call you about times?” you say. he nods and smiles. “alright, i’m gonna head home,” you say, holding the strap of your bag tightly.

“you don’t want to come to hellfire?” he asked confused. you almost always came to watch. 

you shook your head no. “nah, i’m not feeling too good,” you shrugged.

eddie frowned. “oh, well, go rest and get better, okay? maybe i’ll stop by later,” he says stepping back up to you. “i love you, babe,” he says and it hurt so much more than it ever has. you couldn’t shake what you'd seen today, and how did you know he even meant it anymore? he pressed a kiss to your forehead and you nodded, turning and heading to your car as tears stung your eyes. 

it was currently wednesday, so you planned on interrogating one of eddie’s minions that wouldn’t crack if eddie were to question him. so that’s how you ended up at hard-headed mike wheeler’s house at 9 o’clock on a wednesday night. to say he was shocked to see you sitting on his bed in his dirty bedroom would be an understatement. “y/n?” he asks, looking back at nancy who just shrugged and went to her own room. 

“hey, mike,” you said hoarsely, not bothering to try and hide you’ve been crying. 

mike looks at you in confusion before slowly closing his door and dropping his bag. “not trying to be rude, but why are you here? in my bed… and crying?” he asks cautiously approaching you.

“just know if you tell anyone what we talk about in here i will chop your tiny dick off,” you say aggressively pointing at him.

“my dick isn’t- nevermind. yeah, i won’t tell anyone. to be honest, y/n you’re kind of scary,” he says, cautiously sitting on his own bed across from you. “now, can you please tell me what’s going on?” he asks.

you sigh, wiping a tear from your eye. “i think eddie’s cheating on me,” you spoke quietly.

mike’s jaw dropped. “no way,” he says causing you to give him a look. “i-i mean, he’s like obsessed with you, he talks about you like all the time. even refers to you as his princess, it’s kind of weird honestly…” mike continues. 

“but has it been the same recently? have you noticed a change in, i don’t know, the past month i think?” you ask, chewing on your nails.

mike thought back and he hated to say it, but he did. “y/n… do you really think he has the ability to cheat on you?” he asks, struggling to believe it.

“so you have noticed something,” you observe, feeling as though you may throw up. 

mike bit his lip and looked away. “he just, doesn’t talk as much about you. i just thought maybe since you’ve been together so long that he didn’t feel like he needed to? in the beginning he was worried about us hitting on you, on his bullshit about how we couldn’t look at you in the wrong way and so on but obviously we caught on quickly. he also misses lunch like a lot, we figured he was with you but lucas said that wasn’t it. i know he sells, but he doesn’t get that much business,” mike explains. a couple tears fall from your eyes and mike feels awkward but just looks down at his hands. 

“he’s been going to the woods behind the football field, with chrissy cunningham. i saw them today,” you said brokenly.

mike furrows his eyebrows. “chrissy cunningham? you’re sure, like, jason’s girlfriend?” he asks and you nod. “holy shit…” he mutters. 

“i asked him to hangout friday, they’re playing nightmare on elm and it’s like his favorite movie. but he said he’s hanging out with gareth. can you find out if that’s true? maybe ask what everyone’s doing and get back to me?” you ask. mike chewed on his lip as he thought. he didn’t want to betray eddie, but if he was cheating…

if eddie was like a male parental figure for the guys, you were definitely like a mother. you always gave the boys rides home if they needed it, you’d bought them pizza, and even tried helping them get girls. “yeah, i’ll ask tomorrow at lunch. it’s hot dog day, for some reason he thinks they’re amazing,” mike comments causing you to laugh. it was true, eddie for some reason loved those nasty ass hot dogs. 

so the next day at lunch, mike did just that. he was normally shit at being subtle, but luckily dustin first brought up the topic of weekend plans. almost everyone had answered except eddie. “so, eddie. what about you? doing anything tomorrow or the weekend?” he asked nonchalantly. eddie looked up, mike almost wanting to laugh at the fact his mouth was actually full of hot dog. 

after swallowing, he wipes his mouth and looks at him. “yeah, i’m going to see nightmare on elm street tomorrow night. you know they’re showing that shit?” he smiles, taking another bite. a pit forms in mike’s stomach. he wasn’t hanging out with gareth. 

“oh, cool. cool. you going with y/n, you both love that shit?” mike pushes and eddie gives him a nervous look. he looks at mike, his eyes flashing somewhere else in the cafeteria before he pulls himself back together. 

he nods, looking around the table. “uh, yeah. y/n and me are going,” eddie confirms. mike purses his lip, looking down to his tray as he thinks. telling you hurt, because he saw your eyes water before thanking him and leaving. so you made a plan, you were going to go to the movie and see if eddie was there. if he was with chrissy, you’d confront him at his house after. 

so that’s where you stood five minutes before the movie started. there were only doing one showing tonight, and knowing eddie he would’ve arrived here thirty minutes early. he always made you do that. you paid for a ticket and stood outside the door to the theater, trying to psych yourself up to go in there and see something that might break you inside.

you took a final deep breath and walked into the theater. you peaked around the corner of the wall separating the entrance from the seats and scanned up the crowd. you avoided looking at your seats first, scared of what you might find. you and eddie always sat in the same place, and when your eyes finally fell on it, you wanted to throw up. 

in his usual seat sat your boyfriend, and in yours was chrissy cunningham. he had his arm on the back of the chair, like he always did for you and they were laughing, eating popcorn from a bucket on chrissy’s lap. you turned around quickly, running out of the theater and back to your car. the second your door closed you broke down. all you felt was pain.

eddie was your everything. in a world where you had no one, you thought you would always have eddie. you spent months in your relationship finally getting comfortable with the fact that he actually wanted you after no one had. and now? pretty cheerleader, queen of hawkins high, chrissy cunningham had his attention. you cried in your car for about an hour, and when you could finally see straight you drove to his trailer and sat on the steps, waiting for him to come home. you just prayed chrissy wasn’t with him. that would break you more than anything. 

you sat impatiently, bouncing your leg until you heard the tell-tale sign of metallica coming from his van. soon, his headlights were blinding you until his engine cut. “baby?” he asked as his door opened, it quickly slamming shut as he walked quickly up to you. “baby, what are you doing here, it's getting cold?” he asks, standing in front of you. 

“how was your movie?” you asked in an empty voice and eddie felt his blood run cold. 

he looked around nervously before opening his mouth. “what do you mean? i-i was with gareth-”

“i saw you, eddie!” you yelled, looking up at him. “i was there! i knew you were acting weird and i find you with chrissy fucking cunningham?” you scoff, lowering your voice now that you had his attention. 

eddie was in shock. “i-i can explain,” he said and looked at you like he was genuinely in pain.

you raised your eyebrows, “then explain.” 

eddie opened his mouth, searching for words but he didn’t have any. he didn’t know how to explain what he’d been doing or what has been going through his head. “i love you,” he whispered desperately.

you scoffed in disbelief and stood up. “no, you don’t,” you sneer at him. 

eddie mouth goes dry. “i do, y/n, i love you,” he tries reassuring. you shake your head, lip quivering as you feel tears well up in your eyes once more.

“then why are you cheating on me?” you ask with a broken voice.

eddie grabs you by the arms to get you to look at him. “baby, i’m not cheating on you. me and chrissy, we- we’re just friends,” he says desperately. you shake your head, bringing your hands up to your face. 

“no,” you mumble. and eddie opens his mouth to respond. “you meet her three times a week. you hide in the fucking woods with her. you hug her like she’s- like you hug me. you lied to me, you took her to your favorite movie, and-and you put her in my seat!” you tell him, voice rising as you go as you try ripping away from his grip.

eddie shakes his head, eyes filling with tears. “no- babe, it’s not like that,” he cries, trying to grab you again. 

you cry as you shove him away. “then what’s it like? because you know i wouldn’t have cared if you and chrissy were just friends. but you lied and kept it all from me. you chose her over me, you’re treating her exactly how you treated me before you asked me out. you took her to see nightmare on elm street,” you say, emphasizing the title while staring deep into his eyes. 

“i thought she would like it, it’s nothing else!” he says.

you turn from him as you take a deep breath. “was that your first time hanging out with her, outside of school?” you ask.

“yes, baby, i just thought she’d-” he starts.

“you took her on the same first date you took me on. on that date, we had our first kiss. on that date, you asked me out. and now? it’s not even ours anymore,” you say, eddie’s heart dropping with every sentence. he totally forgot that was 'your movie.'

he shook his head and reached for your hands once again. “y/n, it’s still ours, it will always be ours,” he said, tears visibly falling. 

you let out a sob that broke eddie’s heart. “you kiss her?” you ask.

“no, no, baby, i didn't kiss her,” he says immediately and you know he’s honest. that takes the tiniest bit of hurt away from you. 

you take a deep breath before asking the next question. “but you like her?” you whisper. eddie shakes his head no but you notice the unsureness behind his eyes. “don’t lie,” you continue.

eddie runs a hand over his mouth and spins around, running his hands through his hair. “i don’t know,” he finally admits, scaring himself. you choke back a sob, feeling like everything in your life is a lie. “but, i do know that i love you,” eddie says, walking up to you. 

you shake your head once more, feeling your whole body become heavy with helplessness. you felt like you were gonna throw up. “don’t,” you say, feeling your mouth begin to salivate as you hold out your hand. “don’t say you love me if i’m not the only one,” you say and then gag.

“but it’s true, i’m in love with you, y/n, please believe me,” eddie begs trying to get closer to you. your hands fall to your knees as you heave and then suddenly you’re throwing up whatever you had eaten earlier. “woah, baby,” eddie said in a worried tone, immediately reaching forward to hold your hair and rub your back as you continued throwing up. once you are able to stop and stand, you push him off of you.

you wipe your mouth, more tears filling your eyes. “don’t call me that,” you say, stepping back away from him.

“y/n, please. everything can be fine. look i-i’ll stop talking to chrissy. that’s no problem, i’ll do anything,” he begs.

you close your eyes, your head was starting to hurt from all of this. “eddie, i can’t be with you when you have feelings for someone else,” you say.

eddie lets out a huff, trying to hold back a sob. “i don’t have feelings for her, i-i don’t think i do. i know that you’re who i want, i never questioned that,” he explains. 

“you still lied to me,” you say.

the sob leaves his lips. “i know and i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. but please, y/n, you are the only one i want. chrissy is nothing compared to you,” he says.

“i need to go home. i need to think. i need a break,” you say seriously, taking a deep breath. 

eddie starts to shake, his lip trembling. “what? a break? like… from us?” eddie croaks.

you nod and brush past him, walking to your car. “we’re done, eddie. go figure your shit out with chrissy,” you say, feeling completely numb as you do.

eddie runs after you, grabbing your arm and turning you to face him. “baby, please don’t do this. i do not want chrissy, you are it for me,” he emphasizes his words, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. tears streaming down both your faces.

“if that’s true then a break won’t change that. i’m not changing my mind,” you say and eddie’s head falls forward as a sob rocks through his whole body.

he sniffles and hiccups before meeting your eyes again. “so this is it?” he asks in the most heartbroken voice you’d ever heard.

you look away from him, not wanting to cry more. “goodbye, eddie,” you whisper, waiting for him to take his hands from you.

eddie cries, leaning his head down to rest against yours. “i’m sorry i did this to us,” he whimpers, causing you to screw your eyes shut in pain. 

“eddie…” you trail, watching him look at you through his tear-filled brown eyes. “let me go,” you say quietly, watching him shut his eyes.

he shakes his head no, stroking your face with his thumb. “i can’t. i love you, i want to marry you, y/n. i can’t just let you go,” he sobs. everything he was saying was making you want to stay, but you knew it would be a mistake if you did.

“eddie, you have to. i need space, please,” you beg. eddie gave you a final, heart broken look before backing away slowly. “goodnight, eddie,” you say quietly and open your car door. 

“i love you,” he desperately tries once more as your car door closes. you pull out of his driveway and head home, tears clouding your vision as you go. eddie pulls at his hair and falls to his knees, sobbing at the fact that he just lost you. eddie was feeling more pain than he’d ever felt in his life, and he didn’t even know what to do with himself at this point. 

#stranger things eddie #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #eddie munson fanfic #munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie #stranger things #eddie munson angst #angst

[morganbritton132]

Eddie goes live two days before he is supposed to leave for his Vegas shows, mainly to remind his fans that they added another night so tickets were available but also to talk about his favorite subject, Steve. He’s all smiles and giddy, sitting in his car.

He looks into the camera and says, “Do you hear that? I don’t know if the speakers are picking up the frankly ear-shattering volume of Tears for Fears emitting from my house right now, but I can hear it in the driveway. I fucking hate this band and Stevie knows it.”

“We are two days out from Vegas and he’s stepped up his passive-aggressive bullshit, so you know what?” Eddie grins. “I’m going to romance him so hard that he can’t keep up the act. So, come along. We’re planning a date.”

Eddie goes to four places – a flower shop, a fancy chocolate store, the grocery store, and Steve’s favorite restaurant for take-out. He gets a big bouquet of flowers. He gets a ridiculous amount of chocolate. He gets the cheesiest romcom he can find on Blu-Ray, a bottle of cheap wine they got when they moved into their first apartment together, and ice cream.

“I know, I know,” He says to camera as he’s walking through the store. “I can see the comments now – Eddie Munson’s idea of romance is the same as your broke ex-boyfriend, or whatever. Steve and I have been together since the eighties, we’ve done all the big grand gestures, and what you learn is that being together is the only thing that matters.”

Eddie drives home and walks into the kitchen where Steve is baking – something he only ever does for school functions and when he’s really pissed off – and he turns off the Tears for Fears album. Steve looks up at Eddie with his chocolate and flowers and says in a voice that is full of barely-concealed anger, “Are those for your best friend, Diane?”

There’s a pause and then Eddie says in a voice that completely drops the Eddie Munson larger-than-life persona that he adopts for online into something instantly annoyed when he says, “Are you fucking kidding me?“

“I don’t know, Ed. Why don’t you text Diane and ask her since you want her to know all of our fucking business.”

You can only see the pattern on Eddie’s reusable grocery bag when he drops everything on the counter, but you can hear how tense it is in the room when Eddie laughs, “You are so fucking unbelievable sometimes. You’re pissed at me because I asked our neighbor for her number that you wouldn’t give to me. I’m taking precautions because I’m leaving town, Steve.”

“Why’d we get a fucking dog then, Eddie?” Steve asked, snapped at him. “I didn’t want a dog but we got one to reassure you. To put your mind at ease and – and it doesn’t fucking matter? You’re still going to go behind my back and talk about my shit to – to fucking Diane like I’m not even a part of the conversation? If Ozzy’s not enough why do we have him? Why not hire a fucking nurse if you think I’m so incapable-“

“I don’t think-“

“You’re treating me like a baby that you need to find a babysitter for.”

“You cracked your skull open and laid on the ground for days the last time I went out of town! You were non-responsive. I thought you were dead. I trust Ozzy. I think he’s enough but what if he’s not? I’m sorry that our neighbors hate you and I had to ask the one you don’t like, but I’m not apologizing for worrying.”

Steve starts to respond but that seems to be the moment that Eddie realizes that he’s still live streaming because it cuts abruptly. He does not post anything for the rest of the day.

When he does post again, it’s a short slideshow of him and Steve having the date night he’d planned and a short little apology for ‘Mom and Dad’ fighting. The video is captioned ‘All good.’

<- Last Post | Next Post ->

#live streams that go from oh!? to oh no!! #I debated this one because I think it’d be awkward to witness #Steve seems like the type to sit with his anger until it blows up and Eddie gets loud when he’s confronted #they don’t fight often and never for very long but there’s yelling #Diane casually mentioning Eddie stopping by to get her number and just ruining Steve’s whole day #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie munson tiktok saga

[happy-hermit]

LAST LIFE SCAR ANGST PART TWO BABY :D

Thank you everyone for your enthusiasm with this fic akdkjdh it really kept me going. ( @stiffyck this is still for you)( @hopepetal here’s the tag u asked for I love your writing by the way I’m so happy you like this fic alskjdjd)

Part One

———

A few days pass where nothing and everything happens in equal measurements. The returned hermits work on settling back into normal — well, relatively normal — life, and they tend to only see each other in passing. They get caught up in old and new projects, filled with an urgency that came from being away for so long.

Scar himself spends most of his time gathering items. It’s mindless, repetitive work. Time consuming. Calming, almost. It’s boring enough that he doesn’t think anyone will bother to bother him. (He ignores the way his chest pangs at the thought. It doesn’t matter. It can’t.)

Jellie follows him around most of the time, even if he can’t always see her. She’s a comforting presence, and he knows that she’s only there because she wants to be. He doesn’t have to write up a contract to convince her to stay. She’s there for him. It’s just… nice, is all. To know that.

Scar wanders around with shulker boxes full of wood and leaves and sand and he pretends that he’s not avoiding everyone. It’s not like he doesn’t see them at all, and in fact he always grins and waves when he happens to run into someone. He just — doesn’t stay long. Doesn’t want to overstay a welcome he isn’t sure he has.

Daytime is easier. He can be busy during the day. He can forget. At night, though, he lays in bed and he hurts. His chest aches, and he’s cold, and he’s alone, always. Jellie is there, sure, and she counts, of course, but—

Well. Jellie can’t hug him. She can’t talk to him. She doesn’t know why he’s sad.

More than once, he finds himself outside of a Boatem member’s base in the dead of night, hand poised to knock and heart tugging him forward. He can’t do it, though. He doesn’t really know why — doesn’t want to think about it for too long. He’s pretty sure his mind would lead him back to an isolated mountain with a single bed set haphazardly in a corner. Thinks he would only be reminded of the way people had only ever visited if they’d wanted something from him.

He never knocks, those nights. He instead demolishes frankly absurd amounts of land for resources he doesn’t yet have plans for. He doesn’t sleep at night. It’s fine.

He manages to believe that for two weeks before it all falls apart.

———

The nights have been getting colder, since they all got back. Maybe it’s the season changing, or maybe it’s whatever has started happening with the moon; either way, Scar is thankful that he’s wearing a jacket. The fact that he’s soaked through to the bone is a little less ideal.

It’s a well known side effect of glow squid hunting, though, so he can’t really blame it on anyone but himself. It certainly ensured that he wouldn’t be falling asleep on his feet anytime soon. Of which there was a very real danger, if the cotton stuffed into his head and the lead weighing down his eyelids is any indication. The glow ink splattered on his hands and sleeves is starting to look a little blurry, and he instead focuses on just making it back to the Swaggon without keeling over.

The universe has it out for him, though, so when the first phantom crashes talons-first into his back, all he can do is fall.

He hits the ground with a strangled yelp, his sack of hard-earned glow squid ink flying out of his hand and splattering across the grass. It’s pretty. And heartbreaking. He supposes he hadn’t really needed it for anything…

The phantoms screech angrily overhead, and his back throbs and he scrambles to roll over onto it anyway, because he can’t stand up just yet and he at least wants to be able to see what’s coming—

He lurches to the right as another phantom dives towards him, and the talons only connect with his upper arm as opposed to his chest. He’ll call that one a win.

“Oh geez— Ow, come on, you can’t kick a man when he’s down!” Scar scrambles backwards across the grass, voice high and eyes wide as he resorts to attempting to reason with things that don’t understand him.

There are three of them circling him, and he scrambles to his feet just in time to catch a set of razor-sharp teeth in his shoulder. He yells and swats at it blindly, somehow managing to hit its eyes and smear glow ink across its wildly flapping wing. The phantom detaches itself from him, and he doesn’t even have time to be relieved before another is diving towards him.

He runs.

His shoulder hurts and his arm hurts and his back hurts and he’s cold and wet and no one has touched him gently in months, and he runs.

He doesn’t mean to go to Grian’s house. He had wanted to go home. (Maybe it’s telling, that he’d ended up here instead.)

A phantom bites at his leg as he reaches the alleyway, fake stars shining above him and horrifying undead creatures punishing him for his insomnia close behind him. Pain ricochets up his calf and down his ankle and he frantically tries to shake it loose, crashing to the ground again and crying out when the impact aggravates his other wounds. He knows without looking that his health is getting low. Dangerously low. And he hates respawning, he doesn’t want to, and maybe it won’t even work, maybe he’s used up his last life and he’s going to die alone just like he lived alone, and all he’ll be is a ghost haunting a world that barely notices his absence.

(That’s maybe too dramatic, but he’s dying and he’s tired and every night he holds his own hand and pretends he’s not alone. He feels entitled to a breakdown.)

He curls up against the ground with his eyes shut tight, resigned to the fact that he’ll have to get up and pick up his scattered items in a few minutes, resigned to the body aches that will follow him around for the next few days, resigned to the jokes that will pop up in chat after his death message goes out.

All he can hear is his own heartbeat in his ears, phantoms screeching and injuries stinging in a way that feels distant. Any second now. Any moment.

A hand lands on his shoulder, distinctly and painfully human, and he gasps, eyes flying open as he scrambles into a sitting position. His leg throbs angrily and his arm sends shocks of pain throughout his entire body and Scar tries his best to stay quiet — no one can know he’s hurt, they’ll kill him, they’ll make him give up a life — but a high-pitched sound of pain escapes his throat anyway. The blurry shape of a person kneeling in front of him freezes.

“—an you hear me? Scar?” The voice sounds like it’s coming from underwater, but it’s familiar. It feels like safe and danger at the same time. It sounds worried. “You’re hurt, please—“

“‘m fine,” Scar manages to get out, strained and quiet and mostly on autopilot.

“Wha— Scar, you are not fine, you absolute…”

The voice trails off into grumbling and Scar blinks slowly, looking down at himself. He’s covered in glow ink and his own blood and torn clothes. The clothes don’t look like the right color. He’s pretty sure they’re supposed to be purple.

“Wrong…” Scar mumbles, poking at his clothes. It seems important.

“Maybe because you’re bleeding all over it, Scar, just—“ The figure huffs, just a blob of red and tan, and something is moving behind him. Scar squints. The person seems angry. His weak heart rate picks up.

“D’ you… want a life?” Scar asks, confused and hurt. He can’t think. “I won’t… not for free. Let’s… A deal?”

The blurry person makes some sort of noise that makes Scar think he said something wrong. It sounds like it was punched out of them. Something’s wrong, he said something wrong. Scar’s eyelids are starting to droop, but he forces them open with a whine. The person lurches forward a bit, like they’re trying to catch him, but he’s not falling. Is he?

“D… Don’t go,” Scar pleads, mind scrambling to put together a sales pitch on why they should stay. “I can… I have— if you…”

His vision goes darker around the edges, as his own voice starts to echo in his head. The figure is saying something again, sounding frantic, scared. He wonders why. He hadn’t meant to be scary. He doesn’t think he’s in a condition to even try to be.

The last thing he sees before the darkness takes hold is a hand reaching out.

———

The first thing he’s aware of, when he wakes up, is not pain. It’s the gentle touch of a hand on his arm, lifting it and wrapping something around it. It still stings, but less so; most likely he’d been given a health potion. He feels warm. Sleepy. He opens his eyes.

The last thing he remembers is phantoms chasing him into Grian’s alley, and then someone finding him. Now with a slightly clearer head, he can only assume it had been Grian himself.

Slowly, he turns his head against the pillow he’s resting on, and he blinks sluggishly at the person currently bandaging his arm. It is Grian, with lines of worry in his face and his wings folded right against his back in that way that meant he was scared. Scar’s brow furrowed.

“…G?” His voice is hoarse, quiet, but Grian’s head still snaps up as if he’d shouted. “What’s wrong?”

Grian’s wings fluff up a little, something like angry disbelief swirling in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Grian repeats, half-hysterical. He drops the roll of bandages onto the bed and gestures wildly at Scar’s body. “You keel over in my alley dying of blood loss and you’re asking me what’s wrong?”

“Well, you do seem to be taking it harder than I am,” Scar jokes half-heartedly, attempting to sit up. Grian immediately pushes him back down, and Scar is too shocked to protest.

“Nope, you don’t get to deflect,” Grian says, and somehow it’s as gentle as it is stern. “I know what phantoms mean, Scar, and — and you didn’t even know who I was when I found you. So— so get talking. I know you know how.”

Nerves flare in his stomach, and he breaks eye contact to stare at the wall, inspecting all the random knick knacks on the shelves. He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know how to explain what he’s been feeling since the games, especially since everyone else seems to have moved on already. It feels silly, suddenly, for his biggest problem to be that he’s lonely. That he doesn’t think anyone wants him around.

“Scar,” Grian says, and it’s softer now. “I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.”

There’s a lump in his throat and a burning in his eyes, and for just a moment Scar pretends that his heartbreak is anger. He sits up, ignoring Grian’s protesting, and he points an accusing finger at the avian.

“Now you want to stay?” Scar says, powering through even when his voice cracks. “Because last I checked, all— all you wanted to do was leave.”

“Scar, what—“

“No, you wanted me to talk! I’m talking!” Scar’s chest hurts, and his hands are cold, and something in him has been breaking for a very long time. “You— you couldn’t wait to tell me that any alliance from the last games were over. And then when I— When I thought I had Mumbo you came and took him away, too.” Scar cradles his shaking hands close to his stomach and looks away, anger slowly draining. “And then Joel— and then I had no one. And no one wanted to— I tried, Grian, but no one wanted to—“

He closes his eyes tightly, trying to stop the inevitable. “No one wanted to stay,” he finishes quietly. “I… I don’t know what I did. I don’t know why no one…”

Scar trails off, laughing a little and rubbing at his eyes, trying to stop the tears before they fall on Grian’s blanket. “I’m sorry. I don’t— I’m just tired.”

“Scar,” Grian says softly, and something about his voice is strange. “Please look at me.”

Scar looks. Grian has asked him, and he looks.

Grian is looking back at him — a small, sad smile on his face — and he’s crying. Scar blinks in surprise, staring, and Grian laughs quietly, reaching up to wipe at his eyes. Scar doesn’t know what’s happening anymore.

“Grian?” Scar says uncertainly.

“Scar,” Grian says, and he sounds both intensely fond and profoundly guilty. “There is nothing wrong with you.”

Scar’s heart skips a beat in his chest, and he swallows hard. Grian keeps going.

“And I’m so sorry,” Grian says, voice cracking. He reaches out a hand and grabs Scar’s, squeezing it tightly. Scar’s breath hitches, his fingers twitching. The touch feels foreign. It almost hurts. He never wants to let go. Grian tugs on his hand, gently, and Scar looks back up at him. Grian looks heartbroken, but focused. “I didn’t mean to leave you alone,” he says.

“Then why did you?” Scar blurts, unable to help it. He feels a little bit pathetic. He can’t care anymore. “Why did everyone—“

“I don’t know,” Grian says, sad and frustrated and desperate. “I know why I did, I— We didn’t end well the first time. Scar, I couldn’t— I couldn’t kill you again. I looked at you and all I could see was…”

(Bloody knuckles. Sandy clothes. Only one gets to win.)

“I know,” Scar says, quietly, both an apology and forgiveness. And then, softer, “I was alone.” His shoulders curl forwards a little. “Everyone had someone and I was…”

Grian puts his other hand on Scar’s uninjured shoulder, and Scar meets his gaze. The avian’s eyes are full of fire, intense determination mingling with stubborn care.

“Never again,” Grian says, like he’s stating a fact of the universe. Like he’s challenging some malevolent god. Then he softens. “You’re not alone, Scar. Not anymore. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Scar opens his mouth to say something eloquent and thankful and graceful. Instead, he bursts into tears.

Grian pulls him into a hug by the hand he’s still holding, wings coming up to surround them, and for the first time in a long time Scar feels warm. The ache in his chest is fading. His hands aren’t cold. Grian is breathing shakily next to his ear, and he’s being so very careful as to avoid Scar’s injuries, and he’s hugging him.

Scar tucks his face into Grian’s shoulder and cries.

———

In the morning, Pearl busts down the door with soup and a vendetta against apparently unwelcomed emotions.

(“I heard someone was sad. I’m here to beat it up.” She’s grinning, and Scar can’t help but laugh.)

Impulse arrives a few minutes later and drops Jellie into his lap, smiling softly.

(“I think this one missed you somehow more than we did!” Jellie curls up by his injured leg, and if Scar tears up, no one mentions it.)

Mumbo bursts in last, the salvaged remains of the glow squid ink he’d collected gathered into a little bottle.

(“I tried to get you the fresh stuff, but there wasn’t really a way for them to— to ethically sacrifice themselves. Sorry, mate.” Mumbo is covered in glowing ink, looking genuinely apologetic, and Scar laughs until his ribs hurt.)

And he is not alone.

#this is three times longer than the first part KAKSJDHJD I think I was possessed /j #I hid in a basement all day to write this #I’m sick and on vacation. this is all I have /hj #anyway I hope you like it!! I’m not too sure about the comfort and the ending but I hope it’s fine #anyway enjoy!! #j writes #jay’s journal #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #grian #desert duo #last life smp #last life

[wedontdeservethestars]

hii!!!! assuming ur still takin requests for that writing game, could u do cingulomania w/ ethan winters?

LOVED the heisenberg one btw I'm abt to reblog it and express my adoration for ur writing it is soo good <333

and so u don't have to go look through that whole big post, here's the definition for u :] "cingulomania: a strong desire to hold a person in your arms."

Hi there! First off I am SO sorry for how long this took for me to churn out, this ask got sent around the time I started tech week at my college for a show and then, of course, the show itself overtook my life. Oops lol....anyhow!! I decided to go a more hurt/comfort route with this so it got a little angsty, hope that's okay!! Still has a happy end (because God knows our poor guy Keithan Splinters deservers it..)

Also plot note: reader somewhat takes the place of Mia in the Resident Evil timeline (sorry babygirl), this drabble takes place post-RE8

CW for themes of identity crisis, self-hatred, and things like the such

((Send me a vocab word and a resident evil character and I’ll write a little drabble!!))

“Can you hold my hand? Please?”

Ethan’s tone surprised you. You yourself felt rather sunny. It was hard not to, what with the baby blue sky brushed with cottony clouds and a summer breeze that just tickled your skin enough to be pleasant on such a warm day. The scent of fresh sandwiches and fruit slices and homemade cheesecake (Ethan’s favorite) wafted by on the wind. What made the day even more perfect was that the two of you had somehow managed to secure this spot alone. Despite the field you settled your picnic in being near a public hiking trail, there wasn’t another soul in sight. Usually Ethan enjoyed this. People weren’t his thing, especially not as of late. He much preferred spending his time with just you and Rose, who was fast asleep in her baby basket beside the two of you, her little nose scrunching up when it caught pollen on the breeze.

The day itself was planned out as perfectly as you could hope. Along with lunch, you packed books and a deck of cards to play with later on and you wore a neat little outfit. Ethan was dressed similarly in a blue-dotted button-up and earthy slacks, but despite his trimmed appearance, you could tell how distressed he was. That, and the mere cadence of his request. He seemed so despondent. He had been, ever since returning from Europe to the states. You really couldn’t blame him, after what he’d endured just to get Rose back. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been through a lot, either, but Ethan had arguably suffered just as badly, if not more. 

Especially since he learned of his genetic reform. 

“Sure, bug,” you murmured, stretching your hand towards him. 

Ethan, with glazed eyes that couldn’t quite reach yours, grazed his skin against your fingers. You pulled him fully into your grasp. He didn’t feel cold, but he definitely didn’t feel as warm as you expected him to. He just felt stagnant. 

“You okay?” you poked, searching his face for any hint of what turmoil lied behind it. 

“Mm.” Ethan replied curtly. You sighed. By now, you were used to his non-responses, but it didn’t change the fact that you were still saddened that he wouldn’t talk to you.

“That doesn’t sound very okay,” you murmured, trying to be gentle but also, and quite frankly, fed up with him closing you off like you hadn’t been married for literal years. 

When Ethan remained silent, you felt your heart sink like stone and let go of his hand–that is, until he tightened his own grip. When you looked back at him, there was the unmistakable red glow of tears threatening at the corners of his eyes. Immediately, you felt bad for dismissing him before.

“Ethan?” you asked. 

“I’m afraid.” 

You brushed a stray tuft of blonde hair from his face. “Of what, darling?” 

This time, in addition to a trembling breath, you got a full sentence. “What if I’m not me anymore?”

A frown tugged at your lips. “Of course you’re you. What are you talking about?”

“I’m not human anymore.” Ethan’s voice was quiet. It was tinged with palpable tension.

“You’re human enough,” you assured him. “Maybe not anatomically. But you can still move and talk and think, can’t you? And love.”

“And hurt.” It sounded like something was stuck in his throat. “I-I don’t know what I am anymore.”

“You’re Ethan,” you said decisively. “Nothing else matters. You still feel like yourself, right?”

“I don’t know.” Ethan looked up at you suddenly, his piercing eyes wide and wild. “I don’t remember how I’m supposed to feel. Do you know how many times I’ve been cut and stabbed and shot and-and ripped apart, only to be-to be fucking stitched back together like some freakish monster? I haven’t felt like anything but a monster for years!”

A silence had overcome you. Even the gentle sound of the breeze felt like an intruder. You wet your lips and averted your gaze. Ethan had let go of your hand again at was staring at his wrist. The first place he’d been destroyed.

“I’m…sorry,” you finally settled on. What else were you supposed to say?

“You weren’t supposed to know that,” he said.

“Why not?” 

“Because you can’t fix it. Fix me.” You watched his fingers flex back and forth. You could still make out the numerous scars and scratches forever etched deep into the fungal layers of his skin, even if they had grown fainter with time. 

“You’re right.”

Ethan looked at you, startled at your agreement.

“I can’t,” you continued. “I don’t think anyone can fix you. I think that you have changed. But so have I. And so has Rose…all of us are different after the Baker house, and the village, and Evelyn, and…everything. Did I ever tell you about my nightmares?”

“Your…nightmares,” Ethan wracked. You laid your hand over his.

“I dream about the Bakers every night. Even after all this time, I still see them in my mind. That’s my scar.”

“You…” His mouth had gone dry. Feeling like you had guilted him a little harder than you meant to, you backtracked.

“My point is, we’re both different people. But what matters is that, in the most important ways, we’re still the same. I still love you, just like when we met. I hope you love me the same.”

“I do,” he said quickly. “More than anything.”

“So you’re still Ethan.” Your hands gravitated towards his strong jaw, and you smiled. For the first time in a long time, you saw a lightness enter his eyes. 

“Maybe…” It wasn’t a full confirmation. But it was something. 

“Besides,” you teased lightly, “I like all of your scars. Makes you look like an action hero.”

“Gee, thanks. I’ve always wanted to be one of those stunt guys.”

“There he is,” you giggled. “There’s that sarcastic guy I fell in love with.”

Ethan huffed, but the deep creases of his face had softened, and you aided their slack with a kiss to a pink cut across the bridge of his nose. 

“But seriously,” you murmured as you laid your lips along the other marks on his face, “I will kiss every single scar and scrape on your beautiful body if I have to.”

“And what would that prove, hm?”

“That I’ll never stop loving you. No matter what you look like, or what you are, or whatever’s going on with you. You are so, so perfect, Ethan Winters. And I love you more than anything on this godforsaken earth, even if it doesn’t seem to love you back.”

Ethan chuckled softly and squeezed your hands. 

“Thank you, honey.” He planted a kiss just on your forehead, and you smiled. “I love you, too.”

#poor poor ethan #boy deserves some kissies #i would very happily kiss his scars btw i love ethan #wedontdeservethefics #ethan winters #ethan winters x reader #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 #re7 #resident evil 7 #resident evil biohazard #re village #re biohazard #re ethan #re ethan winters #vocabulary event

[addictedtostorytelling]

Hello, Thank you for your response to my question on role reversals with GSR. I was curious on the gsr relationship itself, rather than the professional roles being switched. All this being equal, I was interested in how Sara would take it having Grissom being the pursuer. Would she still have reservations about sharing her history after seeing so much more of Grissom's "flaws " at work? Would her relationship perceptions change seeing the dynamic between him and other female colleagues?

hi again, anon!

thank you for the clarification!

so as talked about in the original answer, i find it really hard to imagine any kind of version of grissom who would be able to throw caution to the wind and pursue sara without hang-ups from the get-go.

i mean, maybe in a situation where he never became the night shift supervisor but sara still somehow ended up working for the lvpd anyhow—like if, say, holly gribbs hadn't died but instead had just quit so brass needed to hire a junior csi to replace her and asked grissom to help him fill the spot and ended up choosing sara based on his recommendation or something—he might be more inclined to just go for it, but, honestly, even then, baby boy still has self-esteem issues miles long and fathoms deep which have been with him throughout his entire life, so it's hard for me to picture him being 100% ready to jump into a relationship, having no reservations; i still think he'd doubt his own lovability enough that he’d be cautious, you know?

that all said, if we just ignored that this behavior would be ooc for him for the sake of the hypothetical, then, honestly, i think that had grissom actively pursued sara and sought to establish a committed romantic relationship with her starting right away when she moved to vegas, then in all likelihood they probably would have ended up getting together and just being happy pretty much immediately.

more discussion after the “keep reading,” if you’re interested.

__

so unless sara were also behaving in an ooc way, i think she’d likely be receptive to grissom pursuing her from the get-go.

while she is not herself without hang-ups, especially regarding talking about her past, she wanted the relationship from day #1, so if she’d gotten off the plane at mccarran and grissom was there waiting for her at the terminal with a bouquet of roses, she would’ve just gone with it.

been overjoyed, even.

she wouldn’t have played hard-to-get at all. 

though she may have in the back of her mind wondered how things would go re: either telling him about her trauma or not, she never would have doubted the him part of the equation, just her own side, as all of the things that grissom views as being his “deal-breaker flaws”—the parts of himself he's so afraid that she’ll reject once she sees them in the light—are things that either a) she doesn’t actually believe to be true of him or b) she knows are true of him but readily accepts (and even in some cases finds to be attractive).

grissom can’t understand how sara could actually want to be with him when in his view he is an unattractive, socially stunted, romantically inexperienced misanthrope with a dark side. he sees himself as an old man past his prime and constantly gets down on himself, knowing that even his closest friends think of him as some sort of emotionless robot.

meanwhile, in sara’s eyes, he is an absolute stud, totally attractive on every level. his social deficits don’t matter to her because, frankly, she shares many of the same deficits herself. likewise, his romantic inexperience is not in any way off-putting to her because she is similarly inexperienced and knows that they can figure things out together. though she’ll occasionally tease him about being a misanthrope, at the end of the day, she knows he is actually a consummate humanist with a deep capacity for love. she doesn’t care about his age, and she doesn’t see him as unemotional. she also doesn’t believe he has a “dark side,” full stop.

as i talk about here,

though grissom doubts his own goodness, sara doesn’t for a second. in fact, she believes in it more than anything. she loves how compassionate, humane, and just he is; how much he cares about the people in the cases they work and his deep capacity for empathy. she adores that he is a champion of persons who are vulnerable, that he speaks for the dead, that he honors and protects women and children, that he allies with the marginalized, etc. though of course she never likes for him to feel sad, she finds herself deeply touched whenever she sees his sorrow for someone he couldn’t save or an investigation that ended badly. while he often thinks the worst of himself, she knows he is the best—that he has this deep-seated and unfailing desire in him to help others and to right wrongs; that he is compelled by his nature to try to better the society he lives in and to show kindness to the individuals he encounters. that he can’t see in himself the virtues that seem so obvious to her honestly breaks her heart, which is why she never misses the opportunity to remind him that he is so much better than he gives himself credit for. just knowing that someone like him exists helps her have faith in the world. he’s such a good man, and the fact that he is is so important to her.

perhaps ironically, the only things grissom does that really ever actually threaten to run sara off for good are the things he does in the service of keeping her at arm’s length for the sake of “self-preservation.”

like.

he believes that if she finds out how (relatively) inexperienced he is with sex and relationships, that’ll be the thing to make her second-guess her desire to be with him, when in reality she’s perfectly willing to be patient with him while he learns, and in fact the thing that’s actually much more likely to discourage her in regards to him is his tendency to play hot-and-cold with her and at times be aloof (which is of course something he does so as to keep her from “getting too close” and realizing his vulnerabilities).

that so, if when she had moved to vegas in 2000, he had actually openly pursued her (just as she had expected that he would when she decided to make the move in the first place), i don’t think she would have ever been repulsed by him in the way he feared that she would.

i mean, not to say that everything would be 100% smooth sailing for them in a scenario where they got together in episode #2 of s1—because, frankly, they both undergo a lot of crucial character development and personal growth during those first five seasons before they get together in canon, so this incarnation of them as a couple would still be very raw and roughhewn and have a lot of underlying issues to ultimately work out—but certainly sara would never find grissom to be the monster he erroneously believes himself to be.

she is always so much more charmed by and attracted to and in love with him (unconditionally!) than he ever thinks is possible, so i think she’d just be thrilled if he came in and swept her off her feet right from the start.

of course, as for the issue of whether or not she’d be ready to share the truth about her past with him right away in this scenario, i still don’t think she would be immediately to begin with.

she’d still need to work up to that point—not necessarily because she doubted him but because she didn’t trust her own lovability.

even in canon, so much of the reason why it takes her so long to be open with him is because she fears that once he learns “what she came from,” he will start to look at her differently.

on a more surface level, she worries that he might pity her, but deep down what she’s really afraid of is rejection—she is scared to death that once he knows her story, he will realize there is something fundamentally wrong with her and be repulsed.

both grissom and sara see their love story as “beauty and the beast,” but they each think of themselves as the beast and the other person as the beauty.

in canon, grissom gradually proves to sara over a period of years that she can trust him and particularly that he isn’t going to abandon her or cast her out at the first sign of trouble, until eventually she is convinced that she is safe confiding in him.

in a situation where they started dating earlier because he had actively pursued her from the start, i think she’d eventually reach that same point, but it would still be something of a process; at first, she’d conceal her past from him as much as possible for fear of scaring him off, but in time there would come a kind of breaking point where she either had to tell him the truth or risk losing him. as their relationship became increasingly intimate (not just in the sexual sense but emotionally and in terms of them sharing their lives with each other), her dodges and obfuscations and flat-out refusals to broach certain subjects would place increasing strain on the relationship until she’d ultimately have to decide whether or not she was willing to lie to him for the sake of keeping her secrets—you can only avoid your boyfriend’s questions about how come you never talk about your parents for so long before finally you have to answer somehow—or else choose to confide in him once and for all. and whereas with all of her previous relationships, i think she had always chosen in those “moments of truth” to just shut things down and bounce, with grissom, i think she’d be motivated to actually open up and tell him what had happened.

she’d eventually tell him everything.

he’s her true love, after all.

this confession probably wouldn’t come about in the same way that it does in canon or on the same timescale. it might be more piecemeal—maybe she cops to the fact that her father was abusive first and only tells grissom about the murder later—with starts and stalls involved.

but to my mind, sara would ultimately always find grissom trustworthy in the end.

he’s always going to be that one person she is comfortable enough to confide her secrets in.

as for how she might react to his relationships with female colleagues, i honestly think there’d be less friction between her and grissom in this regard in this scenario than is the case in canon.    

as i talk about here,

while before they are together, grissom and sara both experience jealousy whenever the other person shows any kind of potential sexual and/or romantic interest in someone else (or even when someone else shows any kind of potential sexual and/or romantic interest in the other person), they do so largely because of how helpless they feel, given their very particular "i'm in love with this person, but i can't be with them" situation.

it's the type of deal where they're going, "i'm in love with him/her, but i can't lay any actual claim to him/her, so i just have to stand back and watch this flirtation happen, and i can't really say anything about it or intercede. maybe this interaction will go somewhere or maybe it won't, but either way, i'm uncomfortable because the outcome is completely out of my hands and annoyed because i can't take any similar action to express my interest in him/her myself."

so that's why we see grissom get upset about greg asking sara out to dinner, sara dating hank, etc. and sara bristling about grissom hanging out with jane gilbert—due to insecurity and a sense of being stuck.

they're anxious because they know that someone else could potentially "take away" their one true love from them, and they can't object in any kind of meaningful way.

but later on, they're no longer in that same kind of precarious position...

[once they’re in a committed relationship and sure of each other’s feelings, particularly after they’re married,] while they both might occasionally crack jokes about the subject—like grissom does when sara remarks on the physical appearance of a suspect in reboot episode 01x03 "under the skin"—it's never really a serious thing.

they know where they stand with each other.

they know they're committed.

they're both mature enough to realize that no one can steal your spouse if they don't want to be stolen.

in the early seasons of canon, we sometimes see sara get uptight at times when grissom interacts with the likes of jane gilbert or teri miller or heather kessler or sofia curtis, but so much of that insecurity on her part comes from her sense of helplessness when it comes to her prospects with grissom—i.e., from knowing that if he were to seriously pursue one of these other women, she could do nothing about it; she’d just have to stand back and watch as the love of her life settled down with someone else.

in a situation where her bond with grissom were already fully established and she knew he was devoted from her, i don’t think she’d feel that same kind of anxiety.

instead, much as we see in the later seasons of the show in canon (when she and grissom are married between s10-s13), she would actually probably be pretty chill about him having friendships with other women. she’d be much less likely to get her hackles up, just because she’d already know where she stood with grissom and would have developed that trust in his monogamy.

anyway, those are my thoughts.

ymmv!

thanks for the question! please feel welcome to send another any time.

#answered #anon #asks: csi #** #my meta #meta: csi #hypothetical scenario #let's talk shop #csiverse

[etricajoi]

Lucky 13

thirteen. Thirteen. THIRTEEN.

These years that keep on tickin by, truly give no fucks.

Ugh. Every year I fight with if I want to keep this thang goin (the blog. or whatever you wanna call this), and every year I say to myself “but this is the 13th year, (or whichever year we’re on)” sooo, why stop now. The reason I go back and forth with myself, is because it can be kind of painful opening this box, that I pretty much only “open” once a year. That old saying “time heals all wounds” bounces around in my head every now and again, it’s just something people have grown accustomed to say. Why do we do that?? It’s a bullshit phrase, and frankly IT AIN’T TRUE! Time makes it bearable, sure. But for me, if I allow myself to think about my last day with my dad and the fact that I had no clue that it was our last day together, all time does for me, is make it hurt more. It makes me realize that now it’s been THIRTEEN years, since I last had an actual conversation with him, since I last hugged him. In those earlier years, thinking about being with him and seeing him 2-3 years ago vs. now and it being over a decade later, was soo much easier because those memories were more fresh in my mind. Soo I say all that to say, fuck. It’s still hard, and I think it will always be hard to visit that part of my heart that I’ve locked away. Especially as we continue to get older, and we’re now raising our kids, and recognizing things that my parents did for me and my sibs, that I probably wouldn’t recognize if I weren’t a parent. I’m falling more and more in love with Matthew as I watch him be the most amazing father to our young men, so much to the point that it terrifies me. Yesterday, (as I was mentally trying to prepare myself to write this lovely excerpt) I was laying in Matt’s arms thinking about how damn much I love him and then realized, that it absolutely terrifies me to allow myself to fully love because I feel like the moment I do…I can’t even write my deepest fears because I refuse to let it exist in writing. But I just don’t want anything shitty to happen. Don’t worry, booking my next appt with my therapist in a few minutes 🙃 I realize that living that way isn’t conducive for anyone including ya girl 🙋🏾‍♀️ So I’ve decided to allow myself to fully love for the first time in 13 years. That’s not to say that I haven’t been head over hills in love with my man, my boo thang, my soul mate! However, there’s a difference between 90% and 100% know what I’m sayin? Damn, this is a long one. Sorry! Other than still figuring this shit out as the time races on by, I’ve made a shift in my career and I still can’t believe it. I quit my well paying fully remote job and took real estate classes and now I’m waiting to take my real estate exam! I pray it was the right move, but if not I’ll do what my dad was a pro at and make a way out of no way. Mom is still workin her ass off and spoiling her GamGam boys, I’m soo proud of the things she’s doing! I ain’t gonna put all her stuff on blast, but I see you MA! You’re AMAZING! Keep doing what you’re doing, because watching you is motivational! Brother is still adventurous getting the dopest most random jobs because he’s just like dad haha, he works for the Clippers (Yhup the basketball team) they’re currently just starting the off season, which is great because he decided to give his arm a little compound fracture 🤦🏾‍♀️ just like dad. Gordy is one year down at CPP and just got an electric bike, keeping true to the hippieish/vegetarian vibes. All of our young men are growing (way too fast) we’re gearing up for the twins 3rd bday and baby boy Nova is just trying to keep up with his big bros. Gosh damn it! I really wish dad were here for this phase of our lives. Until next year…

Lucky 13

[devilisln-moved]

Looooooong, rambling post about Daredevil in She-Hulk’s Ribbit and Rip It under the cut.

Okay while it’s still fresh (though honestly I’m going to watch it again to really absorb into my pooooooores), I really enjoyed the episode and how they used Matt overall. It was nice to see him with a lighter vibe. Like, I doubt it’ll carry on to his series (judging from the hard as fuck promotional poster I saw), but it was still nice to see him smiling, flirting, and generally not being at 300% intensity all the time. I liked Charlie’s accent a lot. There was a rougher edge to it that I found really attractive for Matt. Not sure if it’s a matter of him being a bit out of practice or if he tweaked it a little. idek, it was just a little detail that I noticed.

I’m a little mixed on the action scenes like, look we were all spoiled by the hallway/stairwell/whole gd prison block fights. Like, on one hand they made me realize that we probably won’t ever see that level of brilliant and brutal fight choreography any time soon. Not while Marvel Studios is being such a taskmaster and Disney keeps being cheap, any way. I’m not sure how much of the Daredevil end of the fight was practical and how much was cgi, so I’m not going to criticize on that. Frankly, I generally watch streaming on smaller screens, so i think I miss a lot of those details. It’s like, I know a lot of people say She-Hulk looks like shit because it is so cgi heavy, and I agree, I would have preferred practical effects but corporations like paper more than quality these days so yeah, ofc Disney is going to favour cgi over practical. Capitalists doing a capitalism if you will.

My point is, I’m not going to complain here too much about it because honestly? I’m not even going to pretend that it ruins my enjoyment of the show. Truly absurd. Anyway, this is my incredibly long winded way of saying no, it didn’t blow my hair back the way the Netflix series’ fight scenes did, but frankly, I didn’t hate it. It was nice to see him more moving with more acrobatically, not to mention having his weapon which idek, made me feel a certain way. It’s like I said in the spoiler free post: I like seeing them own his comic legacy instead of just gesturing to it. Again, I love the Neflix series. It’s how I fell in love with the character, but, regardless of how I might feel about the current state of genre saturation (like I don’t want them to stop, I just want them to slow the fuck down, Disney literally owns literally dozens of other franchises. I don’t know why they’re putting all their chips in on Marvel and Star Wars while treating their audience like we’re babies with no object permanence), I have never understood the desperation to separate superhero stories from its often camp and iconic aesthetics. I mean, intellectually i get it. They want to try to catch normies as well as comic book fans and I guess...bright colours and ostentatious character and costume design are so foreign as to frighten off the average movie goer (heavy sarcasm).

(A small, unrelated rant: And it’s so fucking stupid, like sure, someone that doesn’t like comic books or even just someone that doesn’t like action movies is prolly going to be put off by more faithful designs of X-men members, but I promise you putting everyone in leather catsuits wouldn’t have changed their minds. I know most the people making these blockbusters can’t possible imagine they’re going to get the art house crowd by toning down the camp, so it really baffles me why they do it other than perhaps they’re sometimes, somewhat ashamed of the subject matter.)

Uhhh....this has gotten long and rambly. So I’m going to wrap it up. A+ that they finally got Matt laid. Look, idek, it was kind of a joke between me and some friends back when the Netflix Marvel series were a big deal. We thought it was both hilarious and kind of weird that literally everyone was getting a love scene but Matt. While I’m not all on in on his reputation as being promiscuous. Frankly he’s too busy to be that dedicated to strange. Seriously though, if there’s one thing I’ve really enjoyed about She-Hulk is that Jen fucks, and sure it’s not explicit, but it’s sincere and not stigmatized. While I know a lot of people are going to poo-poo that like oh, Iggy you’re just a bit of a perv, though. Maybe so, but my point is that I’m not the only one to notice how odd it is that we have all these pretty people in the MCU and diamond cut bodies that are only used for violence. I guess it’s nice to see writers think about these characters on a more base level. Also you know, the appreciation of how fucking sexy Matt Murdock is (not just talking about Charlie either) was nice. The subversion of the woman’s walk of shame was very clever, too (you know, he was carrying his boots and walking barefoot, presumably back to his hotel room, the way a female character is usually portrayed the morning after carrying her heels). Just a side note, I hate the term “walk of shame” but I don’t feel like being annoying and being like “UMMMM I THINK IT SHOULD BE CALLED A WALK OF TRIUMPH”. It’s whatever. I just don’t like negative language being used surrounding sexuality.

tl:dr: The Matt episode was everything I ever wanted and more 💗

#she-hulk spoilers #she-hulk spoilers tw #she-hulk spoilers cw #this was written last week but scheduled for the sake of those who hadn't watched it yet

[boldlyvoid]

Wheels Up

Characters: Spencer Reid, Reader (Y/N), Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Savannah Hayes, Emily Prentiss, Elle Greenaway, Tara Lewis, Jennifer Jareau, Matt Simmons, Luke Alvez

Summary: JJ goes on maternity leave, Spencer falls in love with her replacement that he's supposed to be mentoring, Emily Prentiss and Elle Greenaway work a case together that brings Simmons and Alvez in for help...

Warnings: Genius!Reader, mutual pining, idiots in love, drinking, star gazing, lots of fluff, mentions of past assault, grooming, drug addiction, spencer's trauma, Abductions, Rape, Murder (typical canon violence)

word count: 9.4K

a/n: this is for @starry-eyed-spence and @simmonsmilf CM fanfiction week, Day One: Favorite Character... only I couldn't pick just one.

To say Spencer fell in love at the least opportune time was a bit of an understatement. Everyone he’s ever come close to admitting his love to has either left him or died. Now he’s stuck with loving someone in secret, keeping it to himself and hoping that one day she’ll love him back.

He fell in love with a co-worker once again… which wasn’t the worst thing, office romances happen and it’s quite frankly all Rossi’s fault that they even had to worry about fraternization policies. The part that makes liking Y/N so difficult is that he’s supposed to be her mentor, he’s 5 years older than her, and if he was to ever make a move she would feel inclined to reciprocate in order to keep her job because that’s the unfortunate truth behind office relationships with significant differences in positions.

And worst of all… she doesn’t like him that way at all. She’s called him the brother she always needed, a best friend, the best mentor ever. She wasn’t interested in him in the slightest.

“And why would she be?” He’s said this to everyone who knew about his crush on her. “I’m old and boring and she’s so cool?”

But he didn’t get it. He didn’t understand that every time she asked him to hang back to help her file something, or when they would buddy up in hotel rooms to discuss cases all night and end up down some star trek rabbit hole instead, every time he talked to her she was falling in love with him right back.

It once again all circles back to Rossi, if it wasn’t for him, Spencer wouldn’t even know her. She wouldn’t have ever been introduced to the unit, he wouldn’t be attached to her at the hip and he probably wouldn’t be as happy as he is with her in his life. Even if she wasn’t his girlfriend.

He’ll never forget the day Rossi asked him to meet her, to help her settle in…

“Spencer, can I talk to you for a minute?” Rossi called him into his office.

He sighed, putting his book down and walking up the stairs to his office. He closed the door behind himself and smiled awkwardly, “what’s up?”

“Sit,” he gestures to the chairs in front of his desk, where Spencer pulls one out and proceeds to sit down, anxiously. “As you know, both Kate and JJ will be out of the field in the next few months to have their babies and we need to bring someone in to fill the void until they return, so I reached out to the academy to see if they have any up and coming Dr. Reid like agents that they could loan us.”

“Why?” Spencer laughs at the choice of words.

“Well, honestly, why get new 2 agents when we could have two Reid’s? JJ will be back after a month or 2, it’s better to have more brains than brawn.”

“So they found someone and you want me to be their chaperone?” Spencer clues in. “Who are they?”

“Y/N Y/L/N, she’s a wonderful agent, but she’s pretty quiet, I don’t know much about her personally.” Rossi prefaces. “She’s a genius, high IQ like yours and just a plethora of knowledge inside that mind of hers. You’ll like her.”

“Alright,” he nods. “When do they start?”

“When JJ’s water breaks, but I’d like you to meet them and maybe even have them shadow you for a day?” Rossi asks, “I’ve actually arranged for you both to get dinner at a friend's restaurant?”

“Is this an arranged date or purely business? Don’t send me in there blind,” he worries. “I need at least a week's prep before I go on a date again.”

“It’s not a date, kid,” Rossi laughs. “She's just a lot like you were when I met you, and I know from watching you all these years that it’s not easy to do it alone, so can you just walk them through it?”

“Of course.”

That first dinner Rossi set up for them was more exquisite than either of them prepared for.

They spent the whole night discussing dissertations and their independent journeys through becoming a genius. He understood perfectly why Rossi and the Academy would think she was a lot like him, she was a genius, but she was awkward. It took a while for her to break out of her shell and open up, but by the end of the night, he already knew they were going to be friends.

“So,” she smirks, “would you mind telling me honestly how hard this job is?”

“Why?”

She sighs, “I’ve heard a lot about Thee Doctor Reid and how you were the youngest hired to the BAU and all the shit you’ve been through.”

“What are the rumours these days?” He awkwardly smiles back, rolling his eyes slightly.

“That you were brain dead in a cemetery from an overdose and yet you’re so smart you came back from the dead to kill the unsub and escape…” she looks more and more disappointed in the rumour as she tells it.

His tongue hits the roof of his mouth as he opens it to speak, making a tsk noise as he shakes his head. “Well, I did OD but it was the unsubs main personality that resuscitated me.”

“Holy shit,” she whispers.

He nods, “what about you? I’m sure you have a reputation based on a rumour?”

She presses her lips together the way he always did, just as awkward. She sighs, huffing the air out of her nose and looking fed up. “I was groomed and assaulted by an older boy who then told kids I had a stalkerish crush on him so if I was to ever tell anyone what happened, then no one would believe me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Spencer knows the words don’t make up for what happened. “I’m guessing that’s why you wanted to get into profiling?”

She nods, “I got away with some PTSD and trust issues, most girls go through much worse… they deserve someone who gets it to look into their cases.”

Spencer nods. “That’s how I felt after my kidnapping too. It took a while for me to look at crime scene photos and not think about how they felt, and wonder why I lived when so many die?”

“I’ve never been a religious person,” she prefaces. “But I do believe we are here for a reason. Whether you choseto be here after your last life or this is some learning opportunity, or God is actually real? And you’re supposed to do good.”

“In narcotics anonymous, they reference god a lot, it’s helpful for the addicts, but I never get into it,” he opens up with her more than he’s ever opened up with any friend. “If my Devine purpose is to suffer in order to relate to those I’m supposed to help that’s a load of bullshit… honestly, I can get pretty angry thinking about why I’ve gone through what I’ve gone through doing this job, but it’s not as bad as what happened to me growing up, and it leads me to believe that I probably wouldn’t have had an easy time no matter how I live.”

She nods, “I know, I get that.”

“Sorry,” he snaps out of it. “I didn’t mean to trauma dump on you.”

“It’s exactly what I asked for actually,” she reminds him with a soft smile. “If you can still come to work every day, after all that, you must be incredibly strong— and if I’m anything like you the way people say I am, I guess I can do it too.”

He had no idea she would end up being his best friend.

She shadowed him just once in the office, picked up everything right off the bat and immediately made a name for herself in the unit. Derek tried multiple names on her before one stuck, and they knew it stuck when even Hotch called her Baby Genius.

She brought a different knowledge base to the team, similar to Spencers but visibly younger. She fit in with the crowds of kids they had to interview, she understood why kids reacted the way they did to trauma and abuse, and she was still a kid at heart. It was the reason Spencer fell for her.

She allowed him to feel free again. They went out together outside of work, going to events he always wanted to go to with a partner but never had a chance. She loved all the same things as him, and she takes him to places he’d never imagine enjoying before her.

Like laser tag… that was an afternoon he’ll never forget with her.

When JJ went into labour, that’s when Y/N started full time and Hotch hired Tara Lewis in the same week. The team barely had time to adjust to being undermanned before they were restocked.

Joining Spencer every morning for every case, she waited out front of her apartment for him to pick her up most mornings, sticking to his side throughout the long days and nights until he drove her home again. Even at work, they were partnered up for everything: heading to the M.E. together, bouncing facts back and forth at the precinct, playing good cop bad cop with perverts, and her personal favourite… Making the geoprofile.

And Spencer liked doing that part with her as well. Because it typically meant they were completely alone in a room, spreading out a map and leaning in close to each other as they placed every sticker and marker. Brushing hands, bumping shoulders, longing glances as they made connections… he also just liked to watch her hands move.

She was delicate and careful and precise… and he was falling in love with everything about her as the days went by.

Everyone on the team had noticed. It was really hard not to when they’ve all known Spencer for almost 11 years now. He was so different with her in his life, he was happy and giddy and dressing even better than before. His hair was perfect and he was glued to Y/N’s side. Or she was glued to his.

Even though they were mentally similar, physically they were polar opposites. Y/N wore all black and was a lot more outgoing than they expected. Rossi thought she’d be quiet… But she was constantly talking. To Spencer, to other officers, to witnesses, she never stopped talking and starting conversations, and thank god she did because she’s cracked 4 cases that way.

The biggest surprise the team learned about her happened on a case in Florida, a shooting in a local park in broad daylight with lots of witnesses meant the whole team was on the boardwalk asking questions. She went out to do her thing, talking to the local skaters, asking them if they knew anything but they didn’t want to cooperate.

They were too cool for the feds.

“Can I see your board?” She asks, “if I do some tricks will you answer some questions for me and Doctor Reid?”

“Knock yourself out,” one of the boys laughs as he hands her his board.

She hands Spencer her gun and shoots him a wink before taking off to do a few tricks. The whole team watches in awe then as Y/N showed off. Cruising along the halfpipe effortlessly like she was a professional.

“Okay Tony Hawk,” Morgan teases her, “where did that come from?”

“Skateboarding is easy, it’s just physics,” she shrugs. “I can figure skate too…”

“What do you want to know?” The boy takes his board back. “We always see some sketchy guys around here.”

Morgan pats Y/N on the back with a smile, applauding her ability to get anyone to open up before leaving her to take the statement.

“Agent?” One of the girls pulls her aside just before they are about to leave, “how did you do that kickflip? I’ve been trying to learn and the boys won't help me.”

“Sure thing,” she takes the girl's board and demonstrates a kickflip first.

“So, you see as I start the kickflip I bend my knees?” She shows her another kickflip all while explaining it. “Much like the with an ollie, I’m building pressure so I can apply it to the tail, making the board pop. The one thing that makes this trick different from the ollie is that instead of sliding my foot up, I just flick my toe out to the right of the board, by doing this, the board flips in a 360-degree motion.

She demonstrates again and it’s another flawless kickflip, and a huge smile on her face as Spencer watches her.

“How fast the board spins depends on how much force I put into it when I flick it out. As soon as the board flips in a full 360, your feet should connect and drive the board back to the ground.”

She hands the board back to the girl, “your turn.”

She takes a deep breath and shakes her nerves out before taking off on her board, looping around and carefully bending her knees, she follows every step and it’s a flawless kickflip.

“Flawless!!” Y/N claps. “Those boys better watch out, you’re a natural.”

“Thank you,” she wraps her arms around Y/N and gives her a hug, “it’s taken me so long to be able to do that, you’re so cool.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiles. “Good luck out there.”

She waves as she takes off on her board, leaving Y/N with a smile as she turns to Spencer. “I miss being that age and thinking everything is so cool.”

“You are really cool,” he agrees. Smiling softly as a blush fills his cheeks. “You’re always surprising me. Is there anything you can’t do?”

She laughs, “yeah the one thing I want to do the most.”

“Which is?”

She sighs, “maybe I’ll tell you someday.”

—

He’s sitting beside Penelope and Savannah, watching Derek and Y/N get drinks for what’s left of the group as the night drags on.

“When are you going to tell her?” Savannah asks.

“What?” Spencer pretends he doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

“You have a crush on the new girl…” she pokes his cheek as he blushes and gives it away. “Tell her, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“She could feel forced to say yes because I’m a supervisory special agent and she isn’t and she wants to keep her job so she feels like she needs to,” Spencer worries. “I want her to like me back because she fell for me and I want her to initiate it because then I’ll know it’s not just a power dynamic issue.”

“Have you tried asking her, genius?” Penelope teases. “Because if you asked her then you’d know she has a crush on you and she’s afraid you’ll turn her down because you’re an SSA and she isn’t.”

“When did you hear that?”

Penelope pretends to lock up her lips and throw away the key, making Savannah laugh loud enough to get Derek's attention at the bar. When he and Y/N return, that’s when the questions start.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Spencer gets up and leaves the booth, walking out towards the smokers' exit at the back of the bar, getting a moment of semi-fresh air to think about what Penelope said.

“Spence?” She calls to him from the door, “are you okay? Can I come out here?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Sorry, I needed some air, it’s nothing.”

“Do you need a hug? I read it helps the most when people are stressed out,” she plays it off with a shrug.

“So you do have a crush on me?”

“She told you?” Her face lights with fury, “what the fuck, Penelope?”

“She didn’t mean to,” he tries to cover it up. “It was only brought up because I have feelings for you as well.”

Her eyes widen, her brows raise and her mouth slowly opens as she freezes.

“Y/N?”

She blinks a few times and shakes her head, “impossible. There’s no way.”

He laughs, “I’ll take that hug now?”

She lunges for him and wraps her arms around him so tight. Breathing him in, her hands wander his back as she takes in every second if it and he does the same. He can’t believe she’s that close to him, her hair smells nice and she’s so soft in his arms.

It’s quiet outside, they can hear the music behind the door, the people in the ally talking and the crickets in the night. It’s just them outside, holding each other in the smoking section with smiles on their faces, amazed that it’s finally happening.

“Can we keep this between us?” She whispers into his ear. “Just for a bit? I don’t want to go through all the paperwork and have to separate in the field if it doesn’t work out?”

“Wait,” Spencer pulls back. “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”

She nods, “well yeah isn’t that what happens when two people have a mutual crush? They date?”

“Okay,” he smiles, staring at her lips and then flicking his gaze back to hers with a blush. “I have more than a crush on you, I really, really like you.”

“Prove it,” she teases, “let's go on a real date soon?”

“You know what, let’s get out of here. I have something I want to show you,” he takes her hand and waits for her to nod.

“Take my lead okay? You don’t feel good and you’re going to wait outside while I say goodbye,” she has a plan right away

“After you,” he holds the door open for her and lets her inside first.

—

“I’m taking Spencer home, he’s not doing well,” she’s a much better actress than Spencer expected, patting his back and watching him leave the bar before her like she asked him to do. “He’s really anxious?”

Penelope looks worried, “oh no, I fucked up. I told him you like him.”

She just shrugs, “if he didn’t know that already then I guess he’s not as smart as he pretends to be.”

“See,” Derek looks at Savannah. “I told you everyone else also thinks he’s faking being that smart.”

“Shut up,” she shoves him and turns her attention back to Y/N. “Go make him feel better, he’ll like your company.”

“I’ll see you guys at work on Monday,” she waves them goodbye, surprised they bought it as she rushes her way back outside to Spencer.

He’s already in his car, engine running and waiting for her with a smile. “Come on,” he hurries her inside and is taking off down the road before she even has her seatbelt on yet.

“What’s the rush, Spence? It’s only 1 in the morning I’m sure tones of places are open still?” She teases.

“You’re going to like this, I used to go here all the time when I started with the bureau,” he explains, leaving the main road to take a back root, and eventually they’re driving on gravel.

“If you’re taking me here to murder me this is a dumb way to do it because they all know I left with you,” she teases. “At least when you go to get rid of me, do yourself a favour and dig 6 one-foot holes instead of one 6 foot hole…”

He laughs, “would you really give your murderer tips?”

She nods, “my goal would be to piss him off so much he either lets me go or murders me quickly. I don’t want to go through all the pain.”

“It’s not fun, that’s for sure,” he shrugs it off but she knows it hits too hard.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, reaching her hand out for his to hold by the gear shift. “I think you’re like the strongest guy in the world, you know that, right?”

“Why?” He asks as if that's a preposterous thing to say.

“I think if I got kidnapped and tortured at 24 I wouldn’t still be working in the FBI,” she admits. “I barely made it through the academy, I know this job is intense but I don’t think I could handle being in that situation.”

“If it’s up to me,” Spencer squeezes her hand tighter and brings it to his lips for a kiss. “You’ll never experience anything like that.”

He’s so good at making her feel safe that she almost believes he has the power to do that. He would do anything and everything to move fate for her safety.

He turns down another back road then, around the edge of a lake and towards a clearing. He follows old tire tracks and parks by the dock. “I found this spot one night on a random drive to clear my head.”

“I thought you hated driving?” She quizzes him.

He shrugs, “I like to drive at night when no one else is on the road because then I don’t really have to worry about anyone else. I hate driving because I can’t always anticipate other drivers' movements. If I could read minds, then I’d drive more.”

“Valid,” she nods, “now why is this such a special spot that you needed to show me right away?”

“Well, I have a telescope and it’s been in my trunk for the last 13 years so that every time I come here, I can look up at the moon…”

“You brought me here to look at the moon with you?” She swoons, “that’s so cute.”

“You think?” He looks like his heart is doing the same swelling as hers.

She gets out of the car before she can lean over and kiss him the way she wants to. In his trunk, he does have a telescope, and a blanket, which they set out on the dock and sit upon.

The sound of the lake, the loons in the distance, frogs and crickets and music travelling from somewhere down the lake. The moon was big, the stars were amazing, and this was the closest she has ever seen them. It's amazing, and of course, it was Spencer showing her everything.

He was everything to her.

And it didn’t take long for him to become everything to her either.

Joining the BAU was a dream to many at the academy, but Y/N never thought that she would get the job, overjoyed that she did. They were a family unit; they got the job done, they protected each other, and it was a wonderful environment to be a part of. She obviously liked Spencer the most out of everyone. He took her in, he made her feel comfortable and safe and she opened up more with him than she has with anyone she’s labelled a “best friend” in the past.

She liked everything about him. The way he talked with his hands, how his sweater, vest, shirt and tie always match, his gun looks a little out of place on his belt, like it’s too big for him, but it’s cute. His hair’s been getting longer too, sometimes he wears glasses and sometimes if she’s lucky, he doesn’t shave every day.

She can’t take her eyes off him when he’s busy and won't notice, just to then move her focus away when he stared at her. She only wishes she could see the way he stares at her in awe, because if it’s anything like how she looks at him, he must love her.

She keeps her hand in his, trading the telescope back and forth in turns, her face was close to his every time they switched and she kept getting bolder with each exchange. Letting Spencer look, she kept her face close to his, kissing his cheek softly as soon as he was busy peering up at the moon.

He turned to her with a gasp, “what was that for?”

“You’re cute,” she shrugs. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while.”

“How long?” He teases, leaning in closer and kissing her nose to make her laugh.

“Since you dropped me off at my house after that first dinner…”

“So this is me,” she nods out the window, “thank you for the ride, I appreciate not having to be in an Uber all by myself.”

“Anytime you need a ride, you can give me a call?” He asks. “Seeing as we’ll be going to the same place anyway.”

She nods with a smile, “I’d love that, do you live close to here?”

“Just up the street,” he nods. “So we could carpool?”

“I can drive some days if you want?” She asks, “I know you mostly take the subway, and I know that because I’ve seen you reading on there before.”

He can’t help but smile, “so you never thought to say hello?”

“No,” she shakes her head, “you looked peaceful, and I’m sure you don’t get many moments like that in your line of work.”

He sighed, knowing she was right. “If it ever gets to be too much for you, please never feel like you have to pretend to be okay? None of us expect you to be stone cold, none of us are either. The job gets to us, just tell me if it gets to be too much?”

She looks from his lips back to his eyes and over again, “thanks, Spencer.”

He does the same to her, “anytime. Should I walk you to your door?”

She shakes her head, “that’s okay you’ve done enough for me tonight.”

“Fair enough,” he laughs. “Have a good night Y/N.”

“You too, Spencer,” she smiles before she exits his car, smiling at him from her porch before he drives away.

“So it’s been mutual this whole time?” He shakes his head at the absurdity. “I’ve been so lonely for so long and then I found you and you make me feel like I don’t need to be alone anymore.”

“You complete me too,” she makes one more comment before connecting their lips.

It’s like the world stops then. It’s silent and serene and everything she thought kissing Spencer Reid would be.

She pulls back with a smirk, “oh no.”

“What?” He worries.

“I’m going to want to kiss you all the time now…”

“Good,” he mumbles the words against her lips before reconnecting them.

—

At work on Monday, it’s very hard for them to look at each other without remembering that they’ve kissed. Spencer’s practically glowing with admiration for her that he gives it all away. He’s overly happy, offering to do things for others, standing way too close to her and bringing her coffee all morning.

“Okay, pretty boy,” Derek takes him by the scruff of the neck and redirects him into his office. “What’s going on with you today, I know you’re not this happy for JJ’s return?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you get laid or something?”

Spencer laughs, “no, you know I don’t get laid. You actually remind me of that fact quite often.”

“You’re so happy I’m worried you’ve moved to crack,” he says it. “Okay, you were acting weird on Friday, you missed brunch on Sunday and now you’re waaay too happy.”

“I’m not on drugs again,” Spencer assures him. “I’m just letting myself enjoy my time with Y/N, if she falls in love with me in the meantime that would also be nice.”

“Oh, so you’re doing this to get laid,” Derek teases him again. “That’s good, I’m sorry if I triggered you by asking, but I had to make sure you’re okay.”

“No, no,” he places his hands on Derek's shoulders, “thank you for caring.”

“Always—“

“Guys!” They hear Hotch yelling from the bullpen, cutting the tender moment short, saving Spencer from spilling the truth.

Rushing back, he sits beside Y/N at the briefing room table. “We have a bad one,” Emily Prentiss of all people walks in the door, followed by Elle Greenaway.

“We’ll have time to mingle in a minute, right now there is a woman who needs our help,” he announces.

Spencer quickly reads over the case files, recognizing Elles handwritten notes, she was a private investigator now. “With Penelope’s help, I’ve been able to set up alerts in College chatrooms in the area so that I can help to missing and assaulted women right away.”

“She’s alerted when someone reports a missing woman and she has advertisements for people to reach out to her for help,” Penelope explained.

“I’ve been working on these cases for the last 9 years,” Elle announces. “This morning Aasia Desai called me saying her sister Bahni never showed up for lunch and it’s not like her, we know she went clubbing last night and so far Penelope’s tracked her down an ally and then she’s gone.”

“Her parents are British diplomats so Interpol has asked me to join, luckily I was just in Ontario so it was a short trip over,” Emily adds. “JJ will be here in half an hour for her first day back, and we will celebrate when we can, but I see we have some new faces here?”

“Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N,” she waves, still glued to Spencer’s side. “I’ve heard a lot about you both from Doctor Reid.”

“Doctor Tara Lewis,” she stands and shakes Emily’s hand, and then Elles.

“So it says here that the first missing case was in 2006 just after you left the BAU?” Spencer changes the subject before anyone can pry into why he would be telling her about the women who worked there before her.

“I did,” Elle nods. “I was too late for her, by the time her parents realized she was missing and called me in the case was cold. I started this as a way to get ahead of it.”

“How long has she been missing?” Tara asks.

“She was last seen at 1:07 this morning,” Elle confirms. “We have 25 hours, maybe, to beat the odds.”

“Reid,” Hotch cuts in, “I would like you and Elle to go check out the street she was last seen on, find any private cameras or anyone who might have seen something.”

He turns to Y/N who just shrugs in silence; “it’s fine.”

“Tara and Derek, I’d like you to interview Aasia when she and JJ get here, Garcia can you do a deep dive into Bahni’s spending and academic records?”

“Sure thing,” she starts clicking away on her computer immediately.

“And Y/N,” Elle looks at her. “I need you to go over the footage of the man who followed her to the alley and get familiar with his face. We’re using you as the face of the investigation to hopefully draw the unsub out.”

“How would she be able to do that alone?” Spencer gets defensive, a way he used to with JJ when she was the media liaison.

“If she goes on the news and makes Bahni seem like a person while describing the unsub as someone who can help solve the case, it will draw him out,” Emily explains for Hotch, who is glaring at Spencer for second-guessing the plan already.

“And she’s college-age,” Elle adds. “If that’s who he’s been going after all this time he will want to come in and talk IF he can talk to her.”

She places her hand on his leg under the table, “it’s a good plan.”

“It is,” Hotch agrees.

“What do you not have a saying to replace wheels up when they stay in town?” Elle teases him.

“Wheels away?” Emily joins her, “that works?”

“just get to work,” Hotch tries not to smirk at them.

Spencer stands up to leave with Elle, “can I just talk to Spencer before he leaves?” She carefully asks Hotch.

“Make it quick,” he agrees reluctantly and lets her follow him down to his desk.

Spencer rests his hands on the back of his desk chair, holding it tightly in an attempt to calm himself down.

“I’m going to be fine,” she assures him. “I don’t think the guy on the tape took her, we’d see him leave if he did.”

“Unless he lives in the alley,” Spencer combats. “Can you ask Penelope to do a background check on all the cars coming in and out of the campus and that street between midnight at 2 am?”

She nods, placing her hand on his gently. “Good luck out there, okay?”

He nods, “it’s been 2 days they’re going to know by the end of the week.”

She laughs, “so be it.”

He says fuck it right then and there, wrapping her up in a hug and kissing the top of her head as the team watches in the briefing room. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yes you will,” she smacks his side as he lets her go. “If you’re going to make a scene at least give me a real kiss.”

“Hmm,” he teases. “No cause then I’d have to sign some paperwork and I’ve got to go…” he starts to back away.

“Coward,” she teases.

He just shrugs, meeting Elle by the door and heading towards the elevators in silence.

She doesn’t ask, not even when they get to the garage or inside the SUV. They’re driving down the road for maybe 2 minutes when Elle finally brings it up. “So—”

“What do you want to know?”

“It's that easy now? What happened to you?” She teases. “You’re so different from the baby Spence I left.”

“Well you missed my drug problem, my dad being a possible child molester, getting shot in the knee, getting shot in the neck, my girlfriend dying, and now my mom might have Alzheimer's so you know… I had to grow up a bit,” he lays it all out for her to ask any question she wants.

“Why don’t you ever call me? I would have been there for you through anything,” she reminds him.

“I know that,” he reaches over for her hand, “thank you. But I was a big fan of suffering in silence… and now I have Y/N and she makes me feel normal?”

“That’s good, you deserve some fraction of normal in your life and she’s really cute,” Elle smiles back at him before returning her focus to the road. “How old is she?”

“27,” he smiles. “She’s the best.”

“You love her,” Elle notices it.

He presses his lips together to fend off a smile as he nods, “I think I do.”

“Tell her, you deserve to hear that someone loves you back.”

—

She’s anxiously tapping her foot as she waits for the elevator to arrive with the suspect, Rossi standing just behind her. Only 15 minutes after being on the news, the man that was in the security footage contacted them. Making his way over for a voluntary interview.

He looks Y/N up and down with a smile, “I heard you were looking for me.”

“I sure was,” she plays along with it, smiling and making him think she’s interested as well. “I knew you’d get the message, we just need all the help we can get right now.”

“Of course,” he has his ego stroked so well that they can roll with it.

“Would you mind coming with me and Agent Rossi to talk about everything you saw?” She batts her lashes at him, really selling it.

“Sure,” he follows them down the hall.

Rossi opens the door and lets them in first, letting her get him settled and a glass of water. “So you can tell me everything from that night?”

“Sure,” he nods, explaining his taxi job, his run for the night and his alibi.

“So why did you step back into the doorway?” She asks as she sits in front of him. Straight-faced as she catches him off guard.

“Excuse me?”

“You stepped out of the way to let her pass and then followed her, she made no motion to say she wanted your services, so I’m just wondering why you would follow her before she disappeared?”

“Huh,” he suddenly feels played and his personality switches. “I thought this was just a chat?”

“I’m simply asking you questions? If you don’t have answers that makes you suspicious. An innocent person would have given me an answer,” she fights back.

“She’s right, you got very defensive very fast,” Rossi finally speaks up.

He shakes his head with a huff. “I was going to ask if she needed a ride, she looked pretty messed up. And then some guy came over and wrapped his arm around her and they walked off. They seemed to know one another. I thought she was safe in his hands.”

Only his tone doesn’t match the words. He sounds jealous— It’s not like she would have been a large tab, he wasn’t jealous because he lost a customer. No, he’s jealous like someone stepped in and prevented him from snatching an easy victim.

“Fair enough,” she pretends to believe him. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

“I can go now?” He changes right back to confused.

She nods, “I’ll escort you down if you’d like?”

“Thanks,” he stands and follows her to the door where Rossi stops her.

“Are you sure?”

She nods, “I’ll be back up shortly.”

She catches up with him by the elevators, “did you have to drive far to get here?” She makes small talk.

“Not really,” he shakes it off. “I like your necklace.”

She touches her necklace and her face drops, “thanks.”

“Necklaces are my favourite.”

“You don’t wear any?” She notices in the form of a question.

He shakes his head as the elevator opens at the ground level. “I think they’re nice gifts.”

She nods along, pretending that didn’t set off every ret alert and alarm in her mind, “well here you are. Thanks again for all the help.”

“No problem,” he goes to leave, turning to stop and block the doors from closing. “If you want, later tonight I can show you everything I saw at the alley?”

“Yeah, sure,” she agrees with no plan to go.

“8 pm? At Cafe Linda?”

“See you then,” she agrees and he steps back letting the door close and then she loses her cool.

Feverishly smashing the floor 6 button, and begging to make it back up to Hotch to tell him everything. But she also just wants to cry but she holds it in as she makes it to their floor matching past Rossi and right into the briefing room.

“He may not be our unsub but that man is a creep,” she announces. “He not only complimented my necklace but he asked me to come to the alley tonight so he can walk me through what he saw.”

“You’re not going,” Hotch announces.

“I didn’t plan to,” she snaps. “I think we need to look into him because he’s either giving little girls necklaces to keep them quiet or he’s taking necklaces after he kills women.”

“Kathy’s parents said she was in a necklace when she went missing,” Emily adds. “His connection to this case and being at NYU right before she went missing gives us enough probable cause for a search warrant.”

Hotch sighs, “fine. I’ll call a judge, you and Y/N can go and search his place.”

“So shouldn’t we arrest him before he leaves the building?” Morgan asks.

“He’s still in the garage, I’ve let the security know to stop him and arrest him at the gate,” Garcia adds, listening in and planning in advance.

“Thank you,” Hotch smiles at her, “you’re always reading my mind.”

Garcia smiles back at him, “always, sir.”

“Okay, let’s go,” she looks at Emily and waiting for her to turn to leave the room.

“Let’s,” she motions for Y/N to take the lead and follows.

The drive to his house is so weird… she doesn’t quite know how to talk to Emily, knowing only slightly about her and her knowing nothing about Y/N.

“So how long have you and Spencer been dating?” Her first question just gets right to the point.

She laughs awkwardly, “3 days…”

“Oh…”

She hums as she nods along, looking out the window and avoiding Emily’s eye contact. “It’s new, we’re both pretty infatuated with each other but we’re taking it slower than most people because I’m afraid to let my feelings change how I do the job.”

“Makes sense,” Emily replies. Her voice is so sweet, she has an aura of calm that follows her and lets Y/N feel safe. She gets why Spencer said she was his best friend on the team before her.

“The necklace comment… why did it make you so wary of this guy?”

“When I was in middle school a guy gave me a necklace while he was grooming me,” she whispers. Looking out the window and pretending it doesn’t bother her now. “It’s fine, I don’t have it anymore, but I knew this guy had that same vibe.”

Emily put her hand out, letting Y/N interlock their fingers and hold it. “I know I just met you, but you’re family now. I’m here if you’re ever suddenly not fine with it anymore…”

“Thanks,” she smiles. “Let’s get this fucker.”

—

By the time the warrant went through, Spencer and Elle had joined them to search the first suspect's house while Emily left to help the rest of the team with suspect two. Tracking all the license plates in the area like Spencer suggested lead them to a Chinese food delivery driver in the area.

That didn’t stop Y/N from destroying her suspect's house. They tore the house apart, searching every nook and cranny for any answer that would make sense. She was tempted to lift the floorboards up, call in SCSI to run ground-penetrating radar and search the fucking walls if they had to.

But then she found it.

A small metal box in the laundry room contained some tools and when she lifted up the fake bottom, she found 5 necklaces.

“Elle!!” She yelled through the house.

They both came running down the hall to her, “is this Kathy’s necklace?”

“Oh my god,” she whispered with a nod.

“I want to kill this guy,” she mumbles under her breath as she places the necklaces back in the box and closes it up.

“Spencer doesn’t need another girl he has a crush on to murder someone and get kicked out of the bureau,” Elle teases.

“What?” Y/N asks.

“Way to go,” Spencer nudges her.

Y/N stands up with the box and slides it into a large evidence bag before taping it up. “I guess he has a type then.”

“I don’t,” Spencer tries to cover up. “I mean, if I do then it’s people who are nice to me…”

She smiles at him, unable to even pretend to be jealous or mad. “It’s hard to be mean to you when you’re so cute.”

“Ew,” Elle announces her disgust as she leaves the room.

“Let’s get out of here before I end up kissing you in a murderer's laundry room,” Spencer teases, taking her hand and leading her out of the house as the rest of the forensics team takes over the bagging of evidence.

“Guys,” Elle rushes back to them with her phone pressed to her ear. “We have a bigger problem than we thought with Bahni.”

They rush into the SUV, putting the team on the speaker to hear the most unthinkable. “So I did what Y/N suggested and searched every single driver coming in and off-campus and the last street she was seen on,” Penelope explains back. “And I came across a man who was delivering Chinese food under the name Tom Larson… and it’s ironic his name is tom because he has a plethora of peeping offences and general creepiness alongside a metric shit-ton of abuse from his dad and dead mother.”

“Okay?” Elle follows.

“Tom Larson lives near Bahni,” Emily explains, “I was just at his house where I found him and his father had been murdered.”

“So we have not 1 but 3 creeps in this case, and none of them are who took Bahni?” Spencer rubs his eyes. “Please tell me we know who was in Tom’s car last night.”

“That’s where it gets tricky,” Penelope says with the doles tones of keys clicking behind her words. “We were just contacted by the fugitive Taskforce because they believe one of the murderers they’ve been tracking took Bahni… but he has ties to a much larger scale global sex trafficking ring.”

Elle flies through the streets with their lights on, pulling back into headquarters and right up to the security check. “So who is this guy?”

“Once you get back up here, Agent Simmons and Alvez will explain everything,” Hotch confirms. “I’m taking Derek to see Cruze, we need to tell him what’s going on.”

“Sounds good,” Elle hangs up and throws the SUV in park.

Y/N hesitates, staying put and taking a few breaths as Spencer watches. Elle’s left the car and is already on her way to the elevator. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I just have a hug real quick?”

“Yeah,” he wraps his arms around her and holds her close. “Are you okay?”

She nods against him, “yeah it’s just good to have at least 8 hugs a day.”

“Hug me whenever you need to,” he whispers against her hair, kissing the side of her head before she pulls back.

“Kisses are helpful too?”

He smiles, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers, mumbling against them, “how many?”

She hums, “10?”

He pecks her lips 10 times and counts each one, making her giggle, it takes so much effort to hold her smile back to keep kissing him but she feels much better.

“Thank you,” she beams and she can swear Spencer's eyes sparkle as he smiles back.

She pulls him into another hug, “I hate that we have to go catch a killer right now.”

“Come on then, as soon as we get him we can go on another date somewhere?”

She shakes her head, “after this case I think we should take a nap together… I’m exhausted and I don’t want to let you go.”

Spencer shakes his head in amazement, “you really like me?”

“Yeah, maybe I do,” she teases him. “You should get used to it because it’s only going to get more intense and I will smother you with love.”

He just shrugs, “it’s about time—“

They’re startled with a knock on the window, “we get it you’re in love, can we go now?”

“Sorry!” Y/N calls back with a giggle, pulling him in for one last kiss before getting out. Spencer follows with a deep blush that everyone will see when they get back upstairs, but it looks cute on him.

Luke Alvez has been trying to catch one criminal for the last 2 years. Simon Garrett has been a pain in the ass for the FBI, the CIA and DEA. He first showed up on their radar when his DNA was found on 14 women’s remains, all of who had been missing for at least 5 years.

His DNA was then traced to his son in the foster system, who’s been off the radar for the last 10 years. Everette Garrett.

“Now he’s interesting because I’ve been investigating his sex trafficking ring between Canada and the United States,” Matt adds. “All 14 women his father's DNA was found on were thought to be in his ring, which means when they get too old he hands them to his father to take care of.”

Y/N shakes her head as she listens, “so if you’ve been looking for them for this long what makes you think we can find them in time to save Bahni?”

“We’ve been tracking him for a while, we knew that he had a new girl on his radar and when we heard it was Bahni Desai we knew it was time to get you guys,” Matt explains.

“So far we know that she has to be taken to this warehouse in Alexandria before she goes any further, we’re going to intercept them before they make it to the warehouse and then use their car to gain access to take the whole thing down,” Luke rolls out a map of the facility then.

“We need to have the place surrounded for any runners, SWAT is getting prepped, we’re going tonight at 3 am,” Matt adds. “Morgan, Hotch, Prentiss, Alvez and Myself will be running a team at each of the 5 exits. Once inside, each team's swat unit will deploy gas to carefully knock everyone out, from there we need someone to cuff everyone at least until we know who is a victim and who is working there.”

“We’re taking everyone alive?” Spencer makes sure he hears them right.

“We need to know what the step after this warehouse is if we want to rescue more victims,” Luke’s voice is gentle yet stern as he explains. “I’ve seen this man take too many women from good homes and ruin their lives, I’m not letting him slip out of my fingers.”

“We’ve had this planned for months, we just needed to wait for the next confirmed drop-off.”

“Who’s driving?” Y/N asks, having a feeling it was her and Spencer.

“He’s Reids age,” Hotch announces from the door as he walks in with Cruze, “so we’ll replace Everette with Reid and Bahni with Y/L/N.”

“Rossi and Elle will be there to apprehend Everette, we’re setting up a fake traffic spot to irritate him and inhibit him from running. You two will be in a duplicate car arriving at the warehouse at the arranged time,” Emily confirms. “We just have to prep SWAT and then we can leave.”

“Alright, let’s get ready.”

—

Pretending to be kidnapped in the back of a car driven by her boyfriend was possibly the weirdest way to spend a Tuesday morning. Driving the exact make and model as their unsub, her heartbeat was loud enough to cover the sound of the engine and distract her from the long drive. She was overly anxious, and rightly so, it was her first sting.

And she was doing it all without coffee. Tired but full of adrenaline, she wanted to close her eyes and drift off but she knew she needed to be ready to apprehend the men at the gate with Spencer.

She feels the large bump, indicating they just went over a speed bump and she knows what that means. The car slows and she can hear the muffled talking before swat steps in, soon enough Spencer is cracking the trunk open and reaching in for her.

“Are you okay?” He helps her to her feet and makes sure her bulletproof vest is on right before handing her, her gun and watching her clip it on.

“Yeah, what happened?”

“The guards are down, Swat moved in as soon as we arrived, now we have to stand here and wait for them to clear the building,” Spencer explains as they walk to the front of her car.

She draws her gun and keeps it pointed low, guarded as they watch the front entrance for anyone to escape. “Do you know if Bahni is okay?” She whispers towards him.

He nods, “they radioed in that they got her, she’s being airlifted to the hospital with JJ right now.”

She nods with a deep breath, “okay good.”

“It’s going to be fine, we have enough SWAT here to take the government,” he tries to joke, getting a laugh from one of the officers… very strange to see someone laugh while holding an assault rifle.

One of the swat side steps towards Spencer, “I’m hearing on the line that they’ve cleared every room. They’re cuffing everyone, you’re free to enter.”

“Thanks,” Spencer replies.

The high-pitched screech rubber gripping asphalt in an attempt to stop draws their attention backwards. Elle and Rossi jumping out with their guns drawn, ready to join even though the exciting part is long over.

“No runners?” Elle asks, holstering her weapon. “Aw man, I was excited.”

“Not a one,” Y/N adds, watching the front entrance for the rest of the team to start funnelling out with the unsubs.

Luke exits first with a big smile on his face, Simon Garrett cuffed and barely stumbling out the door in front of him. He finally got him.

“well done,” Elle congratulates him. “Let me help you get him in SWAT van.”

“I think she has a thing for Luke,” Rossi leans into Y/N to gossip. “she wouldn’t stop asking about him on the drive…”

“Ooo,” Y/N teases, getting more and more tired as her adrenaline drops. Her eyes are heavy and Rossi can tell.

“Why don’t I bring you and the good doctor home, I don’t think they need all of us for the wrap-up,” Rossi pats her back. “You’ve had a long night, kid.”

“Thank you,” she smiles, holstering her gun and turning with him towards the SUV. “I’m so exhausted.”

“Well you’ve been on the job for almost 24 hours now, you’ve officially made it through your first overnight sting op,” Rossi congratulates her like he’s her grandpa.

She turns back when she doesn’t hear Spencer following her, “Spence? Are you coming?”

“Um,” he has something to ask as he follows then but he doesn’t say it. “Yeah, sorry.”

“It’s okay, come sit with me in the back?” She asks, sliding in beside him and resting her head on his shoulder as soon as their seatbelts are on.

“Did you still want to have a nap together?” He whispers, feeling her nod against his shoulder before she pulls back.

“Come here,” she tugs him in against her chest, snuggling in as best as she could in their sitting position. Holding him close and feeling him drift off in her arms. She has no problem following suit.

When she wakes, Rossi is parked outside of her apartment, “here you go, Y/N.”

She hums as she comes to, shaking Spencer awake too, “Spence, come on, let’s get to bed.”

“He’s going with you?”

She nods, “don’t tell Penelope. She’ll have a field day, I just want a nap.”

“You better get more than a nap,” Rossi orders. “You guys need to actually rest before you come back to work on Wednesday.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she teases him. “We will.”

“Bye Dave,” Spencer whispers as he gets out of the car. “Thank you for the ride.”

“Anytime kid,” Rossi waves them off, waiting for them to enter the building before driving away.

“Finally,” she sighs, dragging Spencer down the hall and towards her apartment. “I’m so fucking tired.”

“me too,” he barely says.

He follows her inside like a lost puppy, taking off his vest and shirt, slipping out of his pants until he’s in an undershirt, boxers and his mismatched socks. She’s amazed by how comfortable he is with her, but she has known him for 3 months, it’s enough time to fall in love with someone… right?

She’s loved him since she started working with him. When she realized he valued her opinions, he looked at her as a person and he genuinely loved her company. She felt a real connection with him, not just childish infatuation. He was everything to her.

She slides into bed beside him and snuggles in, wrapping an arm around his middle and resting her head on his chest.

“I guess I really can do everything,” she smirks.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She pokes his chest and giggles away the awkwardness, “the thing I wanted to do most, the thing that I couldn’t do… that was to fall in love with you, but I did it anyway.”

“Well, then I guess I can do everything too.”

She pulls away to look at him, “I love you, Spencer. I don’t know if it’s too soon, but I’ve loved you for a while.”

He pulls her in for a kiss, shocking her as he breathes her in and holds her there. “I love you, more Y/N.”

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[astaroth1357]

Brothers Accidentally Make the MC Cry

Hello, this is the obligatory italics blurb that I have to put under my titles or else things look weird and it bothers me. Don’t mind the blurb. The blurb is a friend. (Though I could start writing pieces of a little story up here just to see if anyone even reads them… Hm…. Ideas, ideas...)

Warning: Angsty

Lucifer 

If he were being honest, he’d say that a part of him had always feared this would happen...

Lucifer likes to tell himself that he’s invincible, but everyday stresses can get to him just like anybody else. And like other people, he may not always act his best when he’s dealing with a full plate…

The MC hadn’t meant to make his day harder when they told him that they accidentally broke a lamp. It was a genuine accident! But Lucifer was still dealing with the fallout from another one of Mammon’s failed schemes, Satan had cursed all of his ties again, and Beel had eaten every scrap of food in the House… for the second time that week...

In comparison to everything else, a broken lamp was quite minor, but for Lucifer it was just the last straw and, for just a moment, he lost control…

His palm slamming against his desk hard enough to snap its legs and send it crashing to the ground. He scarcely knew what kind of look he had on his face, but whatever it was, he had made his human jump back in shock...

Really, it was silly for them to assume that he had gotten that upset over a lamp, but he saw tears starting to gather in their eyes all the same as they stammered out a quiet apology… 

It felt like an ice spike to the heart. Damn his temper… He really ought to have been more careful with them after… well, everything he’d done before…

He was quick to go over to them, catching their face with his hand and giving them the most sincere apology he could muster while wiping away their tears… Overreactions aren’t becoming of him and he hated to cause them pain… 

He, of course, took care of the lamp himself as penance and on the surface that seemed to be it (but to anyone paying attention, he had softened up on the MC considerably for at least a week. They probably could have sworn in front of Diavolo and he’d let it slide, he felt that bad about it...)

“I’m sorry, MC, I shouldn't have reacted like that… You haven’t done anything wrong, I promise… Please, there’s no need to cry…”

Mammon

Oh? What's that? His heart is now in a million pieces now...? Well, that seems fair…

He and the MC were out on one of his gambling nights and he was actually on a killer winning streak for once! Jackpots around every corner, he was rolling in it!

The MC had tried to convince him to just throw in the towel early, take his winnings while he had them and bail, but he wasn’t hearing any of it.

In hindsight, their insistence must have really shown how much the MC cared about him and wanted him to keep his earnings... but in the heat of the moment all he saw was someone trying to spoil his one night of fun.

To be fair to Mammon, it’s rather rare for him to lose control of his anger like he did. But when they tried to pull him away from the roulette table, he genuinely snarled at them and told them to get lost...!

Fortunately, he regretted his actions immediately after he saw the hurt in their eyes…

If their goal had been to get him to step away from the table, they achieved it. But only because he got up to pull them into a hug while stammering out apologies… Watching them actually shed tears hurt worse than any rope Lucifer had ever tied around him...

He spent the rest of the night away from the casino and trying to cheer up his human like his life depended on it... Seeing them in pain just tore him up that much.

"Ah, come on MC… I'm sorry, honest…! Please don't look at me like that, I'll do whatever ya want okay...? Just no more cryin…"

Leviathan 

Now thinks he's the worst, literally the worst. Lower than lesser demon spit. Lower than Cerberus' shit. Lower than… well, you get the idea…

Levi can get very… intense when things involving his passions are brought up. This can be a fairly endearing quality… but it also means he gets disproportionately impassioned about seemingly minor things.

Levi ended up snapping at the MC when they let him over-sleep one day. This wasn’t unusual for them to do as Levi’s sleep schedule was notoriously shitty, but they shouldn't have done it that particular day…

An item he wanted on Akuzon was going to go live that morning and he had to be awake to participate in the bidding. He had mentioned it to the MC the day before, but he blew past it so quickly they didn’t actually remember…

He found out that he missed the bidding after he woke up and he was pissed. Genuinely enraged that they didn’t remember to wake him up to the point that he was shouting and baring his fangs! 

… Really it was not a good look and he should have known better.

The look of fear and the tears gathering in the MC’s eyes snapped him out of it like a hard slap to the face, and somehow, it stung even more than that would’ve... It wasn’t long before he was crying along with them, practically begging for forgiveness...

He made it up to them by having a private showing of their favorite movie using a projector in the Planetarium, cuddling with them under a blanket while still, occasionally, muttering apologies under his breath.

“M-MC…? MC don’t cry…!! Please don’t cry, I- I’m sorry!! I… MC… I’m so sorry…”

Satan

Like Lucifer, he always worried this would happen and he hated when it finally came to pass…

He’d spent all his life learning how to restrain his temper, but it’s not a perfect science. There are the occasional times where the heat of the moment gets the better of him and he does something he regrets…

The MC had walked in on him one morning while he was fuming about Beel leaving the fridge empty again. It hadn’t been the first time they’d seen him like this, but this time he was absolutely furious.

He had told Beel again and again and again to get his snacking under control or to, you know, get up early and get more food so the whole family wouldn’t spend the morning starving but noooo! Mr. I’m Hungry never thinks about anything but his own stomach and then leaves whoever’s on kitchen duty to pick up the slack like some dimwitted muscle-bound meathead and THEN-!!

When the MC tried to take his arm to calm him down, he jerked their hand away from him and roared right in their face. He may not be a lion, but the full sound of a pissed off demon could make humans have breakdowns all on its own…

Which was more or less what the MC began to do as he gripped their wrist, panicking while taking shallow, stuttered breaths…

Satan's anger left him swiftly and he let them go, only reaching out to touch them again when he tried to wipe the tears from their cheeks… He had to coo and beg for them to calm down, which was only so successful because he was fighting back tears himself… 

On a scale of 1-10 of the worse things his temper has ever done, he'd rank this a firm 200... He refused to touch them for about a week afterwards and it took a long time for him to trust himself again… He just didn't want to hurt them...

"MC?? MC…? M… Oh no… MC, I'm so sorry, I would never hurt you! I… I wouldn't dare… please believe me..."

Asmodeus 

Oh baby! Sweetheart! Love of his life!! No, please no… don't subject him to this…

MC and Asmo were out dancing and some witch came by to try and flatter him.

Now, Asmo is a flirt normally, but get a few drinks in him and well… Let's just say his love of attention overrides his better judgment far more often than it should and friends don't let friends go home with creepy witches.

When the MC told the witch to scram, Asmo was confused and, frankly, quite irritated. That lovely lady had been stroking his ego in all the right ways and his human just scared her off so rudely!

Under most situations, Asmo would have kept his cool better but the haze of Demonus made his tongue loose... which let the venom fly…

He couldn’t quite remember what he said. The words left his mouth so quickly that they slurred together on his clumsy tongue, but it must have been enough because the MC flinched away from him.

That hurt all on its own, but as he started to process the pain in their eyes… he had never sobered up so fast...

He had their cheeks cupped in his hands and were kissing away their tears within the instant. Though the loud music at the club should have drowned out his apologies, the MC could see it written all over his equally tearful face…

He pulled them into his arms and then out of the club shortly after, the fog of Demonus that plagued him just moments before had long left him and all he knew was that the MC needed to be brought home and cuddled… stat.

“M-MC…? I’m sorry was it something… did I…? I’m so sorry… Please don’t cry…!”

Beelzebub 

He really didn't mean to shout so loud… honest... 

Beel becomes a completely different person when he’s hungry. He’s not entirely to blame, as his hunger can get so intense, but he still can snap from time to time when he really doesn’t mean to…

It was right after one of his practices and Beel hadn’t gotten a chance to eat in a few hours by the time the MC came to grab him from RAD. That already had him in a bad mood, but practice hadn’t gone too well for him either… 

He honestly didn’t realize how sharply he snapped at the MC when they asked him how he was. The irritation and frustration of the day all hit him at once and he became much harsher towards them than he ever intended…

It must have been the shock of seeing ever-sweet Beel suddenly get so aggressive with them that startled them so. He saw a couple tears gathering in their eyes before they could hide them and his heart just sank…

The MC was picked up in a crushing bear hug before they even let out their first sniffle. Beel didn’t even have to say how sorry he was, they could feel it in every squeeze he gave them. All while he completely ignored the growling of his stomach...

Beel wouldn’t let them go until he was certain they’d forgiven him which, honestly, took a while. Mammon was the one to ask why he had carried them all the way back to the House like a baby but… well, he didn’t need to know, now did he?

“MC, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have shouted… Are you alright...?”

Belphegor 

Stubborn boi is stubborn and trying really, really hard not to crack right now...

That's not going to last long.

Belphie can be a bit of a brat and since he's the baby of the family so he's used to getting his way. He and the MC don't argue a ton, but when they do, he always digs his heels in and refuses to budge an inch on anything.

So what started out as a simple disagreement on how often Belphie would flake out on his chores turned into a kick-the-door-down argument over how much his laziness left the MC to pick up the slack...

It ended as all their barn burning arguments do, with demon-form Belphie sitting cross-legged on his bed refusing to look at them and the MC angrily pacing about the room until he cools off…

And then he heard it.

First a sniffle… and then a hiccup. Another sniffle then muffled whine…

Oh no… not this… Why are they crying…? They don't normally cry…

To his credit (or perhaps discredit), he managed to hold out for about two minutes before he finally glanced back at them. Seeing the MC wiping their tears all alone on the floor crumbled his resolve real quick.

The MC found themselves enveloped by Belphie's arms before they even noticed he got up. Naturally, he was pouting and trying to make it seem like "not a big deal or anything" but they could tell by the nervous twitch of his tail that he was hurting too…

Needless to say. Belphie started remembering his chores a lot more after that.

"Humans are so fragile… I didn't mean to make you cry, you know? I'll get things done just… Don't cry… please…"

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me imagines

[notanotherreidgirl]

I just had an idea based on my recent health experience: What if Spence had to wear a Holter for 24 or 72 hours to measure his heart's activity (maybe as part of the FBIs health checks) ? And he has to take notes of everything he does so that they can match it with the information collected so he cannot have sex or masturbate unless he's willing to justify his increased heart activity to a team of doctors. So, reader being reader, decides to drive him nuts, teasing him again and again because she knows he can't do anything about it. (Does he end up cumming in his pants because he's trying so hard not to touch himself and increase his heart rate?) ☺️🥰

Love ya! Have a great day!

Let's Get Physical

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, edging, blowjob, grinding, coming in pants

Word Count: 1380 (i'm inclined to just call this a full fic)

A/N: First, an apology. This has been in my inbox for quite a while and I am very sorry about the wait. Secondly, I made this entire scenario up after doing some minimal research on Holter monitors so it might not make sense.

Spencer gave Hotch’s door a light tap before taking a deep breath and then giving two sharp knocks. “Come in”

The door swung open and Derek patted him on the shoulder with a smile as he exited, no doubt having just received a glowing report regarding his physical health. Spencer dropped into the seat, casting a quick glance at the team of health professionals on Hotch’s couch and immediately regretting it. They were very clinical looking - pressed white lab coats, hair combed and gelled back, clipboards piled with papers, already scribbling away and speaking among themselves in hushed voices. “Ok Dr. Reid, we just have a few questions to ask you regarding your health practices and then we’ll take a look at the results from the Holter Monitor. Is that alright?”

“Um yeah. Yeah, that’s fine” he glanced over at Hotch who was leafing through Spencer’s notes with a raised eyebrow. The first few questions about his diet and lifestyle practices were easy but then came the dreaded evaluation of the Holter measurements. “Now we just have a few questions about some of the readings from the Holter. I see there was a bit of a spike right after you put it on that you attributed to nerves?”

“O-oh uh yeah, I was just a little nervous about having it on. That was it.” But that wasn’t the exact truth.

---

You had Spencer sit cross-legged on the bed without his shirt when he came home with the Holter. He was explaining how it worked as you studied the diagram detailing how to put it on. You slipped the wearable recording device over his head and climbed into his lap, surreptitiously rocking your hips into his as you untangled the wires. His hands encircled your waist, adjusting your angle so your clothed core ran against his entire length. You attached the electrodes carefully, kissing each patch of skin before covering it. His breath came out in soft pants as his release mounted and he squeezed his eyes shut. Just as he was about to come, you clicked the machine on and his eyes flew open.

“Wait, Y/N! I can’t - I’m supposed to keep my heart rate down.” The panic in his voice was evident and you smirked. If there was one thing you knew about Spencer it was that he liked succeeding. One might even say he liked winning - 3 Ph.Ds, prolific poker player, unsubs behind bars - so it didn’t come as a surprise to you that he was keen on passing his health evaluation. You trailed a hand down his chest, feeling the pounding heart he was trying to calm with deep breaths. “If you say so, doc”

---

The evaluator’s next question snapped him from his reverie. “That sounds fine but there was a concerning increase in your heart activity at 2 AM. It says here that you were exercising, specifically sprinting?”

Spencer dropped the pen he had been twirling and dove under his chair to get it. “Ah yes, I - uh - those are my nightly sprints.”

If Hotch’s eyebrows went up any farther they’d disappear in his hairline. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand across his face in exasperation when he spotted your face peeking out through an opening in his office blinds. You darted away quickly, sprinting back to your desk. Meanwhile, Spencer mentally chastised himself for his lack of self-restraint, saying that he was doing sprints at 2 AM was stupid but it was the only thing he could think of that could somewhat explain his elevated heart rate without revealing his actual activities.

---

He couldn’t sleep with the monitor on, tossing and turning in your arms until he rolled onto his back and let out a frustrated huff. You sleepily propped yourself up on your elbow. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

He scooted in closer, curling his body into yours and burying his face into your tits. He whined, “Can’t sleep with this thing on me”

“Oh, poor baby. Do you need me to make you feel better?” You dipped a hand down the front of his pajama pants and he automatically pressed his hips forward, used to you soothing him in this way after nightmares. He was already half-hard and you stroked him softly before sliding down the bed. His whimpers at the loss of your breasts exploded into loud moans as you swallowed his length, running your tongue up the underside of his cock and sucking at the tip before taking him back into your throat. Usually, you would take your time but you were feeling particularly wicked tonight, bringing a hand up to cradle his balls as the other forced his wild hips down onto the bed. Once again you pulled away just as his orgasm began to materialize and he threw his head back against the pillows, whines devolving into a choked sob. “We wouldn’t want to mess up your Holter results, now would we?”

Needless to say, he didn’t get any sleep that night.

---

“Well Dr. Reid, this kind of activity is most unusual and frankly quite concerning. Your heart rate even shot up right before you returned the monitor which you again attributed to nerves.” Spencer’s face reddened as he recalled the events that transpired that morning.

---

He was pacing down a vacant hallway in the basement of the Bureau, willing his nerves away. He was sure he would fail. Could you even fail one of these evaluations? Probably. If anyone could fail it would be Spencer. Between the events of the last 24 hours and the fact that Derek was going right before him, he knew he was screwed. And then as if the universe were conspiring against him there you were coming out of the printer room, heels clicking against the floor, hips swaying, a form-fitting blouse leaving just enough to the imagination. And Spencer had a very vivid imagination. Watching you float towards him was really all it took to have him standing at attention, heart rate skyrocketing. But you were ever the overachiever, threading his tie between your fingers and pulling him in for a kiss. Your knee came up between his legs and he automatically rocked into you, still worked up from your relentless denial. You ran your tongue over his bottom lip, deepening the kiss and applying even more pressure. “You’ve been so good, sweetheart. Trying your very hardest to control yourself. It’s adorable.”

It didn’t even occur to Spencer that he had to return the monitor along with his notes in less than 10 minutes, he was cumming in his pants as soon as the praise left your lips, whining into your mouth as he finally attained his long-awaited release. He looked down at you in shock as you stepped back. “Shit, Y/N! What do I do? They’re gonna call me up in 5 minutes!”

You gave him a mocking look of sympathy as you smoothed the wrinkles in his dress shirt. “Guess you better get cleaned up then”

---

“Dr. Reid, I’d like to see you again for a follow-up.” The doctor on the left scribbled their name on the bottom of a form and handed it to Spencer. He gave the paper a quick glance before looking over at Hotch with wide eyes. Help me.

Hotch sighed, taking the form from Spencer and giving it a quick scan before returning it to the evaluation team. “As we know, Dr. Reid has had a tumultuous history with these physical assessments. However, he is an invaluable member of this team and has proven himself in the field time and time again. I don’t see any reason to prolong this evaluation. Now if you’ll excuse us, I believe Dr. Reid was your last appointment of the day”

They protested but Hotch fixed them with his trademark stare and they stood up to leave. “Very well, but Dr. Reid will not be exempt from his yearly fitness test this time.”

Spencer gulped, watching them file out the room. He turned to Hotch thanking him as he took his file and turned to leave, glad it was over. But before he could leave, Hotch cleared his throat. “I take it Y/N will be helping you train for your fitness test”

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #sub!spence coming in his pants is something that can be so personal #lanie's 1k celebration! #unsuitable for work

[kaihavoc]

heyyy, could you write something fluffy with Puli??? anything at all. thanks already!

hi, anonie! I'm SO SO sorry it took a while to get back to you. I was overthinking writing this and just being hard on myself. but thank you so much for requesting something! I hope you like it! I'll always write for Puli because he has such a soft spot in my heart <3

~~~~~

You walk into your and Christian’s apartment, keys jingling impatiently from your fingertips before you toss them on the entryway table. You kick off your boots and enter the living room with an exhausted huff, wanting nothing more than to scarf down dinner and bury yourself in bed. It’d been a long day at work and you had done your best to keep your cool from 9 to 5, but now that you’re in the privacy of your own home, you’re about to snap. Especially when you see the mess Christian had made in the living room while you were away.

“Christian, baby, the living room is a mess,” you grit through your teeth, rubbing your temples with your eyes closed, unable to take in the chaos before you. “Will you please tidy up while I get started on dinner?”

When you get no response, you can’t help but glare at the hodgepodge of blankets and cushions strewn around the room.

“Christian,” you hiss, stressing his name so that he knows you’re serious. “I’m not in the mood for kiddish games tonight. I’m tired, I’m hungry and, quite frankly, I’m long overdue for some cuddles." You cross your arms, your lips pulling into a pout, fully expecting Christian to pop out of thin air and finally embrace you like he always does when he’s home before you are. But he doesn’t appear.

“Fine, if this is how you’re going to be,” you mutter under your breath, dropping to your hands and knees before crawling into the makeshift fort of bedsheets.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Christian reprimands, pushing your forehead with his index finger to force you out of the fort. “No password, no entry.”

“A password? Really?” You scowl at him. “What are we, five? Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if your brain never developed past pre-school.”

“Ouch, babe. That's harsh.” Christian clutches his heart and fakes a wounded expression, his brown curls dangling over his eyes. Sitting on tucked knees, he’s dressed simply in cotton shorts and a tank top, your favorite uniform on him -- second only to his Chelsea kit. With the way he looks, what you really want to do is twine your arms around his neck and kiss every last one of the freckles that dust his nose and cheeks. But by the way he’s acting, you would love nothing more than to smack him upside the head.

“Okay, what’s the stupid password?”

“I can't just tell you. You're supposed to know.”

“How am I supposed to know it if you don't tell me?” You growl.

“I’ll help you out. Here's a hint: it's a nickname I love to call you--”

"Pumpkin?"

"--and you love to hate," Christian finishes with a grin, his dimples deeply imprinted in his cheeks to prove his enjoyment in teasing you.

"Chipmunk," you answer automatically, frowning, not finding the amusement in any of this. Chipmunk. You earned that nickname on your very first date with Christian. You still harbored a smidge of baby fat back then and, in passing, Christian had mentioned how you were as cute as a chipmunk. He almost didn’t get a second date after that.

"You got it, chipmunk!" Christian cheers, yanking you inside the blanket fort and positioning you between his legs. Your back pressed his chest and his arms snugly around you, he inhales the scent of your hair. "I set all this up for us. Well, for you. I thought we could have a movie night. I ordered a pizza. Got all your favorite candy. I even made sure I got enough pillows and blankets so we’d be comfortable all night."

You turn your head to stare at him blankly, taking your boyfriend in with critical eyes.

"Or I can clean all this up like you asked me to when you first walked in,” he offers quickly, a pink tint settling over his freckles.

You shake your head, your lips curled into a small smile, your heart practically bursting with pure adoration for Christian. "No, no, this is perfect.”

“You sure?” Christian crinkles his nose, unbelieving. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re just... the cutest,” you sigh happily, tapping your fingers rhythmically on his muscular thigh. “So what movie are we watching?

“I was thinking Monsters Inc.?”

“Annnd the five-year-old is back.”

After Christian finally convinces you to watch Monsters Inc. with him (for the umpteenth time), you lay your head on his chest, dipping your leg in between his thighs, and the two of you stay like that for the rest of the night. You two never detach from each other, not even to eat -- Christian fed you bites of the pepperoni pizza and opened all the candy bar wrappers for you.

By the time the movie is over, you’re sprawled over Christian’s chest on your stomach. You look up at him through your drooping eyelids, fighting your urge to pass out.

“I love you, Christian,” you whisper.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he mumbles back, his eyelids fluttering shut.

“No. I love you,” you repeat, incessant and firm despite your drowsy voice. “You make every day fun and you remind me what’s really important in life. Which isn't some job, but making time for the people you love."

“I'll always make time for you because I'll always love you,” Christian replies, brushing a passionate yet delicate kiss on your lips before the two of you nod off in each other's arms.

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic blurb #christian pulisic one shot #christian pulisic x reader #football blurb #football fanfic #footballer blurb #footballer imagine #football fanfiction #ask

[zodiakuroo]

pierced

idk what to tell you this is just 2k of pussy eating (don’t blame me blame eren brain rot)

18+, minors dni

part 2

“What did you do?!” You say, incredulously. It’s a rhetorical question, you can see exactly what he’s done. Eren stands in front of you, shamelessly, with his pants and boxers dropped to his ankles as his flaccid penis hangs between his thighs. Your attention is mainly focused on the brand new, shiny titanium barbell that goes through the head of his dick.

“Do you like it?” You can tell by his posture and the shit-eating grin on his face that he’s incredibly proud of his newest body modification.

“Why on earth would you get a piercing there?” The bulbous head is just few shades of pink darker than the rest of his pale shaft. You wince in your seat, imagining what it would feel like to stick a needle right through your most sensitive parts.

“Well, it was a dare and Jean bet that I wouldn’t so I had to.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, fully aware of how silly it sounds as he says it out loud.

“Of course.” You mutter. What other chain of events would lead to your boyfriend coming home with a fucking Prince Albert. “Does it hurt?” You lean in just a little closer and notice the little bit of dried blood where the jewelry pierces his flesh.

“Nah. Didn’t feel a thing.” He says with a wink and begins dressing himself again before dropping down on couch next you, throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest.

“You’re such an idiot.” You giggle, nuzzling your head into his neck, inhaling the heady scent you’ve come to associate with him.

“There is one thing though.” His voice is softer, lacking it’s usual self-assured tone. He can’t say that he’s happy about what he’s about to tell you. In fact, had he known about this small detail beforehand he might not have gone through with that stupid dare.

“Hmm?” You respond noncommittally, too preoccupied by your current task of leaving gentle kisses on his jaw and giving him the soft affection you know he loves but will never ask for.

“No sex for a month. Piercer’s orders.” His eyes drift down cautiously to gauge your reaction.

You stop in your tracks and frown up at him. At first you think he’s kidding but no such luck. “Oh my god.” You groan. “You’re such an idiot.”

Three days.

A grand total of three days.

It’s sad really, but you should have seen it coming. Like Eren Jaeger’s libido would ever let him go a whole 30 days with no sex.

He blames you and the way you prance around the apartment in those tight, short shorts. How is he not supposed to want you when he has to spend the day watching your tits bounce around in that white tank top, nipples just barely visible through the fabric?

It’s not like you put up much of a fight anyways. The way that man has you wrapped around your finger, all it took was a few well-placed touches and whispers of how much he misses the way you feel and the way you taste. Just like that, Eren has you naked, legs hanging off the edge of the bed with his face buried in your cunt.

“Love this pussy.” He murmurs, nipping at the soft skin of your inner thigh. “Can’t live without it.”

He knows that he can’t be inside you. He knows. And yet he continues to torture himself because this is as close as he can get to what he really needs.

The rough pads of his fingertips massage your wall making you buck into his hand, silently begging for something deeper. He laps at you with his tongue, running it from your clit all the way down to your hole, licking up the slick that leaks out around his knuckles.

You feel the sparks of pleasure heating up your abdomen and you squeeze your thighs around his head, weaving your hands through his long, mahogany locks. ‘Eren’falls from your lips over and over in breathy mewls that only encourage him to keep going. His fingers put in double time hitting the special spot deep inside you while he seals his lips around clit and pulls it into his mouth. You dig your heels into his back to give you leverage to rut into his face as he pushes you closer and closer towards an inevitable orgasm.

You’re so hot and wet inside, squeezing so tight around his fingers. His mind conjures up memories of how good it felt to have your gooey walls clamping down on his dick and the soft cries you let out as he split you open.

He’s rock solid in his sweats right now and his cock hurts, sensitive tissue swelling and pulsating around his still fresh piercing. But he can’t think about that right now. All that’s on his mind is how badly he wants to be inside you right now. Any of your holes, it doesn’t matter which. But they’re all off limits.

Quite frankly, it pisses him off.

There is no choice but for him to take his frustrations out on your body. He slowly drags his fingers out of you, marveling at the way your needy cunt tries to pull him back in.

Before you can even protest Eren presses his fingers, still warm from your pussy and covered in your cream, against your lips.

“Open up.” He practically growls, voice thick with arousal.

You part your lips in response, letting him clean his fingers off using your tongue. Reflexively, you close your lips around them and begin to suck, moaning at the taste of yourself.

“God, princess.” He pants with his jaw slack. “Want your mouth around me so bad.”

It only motivates you to take his fingers deeper. Deep enough to make you gag as your drool runs down his knuckles while you swirl your tongue around his digits.

The way you look at him doesn’t help either. Usually you’d shy away from eye contact when he makes you do something embarrassing like this, sucking on his fingers like you’re sucking on his cock. But tonight is different. You stare straight at him with that heavy-lidded gaze, eyes glossy and full of want. The frustration is killing him, he can’t stand to look at you anymore so instead he gives his undivided attention to your cunt.

“Babe you wanna know something?” His breath fans over your soaked core, making you twitch in his hold. Something gives you the feeling that he’s not really talking to you, he’s talking to what’s between your legs. Although he’s not even looking at you, you still nod your head yes, so wound up you’ll take anything from him at this point.

“I read online,” He goes quiet for a moment, distracted at the way your weeping hole clenches around nothing, almost like it’s begging for him to fill it. “That dick piercings feel real good in pussy. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

Eren bends down to lick at your dripping hole, he slides his tongue all the way down, making sure not waste a single drop, stopping just above the tight ring of muscle making your squeal in surprise.

”Can you imagine it?” He drags is fingers from your lips, leaving a path of saliva down the valley of your breasts, across your stomach until he reaches your clit, rubbing the sensitive numb in slow, steady circles with his thumb while you fist the sheets trying to swallow the sounds he’s coaxing out of you. “How it’s gonna feel inside you? How it’s gonna hit that spot that makes you go dumb?”

Sure, he sounds composed but when you look down at him and see the way his pupils are blown wide, pretty pink tongue hanging slightly out of his mouth, you know he’s imagining it too.

“Gonna drive you crazy.” His calloused fingertips dig further into your pudgy thighs, clipped nails leaving little crescents indented in your skin. “Make you even more crazy for my cock than you already are.”

“Yeah ‘ren.” You gasp as he runs his tongue through your folds. “Wan’ your cock.” You babble mindless agreements at whatever filth he’s spewing, too fucked out and desperate for his cock to care.

Like the bastard he is, he chuckles at your response, satisfied with knowing that you want him just as bad as he wants you.

He leans forward and presses the flat of his tongue against your entrance, telling you (wordlessly) what he wants.

Beg

He wants you to beg for it.

And of course you oblige. You chant out ‘please Eren, please Eren, please Eren’ over and over again as if you’ve forgotten every other word.

He rewards for your obedience by pushing the slippery muscle into your hole, nice and slow savouring the way your tart essence covers his taste buds.

“Fuck- more please.” Your back arches off the bed in response but his left hand splays across your abdomen keeping you in place.

His right thumb is still rubbing you, pressing harder, going faster while he drives his tongue even deeper licking up all of your juices like a man starved. He devours you shamelessly, the sloppy sounds only drowned out by your pornographic whining. He thrusts in and out, in and out, in and out, fucking you with his tongue, making sure to taste every inch of you.

Your flavor is addictive, he can’t get enough. He grunts against with his face shoved against you, sending vibrations from your core, right up your spine. His fingers and tongue assault your pussy mercilessly, setting every single nerve on fire.

“Baby- ah- I- I’m close” you whimper, feeling tension brewing in your core, threatening to burst at any second.

“No.” The hand that was playing with your pussy comes down hard on your puffy clit, the sound of the smack echoing in the quiet room.

You let out a cry, so high pitched you can hardly believe it’s your voice.

“Can’t come until I do.” Just like that, he’s off of you completely, leaving you trembling without his touch.

The pain and frustration have tears brimming at your lash line. How cruel of him. To dangle an orgasm right in front of your face before yanking it away. You begin to stammer out pleas, begging him to touch you again, but they fall on deaf ears.

“C’mon princess. ‘S only fair right?” He looks up at you with the sweetest, emerald puppy dog eyes, juxtaposing the lewd way he licks the remnants of your arousal from his swollen lips.

It’s not fair at all. You weren’t the one who decided to get their dick pierced on a whim. Why should you have to suffer? But there’s too much blood in your throbbing cunt and not enough in your brain so you can hardly put together a coherent sentence, let alone argue with him.

“Gonna edge you like this every day yeah?” He shifts his body to hover over you, using his arms to hold himself up so that his nose barely brushes yours and stray stands of his messy hair tickle the sides of your face. “Till I get to fuck you again.” He dips down to kiss you on the lips. It’s barely more than a peck, far too chaste and gone far too soon.

“Christ, I can’t wait to fuck you again.”

#eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger smut #eren smut #aot smut #eren yaeger x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren yaeger x reader smut

[jaehyunfirstlove]

Hiii can u please write something on getting railed by jaehyun in a sundress because I saw this meme on twt and it’s all I can think abt now,,, thank you and happy 1K!

Pairing: boyfriend!jaehyun x f.reader

Genre: smut (18+ only)

Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, cum kink, dirty talk, swearing

Word count: 0.8k

A/N: i must admit i'm not on twt so i haven't seen this meme, but i googled it and got an idea :) thank you for sending this in, and i hope you like it!

It was the first warm day of the summer, and your boyfriend, Jaehyun, promised to take you out for a picnic. You’d only been dating for a few weeks, and he’d been a complete gentleman, only some semi-heated make-out sessions to speak of, but you knew you wanted more. You saw that glint in his eye, you knew there was something waiting to be unleashed in there, and frankly, you were dying to find out.

Which is how you found yourself in your flowiest, swingiest sundress. You twirled in front of your mirror, satisfied with how the skirt swirled around your legs, and how the neckline only gave a hint of cleavage, the fabric clinging perfectly to your curves. When Jaehyun came to pick you up his jaw almost fell to the ground, but he recovered quickly enough.

“You look nice,” he said politely, but you saw his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, his hand going to the back of his neck as he tried not to stare.

Throughout the picnic he tried his best to keep his eyes on your face, but sometimes you would catch him stealing a glance here and there, at your legs, at your chest, at the curve of your waist. It wasn’t too particularly hot but you could see a sheen of sweat form on his neck and on his brow.

When you’d exhausted everything in the basket he started to pack up, and you wanted to ask what the rush was but taking one look at the bulge in his pants you knew. When he got you back to your place he still did his best to control himself, but you just had to bend over the kitchen counter to reach something, and his self-control snapped.

You felt his hands on your hips, his body bent over yours and his breath hot in your ear. “Baby, you’re driving me crazy,” he whispered, fingers toying with the fabric of your dress.

“What are you going to do about it?” you challenged, your body heating up from his touch. You could tell he was still trying to hold back, his hands still gentle on you as he ran them up and down your sides.

“Can I… fuck you?” he asked, his voice low, and it made your pussy clench to hear him talk like that, “right here?”

“Yes please,” you breathed, and then his hands were at the hem of your dress, lifting it up, a soft groan escaping his lips when he saw the string of your thong nestled between your ass cheeks.

“Fuck,” he whispered, palms warm on your ass as he squeezed. You whimpered softly when you felt his finger toying with the string, pulling it aside so he could finger your folds.

“Wet,” he murmured to himself, and you could hear him breathing heavily behind you as he pushed his finger inside. You moaned, your body reacting immediately to the intrusion, and the sound of it made him lose his self-control completely. You heard him unzip, and then you felt the tip of his cock, hot and hard against your pussy.

“Jae!” you screamed, lurching forward as he entered you. You gripped the sides of the kitchen counter as he lost himself, hands gripping your hips as he fucked into you.

“Baby, you feel too fucking good,” he growled, “so fucking tight.”

You knew he had it in him, the dirty talk, the way he was railing you so hard you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk right for a while. His cock felt so good, tearing you apart, so deep inside you that you could feel him in your guts. The way he moved his hips, the way his cock hit you in just the right spot every thrust, it was all sending you hurtling towards a very intense orgasm.

“Oh fuck, Jae, oh fuck,” you were losing yourself, your body on fire, “I’m gonna come!”

He groaned loudly in your ear, pulling you flush against him as your orgasm hit you, your body shuddering in his hold. He was still going though, not really giving you a moment to breathe, before he started to slam his hips into you even harder, chasing his own high.

“Baby, I’m gonna come,” he said through gritted teeth, hips slamming into you so hard the sound of skin slapping on skin echoed in the room.

“Inside me,” you breathed, and that was enough. He came with a deep grunt, his chest flush against your back, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips so hard you knew you’d have bruises there.

Afterwards, you lay in his arms, the couch the furthest you were able to go, your sundress still on. He was chuckling, tracing patterns on your arm with the tip of his finger.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, as he picked up the fabric of your dress, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Don’t ever wear this dress again, unless you want to get fucked like that every time.”

---

Thank you for 1k!

#jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun smut #nct imagines #nct smut

[1kook]

skirt chasers — drabble iv

THIS IS A SKIRT CHASERS DRABBLE - FIND THE OTHERS HERE ! SUMMARY Jungkook was a man. A skirt chaser. He could only withstand so much torture before he broke, and seeing your gorgeous, smooth legs on display after so many weeks of starvation awoke an ancient being inside of him. WARNINGS JK POV!!!, attempted solo masturbation, k*ssing, jk’s extensive knowledge of pornos, grinding, cunnilingus, face sitting, spit kink, light choking, praise kink, self nipple play, a love for boobies, unprotected sex, use of the pull out method, i love u kink, its kinda hinted tht oc has a somnophilia kink? not rlly but tagging just in case -_- RATING m (18+) WC 6.3k this can't even classified as a drabble anymore wtf 

NOTES i have had this in my drafts since may 3. it is december 21. everyone point n laugh. anyway i very much love stimbo sc jk and i think he’s very cool so here’s a whopping 6k of the inner mechanisms of his big nerdy, college hottie brain <3

He doesn’t notice you’ve drifted off until he’s three solid paragraphs into his semester-long research paper. “Babe, can you toss me my charger it’s over…” 

 Jungkook swears he’s gonna take every single one of those stupid skirts and burn them to ashes. They had done their duty well, had given him the girlfriend of his dreams, but now they were just pushing their luck. What was once the epitome of a cute and sweet girlfriend, has now become the bane of Jungkook’s existence. He loathed them, he hated them, he could go twenty million decades without ever seeing them again because the torture they inflicted upon him was borderline inhumane. 

 Holy fuck, he knew you were gorgeous— hello, he was your boyfriend, thinking you were gorgeous was very high on the list of requirements you searched for in someone of his position —but he’s absolutely positive that you’re probably the sexiest woman he’s ever seen in all his twenty-two years. And Jungkook’s seen a lot of porn. Like, a lot. 

He can’t help himself. Before Jungkook knows it, he’s rolling his desk chair over to where you’re sprawled across his bed, skin so soft where it presses against his pillow, lips so plush, and he’s pretty sure there’s a tiny, tiny droplet of drool begging to escape from between your puckered lips. Normally, he’d tease you to hell and back for this, knows how flustered you become when he catches you off guard, but today he lets it slide in favor of focusing on something else about your dozing form. 

It’s the soft curve of your hips from where you lay on your side, smooth legs tucked close to you, and that goddamn pleated skirt giving you absolutely no protection from the eyes of the world around you. Luckily, he made sure to lock the door to his room when you came over today. And he’s almost positive Taehyung isn’t home anyway. So there’s no potential roommate to see you here, cuddled against Jungkook’s teddy bear, blue lace panties tucked between your folds. 

They were his favorite. 

Adorable and soft, and he knows that particular style— the cheeky kind —is your preferred style, because it’s the one he sees almost every time the two of you fuck. Seamless, because you hate when they tug against your skin, and baby blue simply because it was your favorite color. He can’t recall the last time they had been so exposed like this. 

God, how many times had this same situation occurred? You dropping by to encourage him to do his homework, before eventually falling asleep and leaving him to his own devices. A lot of times, Jungkook guesses, because each and every time you wake up and nab one of his protein bars from the stash by his bed. Jungkook’s gone through four boxes in the last month. 

But how many times had this happened with you in a skirt? Never. This was a rarity. 

As the year progressed and yours and Jungkook’s relationship reached new levels of intimacy and adoration, Jungkook is sad to say the skirts had begun appearing less and less. It was winter and, unlike the furnace that was Jungkook’s body, he’s pretty sure you were a cold-blooded reptilian at this point, always leeching off of him for warmth. So since you couldn’t stand the cold, the skirts slowly faded into the background, replaced by Jungkook’s second favorite: the leggings. 

He was no complainer, Jungkook respected your decisions! He wasn’t going to pressure you into wearing those cute tiny skirts he loved so much just because it fueled some PornHub-esque fantasy in his brain, especially not as a harsh winter descended upon you and the days became colder. He would not risk a sick girlfriend in the name of a horndog daydream. 

But holy mother of pearl, Jungkook was a man. A skirt chaser. He could only withstand so much torture before he broke, and seeing your gorgeous, smooth legs on display after so many weeks of starvation awoke an ancient being inside of him. 

Sure he’d seen them every time you guys fucked— duh. But this was not the same. It was different, seeing the tender skin of your inner thigh when he knew you weren’t trying to, your skirt stuck between you and the bed as you shifted about. It was different, knowing he could so easily have you, just flip up the skirt and tug your underwear to the side, not having to worry about fighting your leggings or skinny jeans down your legs. It was different and it was good, so painstakingly good, to have you in the skirt, but the worst part was Jungkook couldn’t even do anything because you were fucking sleeping. 

He’d subconsciously pictured you like this for weeks, sprawled out on his sheets in the flimsiest clothing and ready for him to just slide right in, but Jungkook was a good boy—you’d told him as much just last week when he’d paid the bus fare for that ragtag group of teenagers, smiling up at him like he was your entire world. Was he sometimes a little too mean, a little too wild? Yes. But at his core, Jungkook lived for your praise. He couldn’t just stomp on that title you’d so lovingly bestowed upon him, a title he’d worked hard for since! 

Furthermore, even if Jungkook wasn’t a good boy, to touch you in your sleep just seemed wrong. You’d mentioned in passing once that you wouldn’t mind as long as it was him (“I’m yours,” you had purred at some party, hand crawling down his abdomen, “your doll, remember?”), but Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to when you were so vulnerable and just… not there. It wouldn’t feel right to use your body when you weren’t awake, and no amount of encouragement from you would change his mind. 

So he does what all good boys do and prepares himself for a quick, self-administered handfuck. 

Sue him, his girlfriend was hot!

It’d been a little over two weeks since the last time the two of you had fucked, and it was mostly his fault; clinicals and research papers had practically consumed what little free time he had in his schedule. And if Jungkook remembers correctly, he wouldn’t be that lucky this upcoming week either. Something tells him your period was approaching. 

Jungkook doesn’t know what type of sorcery you’ve done to him, but in the time you’ve been dating, it’s become increasingly more and more difficult to nut without you. Whether that be fucking you, listening to your voice, or just imagining your pretty face in his head, you held a monopoly over Jungkook’s libido, one that he feared you’d never let go. 

He had years stacked on years of browsing PornHub and Brazzers, can recall experiencing some of the craziest orgasms of his life while watching some girl get fucked. All things come to an end. Ever since he started dating you, not even his favorite video could make him hard anymore. Oh, how the great have fallen. 

But with your blue panties before him, his cock hardens by the minute, nearly doubles in size when you move about and sigh a heavenly sound. Frankly, he doesn’t feel bad jerking one off to the thought of you. You were his girlfriend! He knows that you know that you’re the main character of all his right-handed adventures, and you’re not going to be mad at him for jerking off to you now. In fact, Jungkook imagines you’d be mad if he’d woken you up just for some frenzied quickie. This way, he’s blowing off some steam and you’re getting an extra ten minutes of napping. Everyone wins. 

He’s barely tugged himself out of the confines of his sweats when a soft mumble of his name has his soul leaving his body. “Kook?” 

“Baby,” he exhales, immediately tucking himself back into his underwear before moving closer towards you. You roll onto your back, skirt useless as fuck, he thinks, as it sprawls around your waist. “What’s up?” he murmurs, voice gentle, a hand carding through the nape of your neck because that’s how you always wake him up. Jungkook would be a liar to say it wasn’t one of the best feelings in the world. 

You say something, but it’s a mess of gibberish and too quiet for him to understand, before turning on your side again and shuffling closer to him. Jungkook smiles, runs the tips of his fingers over your cheek, before moving to caress your back, massaging some feeling back into your muscles. Some more mumbled words, but this time he deciphers them as something along the lines of “c’mere.” 

He chuckles, ducking down to kiss your cheek. “Don’t wanna interrupt your nap, baby,” he hums. “Go back to sleep.” 

You whine in protest, suddenly catching his hand in yours. “Please,” you sigh, eyes fluttering open, but they’re unfocused as you gaze at him. Jungkook clenches his teeth. Technically he should be working on that twelve page research paper, and even just trying to jerk off right now would have been a huge setback. Crawling into bed with you, where you’re so sinfully laid out for him to take, would completely offset his plans until tomorrow. He had to be a responsible student here. 

“I really gotta finish my paper…” he says, trying to let you down as gently as possible, flashing you an apologetic gaze. He thinks he has it in the bag, and your extended silence almost has him rolling back to his desk, when you suddenly snap into action. 

“But what about your dick,” you murmur, and Jungkook chokes. 

“My what—?” he splutters, voice a little too high. 

You say nothing, craning your neck to release a series of cracks, soft huffs leaving your lips. Jungkook’s on edge the whole time, eyes following the movement of your neck, the hypnotizing expanse of skin that bares itself to him. “Saw your hand down your pants,” you say, eyes blinking open, and though they’re droopy with sleep, at least you can hold them open this time. 

Jungkook laughs nervously, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck in embarrassment. “You saw that?” A soft hum. He wants to die. “Ah, baby, don’t worry about it. Know you’re tired, so just nap,” he sighs, caressing the back of your head once again, and he thinks he’s finally convinced you so he lets his guard down. 

You moan softly, and he’s almost entirely sure it’s one of those waking up types of sounds, the ones you make when you’re stretching around the bed in the morning. “Want your cock.” 

Jungkook swears he’ll die, right here, right now. 

He groans, lowers his head to rest on the mattress. “Jesus, fuck, baby,” he huffs, has to count to ten to will the stirring of his slowly hardening cock away for the second time that day. “Don’t say stuff like that when you’re half asleep, please.”

You ignore him, the hand that had been wrapped around his wrist tugging him closer. You barely succeed, muscles still so weak, but Jungkook humors you and rolls his chair right beside your head, where he ducks down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Noooo,” you whine when he draws away too quickly. 

A laugh blossoms in his chest, and Jungkook proceeds to rain down a series of kisses on your pretty face before he can stop himself. You melt under his touch, his affection, and Jungkook adores the way your body is so soft and pliant like this, back arching towards him after he places a hand on your waist. 

“Come here,” you urge, voice a quiet plea. So soft, so needy. 

Jungkook malfunctions for just a second before he’s clambering over you on the bed, manhandling your body until you're both on your sides, facing each other, with you pressed tightly to his chest. Even with your hands brushing up and down his back in the way that sends every nerve in Jungkook’s body tingling, and your leg thrown over his hip, some stupid part of him convinces himself you’re just cold, trying to warm up after walking around campus in that tiny little skirt all day. He cuddles you as best as he can. 

And even with his dick twitching in his pants and his caveman instincts yelling at him to thrust up into your inviting core, Jungkook remains as professional as someone in a relationship can be when in bed with their lover. He’s so stuck on his self-control that he almost doesn’t hear the snort you muffle against his neck. 

“What are you doing?” you laugh, reaching up to pinch his cheek. Jungkook blinks, eyes wide like a doe caught in headlights. “Are we gonna fuck or what?”

He chokes. He doesn’t even try to muffle his reaction like other times, because the way you’re looking at him and the heel you press against the back of his thigh preoccupies his thoughts instead. Your hands are still tracing along his back, melting him with your dainty touches. “Baby?” you question after he’s been silent too long, distracted by the way you use that hooked leg to tug your bodies closer. 

“You… you’re still asleep,” Jungkook says, though it’s definitely a question. 

You scoff, a smile curling around your features. “Mm, definitely not asleep,” you tease, and shift to push him onto his back, wiggling on top of him until those baby blue panties are pressed against his quickly hardening member. “Why? Wanted to touch me when I was asleep?” you continue, and Jungkook’s eyes nearly burst out of their sockets. 

“No!” he exclaims, hands clutching your hips in alarm. He can tell he surprises you, because your eyes go wide for a brief second. “Never…” he mumbles afterwards, looking away from your imploring gaze. “Only like you when you’re awake.” 

You sigh, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek that makes his heart flood with adoration for you. “You’re a good boy, Jungkook,” you say back, just as quietly. “A blueprint for the perfect man.” Another kiss, this time against the corner of his mouth that makes Jungkook’s hands twitch against your sides. 

A soft moan tears itself from his throat, fingers digging into your hips as you slowly roll them against him. The heat emanating from your core seeps past the thin barrier of his sweatpants, makes his cock twitch in his boxers. He knows how it feels inside of you, has your body memorized like the back of his hand. But it’s in moments like these that he finds himself aching for you, desperate to feel the fluttering walls of your pussy, the pitiful whimpers that fall from your kiss swollen lips. And, well. The skirt makes it all too easy.  

He places two hands on the backs of your thighs, runs them up until he’s pushing your skirt up over your waist. You pull away from his lips with a sneaky little smile, pointer finger stroking down the side of his face lazily. “Mm?” you tease, leaving a coy little peck against his mouth. “Now you wanna touch?” Jungkook rolls his eyes, snaps his teeth at your wandering finger when you draw it too close to his mouth. The giggle you let out is so damn precious, makes him want to put you in a glass case and never let anyone else touch you. Coincidentally, it also makes him want to rail you into the mattress until you cry. 

“I’ll fucking ruin you, doll,” he settles on murmuring, subtly pushing you down against him. A soft giggle. Jungkook knows it’s your favorite nickname, even if you won’t admit it. He's the only one allowed to call you it, something about his intentions being pure or whatever, he’s not really sure. Anyway, you’re still so cute and soft on top of him, blinking slowly and prettily, so he’s dragging it out a bit, hoping you’ll become more alert in a few more minutes. 

As sleepy as you may be, you never miss out on a chance to rile him up. “As if, doll,” you retort, his nickname for you rolling off your tongue seamlessly. It sounds heavenly, sparks this weird emotion in him that he never considered before. Him, a doll? No way. But there’s something about the sweet lilt of your voice, the starry-eyed gaze you level him with, that has him throwing all reservations aside. Put him on a shelf and call him Barbie, because he would be anything you wanted him to be. 

Anyway, Jungkook’s sappy thoughts last all of two seconds before he’s rolling you over, successfully trapping you beneath his body. “Oh, so scary,” you feign, hands fluttering to clutch at your chest. 

He glides his hands down your body, let’s them trail over your hip and down the side of your thigh. “Don’t get sassy with me,” he warns, thumb peeking beneath the hem of your skirt. Jungkook really wants to burn the piece of fabric this time, because after all that time it spent torturing him with its halfhearted attempts at covering you, it chooses now to do it properly. 

Hands are thrown around his shoulders, the overwhelming scent of your perfume and body wash tickling his nose when you pull him in for another kiss. “Or what?” you purr, irises swirling with lust. “Gonna use your manly man strength to hold me down?” 

He shushes you with a kiss, slow and languid just how you like. Your taste is familiar, feels like coming home, so Jungkook can’t be blamed for getting too carried away. It starts gentle— it always does. But then a tiny mewl gets stuck in your throat, the following moan swallowed by his tongue, and Jungkook nearly loses it. He nips at your bottom lip, waits patiently for you to open up for him, and when you do he wastes no time diving in. Your tongue against his is slick and wet, makes the most lewd sound. Your little sharp intakes of air fill the gaps, shuddery breaths that Jungkook takes as a good sign. 

He strikes while the iron is still hot. 

It’s amidst your lazy kissing that he secures his hands around your waist, two reassuring squeezes thrown your way before he’s abruptly rolling onto his back again. “Kook!” you squeal, clutching at the front of his shirt. A pouty frown paints your face, sleepy eyes narrowing him with a rather unimpressed look, tainted with the barest hints of confusion. 

Jungkook grins, reaching back to yank his pillow out from beneath his head. “On my face,” he commands suddenly, and you snort. 

“What?” you ask a little incredulously, leaning back to level him with an even more lost expression. “Since when do we do that?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Since I decided twenty seconds ago,” he answers rather bluntly. You still don’t look too convinced. It’s not a position the two of you have ever tried. You’re a little on the sappy side, always like to look at his face while you fuck, hold his cheeks in your palms, kiss him sweetly. On the one hand, Jungkook totally gets it; he’ll proudly admit that the sight of your orgasming face paired with your fantastic tits have done him many favors these past few months. 

However, Jungkook is a lover of head. Giving or receiving, it’s very high on his list of sexual acts and whoever invented oral deserved all the praise in the world. Not only did you look drop dead gorgeous with his cock in your mouth— tears trailing down your cheeks, drool clinging to the corners of your lips —but you also looked absolutely sexy receiving it. 

Kinda. 

Probably. 

Okay, so maybe Jungkook can’t really say, considering he always has a hard time catching a glimpse of your face when he’s down there licking and slurping your clit like a madman. Which is what leads him to this exact moment, an experiment weeks in the making. Jungkook has a theory that needs to be tested. “Please ride the fuck out of my face,” he tries, hoping the polite tone will win you over. 

He’s met with an eye roll. Still, you’re kinder than you let on. “Okay,” you give in, and Jungkook will remember your heroism for the rest of his life. “But only because being on top is empowering.” He just barely contains an over-enthusiastic fist pump into the air, settling on a rather modest smile that has you leaning down to kiss him again. You reach for the zipper on the side of your skirt. “Just let me—“

“The skirt stays on,” he says quickly, hand on your wrist to stop you from removing his most favorite article of clothing. 

“Baby,” you say, giving him a rather serious look. “It’ll cover your face.”

“It won’t,” he urges, reaching for the buttons on your blouse instead. Jungkook has had one too many encounters with tops like these, and has long since learned not to tear them apart like a crazed psycho. As much as he loves the sound of your buttons scattering across his bedroom floor, he can’t say he’s too fond of the scolding he inevitably gets afterwards. Anyway, the shirt comes off and so does your bra, leaving your tits in his face, tiny skirt on your hips. “Get up here,” he murmurs, ushering you up his body until your knees are pressing into the mattress right above his shoulders. 

If it was up to Jungkook, he would have just grabbed your hips and shoved his face against your pussy. Luckily, it’s not, and your common sense shines through just in time. “One sec,” you say, and then finally, finally, the blue panties come off. 

And then it’s just Jungkook and your glistening pussy. 

“Holy fuck,” he groans, taking the opportunity to wrap his arms around your thighs. You squeak when he pulls you closer, hand instinctively reaching for the front of your skirt to hold away from his face. The view from here is heavenly, just your swollen clit, gorgeous tits, and shy face. 

The muscles in your thighs are a little stiff. Or maybe you’re just nervous. Jungkook isn’t sure, all he knows is that it takes one encouraging tug for you to finally sit on his face. He doesn’t even register the surprised gasp that leaves your throat because he’s too busy tasting your pussy from an all new position. And it’s absolutely amazing. 

Something about the position, having you carefully poised above him, does something to Jungkook. He likes to think he knows your body inside and out, knows what makes you melt and what makes you scream. He knows just how to lap at your cunt until you’re cumming, and how many fingers it takes for you to really feel it. But it’s like having you in this position changes all of that, rearranges all the tidbits of information Jungkook has spent months collecting. 

(Jungkook is a meticulous man; he’s got a near perfect GPA right now that was the direct result of his carefully crafted note-taking techniques. Whether or not he abused the power of his perfectionist learning abilities to master the mechanisms of his girlfriend’s libido was no one's business but his own.) 

One kitten lick against your swollen pearl makes you buck forward, clit brushing against his nose. Jungkook can’t remember you ever doing that on the first lick. “O- oh my—,” you cry, all airy and whiny. Your hand is pressed to the wall behind his bed, the other bunching the front of your skirt just above your mound. He’s rather happy to learn that, just as he’d hypothesized, this position does give him a better view of you. 

He’s graced with the sight of your face, twisted up in pleasure. It’s the stereotypical eyes squeezed shut, lip caught between your teeth look. But there’s something different about it knowing that he’s gotten this reaction out of you with his mouth alone. 

Jungkook quickly repositions you over him, tugging you back until his tongue is lined up with the front of your slit. You’re so warm down here, make him feel like he’s drowning with your heady scent alone. Tentatively, he lets his tongue dip between your folds, the very tip nudging your swollen clit. A moan tears itself from your throat, the hand that had been flush against the wall suddenly jumping forward to bury itself in his hair. “Oh- oh, fuck,” you shiver, hips jolting forward once more. 

You taste good on his tongue, the arousal that coats your lips is sticky and sweet. When he laps his tongue along your folds, quivering hole to stiffened bud, you let out a sob that resonates deeply within Jungkook. And also Jungkook’s cock, which stirs beneath his trousers in excitement. What was once the focus of his mission, a quick handfuck to sedate himself before finishing his research paper, has long since been forgotten. It’s for the greater good, he tells himself, blinking up at you from between your thighs. 

Eye contact lasts for exactly three seconds before you’re looking away bashfully, the fist clutching at your skirt trembling against your tummy. You’re so fucking pretty, Jungkook’s heart can’t take it. 

And so he sets out on a mission to make you cum as soon as possible, abandoning his slow kitten licks in favor of suctioning his lips around your clit. “Kook,” you wail, tugging at his hair. Whether you do it purposely or not, Jungkook is a little shocked by how good the pain feels. It’s not an emotion he can ponder long, because then you’re using that same grip in his hair to tilt his head backwards, jerkily moving over him. 

It’s rough and sudden, the buck against his face, but Jungkook loves it. The drag of your pussy against his lips, the wet glide of your juices smearing across his chin and Cupid’s bow. It all feels so good, and the fact Jungkook is getting a front row seat to the absolutely torn look on your face is just the cherry on top. 

Jungkook has seen you make a lot of faces. He’s seen you shiver and drool as he nails you into your bed. He’s seen you sniffle and sob as he slowly fucks you in a rose petal filled bubble bath (a six month anniversary special planned by yours truly). He’s even seen your mirrored reflection fall apart as you bounced away on his lap in front of a mirror. 

He’s never seen you like this before. 

Needy and desperate, moaning his name softly, practically humping his face in your greed. Tiny skirt clutched against your waist, tits bouncing as you hurriedly grind against him. He has half the mind to burn this scene into his eyelids for the rest of his life. 

He’s given up on doing anything with his tongue, simply sticking it out for you to do as you wish. Normally, he’s not a huge fan of letting you do things yourself. After all, Jungkook was your boyfriend. Making you cum was his job. But you’re moving so fast, so frantic, in your mission to cum. So Jungkook sits back and lets you go to town on his mouth as a series of moans spill from your lips. 

And then something unforgivable happens. 

Jungkook will admit it: he’s staring at you almost a little too dreamily, heart eyes and all. He thinks you’re fucking hot, taste like heaven and have these absolutely delicious boobs bouncing up and down. He’s a little distracted by your glorious figure that he doesn’t notice one crucial bit of information. 

Your hand. 

The desperate need to cum has your muscles weakening, thighs moving at a latent pace, and, much to Jungkook’s horror, hands trembling. It’s your own pleasure that lets the unimaginable happen: your skirt flutters down. Your grip on it loosens and before Jungkook knows it, the sight of your pretty face and nice tits are gone, snatched away before his very eyes. Even your wet cunt is impossible to see, his world suddenly shrouded in darkness. 

Leave it to Jungkook to foil his own horny plan with, well, his horniness. If only he wasn’t so hopelessly in love with the image of you in skirts. Maybe then he could bask in the beauty that was you riding his face. 

He acts fast, reaching for the material before he can miss out on anything. But the angle is weird, and without Jungkook’s hands holding your hips, you’re left weakly rolling forward instead. And he’s not the only one frustrated with this turn of events, your face quickly returning to its normal composed form as you level him with a frown. “Everything okay?” you pant. 

Everything was not okay, but Jungkook isn’t sure how to tell you that without ruining this delicate moment. So he tries to show you with actions instead, releasing the skirt he’s got in his fist and letting it flutter over his face again. You giggle. “I told you so.” 

It takes more willpower than he’d like to admit to pull away from your wet folds, pulling off with a lewd sound that has you biting your lip as you gaze down at him. “I told you so,” he mimics, a little mean but you don’t take it to heart. “Hold your skirt up.” 

You hum, the grip on his hair loosening as you push away his dark locks instead. “Mmmm,” you hum. “No.”

“No?” he repeats, actually really scandalized. Okay, so he’s a little spoiled when it comes to you— it’s not his fault! You made him like this, conditioned him to think that you would always give into his every whim because you were just so sweet and considerate and wanted him to be happy. And Jungkook also wants you to be happy, and in his opinion, being happy right now means having him fuck your pretty brains out for ever getting sassy with him. 

“I don’t listen to men,” you tease, followed by a cute little nod, skin still a little warm from your looming orgasm. Jungkook takes advantage of your tiny moment of weakness, and strikes like a viper.

A girlish squeal leaves your lips, hands stretching outwards as he knocks you backwards onto the mattress. “Jungkook,” you gasp, sprawled out artfully, beautifully, over his sheets now. He doesn’t waste a second longer, crawling over your body until you’re a shivering mess beneath him. 

Hand against your throat, the other blindly reaching for the front of his sweatpants. “What is it, doll?” he drawls meanly, reveling in the way your eyes roll back when his newly-freed cock lands against your slit. A choked gasp leaves your throat, lashes fluttering wildly until Jungkook loosens his grip. 

You’ve done a nice job riling yourself up, lips squelching wet and loose when he runs the tip of his cock along them. Your knees are pulled up for him, spread perfectly for him to fit between. You’re so good for him, Jungkook feels a little bad for how hard he’s going to fuck you now. 

The sympathy doesn’t last long.  

Once upon a time, you had been the epitome of a cute and sweet girlfriend. Had picked him up from class, encouraged him to do his homework, wore these cute little skirts around campus. Deep down inside, Jungkook knew everyone else was jealous of him— you were just so pretty and cute, a girl straight out of everyone’s dreams. 

Until he sunk his horny claws into you. Jungkook will be the first to admit he spends a little too much time browsing porn sites— he’s a man, cut him some slack —which had never caused him any problems before. Even when the two of you were just friends (pining ones at that), you had never seemed even remotely affected by his extensive pornographical knowledge. It was a known fact among your friend group that Jungkook’s best friend was his right hand. 

But then, of course, you started dating Jungkook and it was like a save file of all his horniest fantasies was downloaded directly into your brain. Which leads him to this. 

“Spit in my mouth,” you shiver, got these huge, watery eyes pointed his way. His cock twitches. 

There’s a little groan that tears itself from his throat when he leans forward, cock sliding along your folds, to grasp your chin between his fingers. “Open,” he commands, and you do. Your lower lip quivers, tongue pressed against it as you wait for Jungkook to spit down your mouth. He can’t say he regrets letting you peek through his porn stash, not when it leads to this, you whimpering at the hot glob of saliva he shoots down your throat. “Filthy,” he pants, memorizing the movement of your throat when you swallow like the good girl you are. 

Before he can write another twelve sonnets about that dazed look on your face, he’s roughly grabbing at your thigh. You whine, limbs so pliant beneath his touch, letting him hike your knee over his forearm as he tugs you closer. “Fuck,” he groans, reaching down to align himself with your quivering hole. You’re still so wet, make the most lewd sound when he sinks into you. Not that Jungkook really hears it, the sound of your strained moans practically drowning everything else out. 

“Fuck,” you cry, one hand clutching at his forearm, the other toying with your breast. It’s a magnificent sight, and Jungkook is suddenly feeling a little cocky when he realizes he’s the only one who gets to see this. It’s this presumptuous nature that fuels the first round of thrusts into your cunt, fast and full. He makes sure you feel every inch of him, tip to base, as he pistons his hips forward. “J— Jungkook,” you pant, back arching beneath him. 

You take it so well, walls sucking him in every time he draws back out. “I’ve got you, doll,” he moans, hiking your leg further over his shoulder. Every roll of his hips has your tits bouncing back and forth, lower lip as well with the dopey, open-mouthed look you got on for him. And the damned skirt that got him here, fucking you with a punishing pace, sits perfectly around your waist. He has half the mind to take it off for you, briefly wonders if it hurts, but just looking at it reminds him of about thirty-seven pornos he’s seen. So it stays on, works alongside your lovestruck face to actively rewrite all those pornos anew with you starring in them instead. 

It sure helps when you start your usual mindless babbling. “I love you,” you gasp, face screwed up in pleasure. “I- I love you so much.” 

He’s contemplating doing a study on you and your weird mid-fuck confessions. You do this a lot, and while Jungkook doesn’t mind, it sure does leave him curious. “Love you too, baby,” he says anyway, repositioning his arms so he can hold your waist with both hands. 

“Really?” you ask, voice so whiny, eyes brimming with tears. From emotion or your need to cum, Jungkooks not sure. (Hence the need for a study!) 

Another brutal thrust that has you moaning loudly. “Really,” he reassures you, glancing down to watch his cock sink into your hole as he picks up the pace. Your arms are practically limbless, and his stomach is beginning to feel tight. The end was soon. “Love your pretty little face.”

Another whine, your fingers pulling at your pebbled nipples. “M- My pretty face?” you whimper, blink these long lashes up at him. They make Jungkook go a little mad, bring on a wave of jackhammer thrusts that cut your moans into choppy little cries instead. 

“Prettiest girl I know,” he groans, not once stopping the movement of his hips. You’re quivering like a leaf beneath him, your entire body locking up as Jungkook guides you toward orgasm. “A fucking doll, baby— so beautiful for me,” he praises. 

It’s exactly what you want to hear— secretly, Jungkook hypothesizes that you’re a little bit of an attention whore —crying out when he slows to a grind against you. Each roll of his hips has him rubbing over your swollen bud, leaves you trembling until you’re eventually unraveling beneath him. “Oh- Oh, fuck— Jungkook—“ you sob, writhing beneath him as you cream his cock. 

Your tits look amazing, nipples stiff from your arousal and all the attention you’d been giving them. Your features soften, gasps framed by your pillowy lips. As Jungkook has said before, your pretty face was the most dangerous weapon. 

He manages a few more pistons of his hips, mostly for reputation sake, before he’s eventually pulling out. His right hand, once the sole hero of his solo sessions, makes a valiant return now as he jacks himself off over you. It takes a few harsh pulls of his cock until he’s spurting his jizz over you, painting your tummy and your tits in white ribbons of cum. You flinch, a tiny whimper leaving your throat at the mess he makes. “Fuck,” he groans one last time. 

When it’s over, you have the audacity to shyly pull down the front of your skirt. As if your tits aren’t out and about, but Jungkook pretends he doesn’t see it. Instead, he channels his energy into peppering your face in kisses. “Best girl,” he praises, even though he knows you hate the nickname. “My beautiful feminist queen.” 

A pinch against his cheek. It hurts like hell, but he endures it for now, still very much in love with your performance today. “Get me a towel,” you huffily ask, uncomfortable with the jizz sticking to your tummy, as if he didn’t spit in your mouth a few minutes ago. 

His research paper is waiting for him at his desk, the materials he’d spent weeks collecting waiting to be typed up. But his girlfriend is so soft and sleepy, asking him to stay for another nap. 

There was never a choice.

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

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[imaslutforremusandsirius]

Daddys pretty slut

Remus just hits different amirite girls and boys and gays and theys

We love us an unbothered Daddy Remus

Warning: 18+, very smutty

Have fun!

“I’m sick of your tantrums, get over here.” Remus grits out. 

You were bored and decided to touch yourself a bit, whilst the boys were out, doing Merlin knows what. And just as you were about to cum, Remus came burstig through the door.

“Thought I wouldn’t know, hm? You’re really smart, pretty, not even bothering to hide your scent from your werewolf boyfriend.” He is mocking you and frankly you deserve it.

You wanted to slap yourself. Remus had told you so many times just how easy it was for him to distinguish not only your scent in a large crowd, but determine your emotions as well. And right now, you are soaked and needy. 

Your voice came out meek when you tried to beg for forgiveness. “Daddy I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to!”

Remus closed and charmed the door, walking over to you in heavy strides. “You should be thankful I didn’t tell the boys what is going on or this conversation would be very different. You know how they get.”

That did something to you. Sirius would have bend you over already, calling you every possible name in the book. James would probably fuck your face so hard you’d have trouble talking afterwards. They would give you the exact opposite of what you crave.

But Remus approached these situations differently, because he gave you precisely what you want and more. You want to cum? He’ll give you ten more. You want his cock in your mouth? He’ll have you suck for hours on end. You wanted him to stop? He wouldn’t touch you for days, until you were delirious with desperation. You have to be very careful what you wish for, but it actually doesn’t matter, because you lose either way.

Remus took off James’ burrowed flannel, looking at you with a thoughtful expression. You could see the clogs in his head turning and he sat down on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard. 

He sighes, as if bored and you’d really think he was, if you wouldn’t have seen the slight glint of spitefullness in his eyes. He wants, no needs to punish you. He is livid, anger nearly boiling over, but he didn‘t let it show. He knows how antsy you get when he slips into the role of the calm dom.

You felt vulnerable sitting with your naked body against his fully clothed chest, tucking your head under his chin. 

“I thought we fucked the bratiness out of you already. How long has it been since we touched you? Seven hours and you’re already leaking like a pathetic whore?”

You whine quietly as his fingers harshly brush through your cunt, pinching your clit. “M’sorry Daddy.”

He kisses the back of your head, two fingers pushing inside, thumb against your clit. “You will be.”

Remus spreads his legs, automatically opens yours as well and wraps one arm tightly under your breast. His right hand keeps fucking you in a lazy rhythm, taking his time. He might not tell you that for the sake of scaring you, but this was his way of making sure that you were warmed up, ready to take whatever he gave.

You are panting already, pushing back. His long, thick fingers feel so full inside of your soaking pussy, rough pad of his thumb rubbing deliciously against your clit in soft strokes.

„M‘gonna give you so many cummies, baby, that you won‘t want to cum for a week,“ he spoke, lips brushing against the side of your temple. You knew better than to answer, and tried to kiss him but he pulled back.

„No, you don‘t get kisses. Sluts don‘t kiss their Daddys on the lips. Eyes on my hands, slut.“

You turn your head again, tearing up slightly of being denied your kiss.

„Daddy please, wanna kiss you so bad“, you whine, pussy clenching when he picked up his pace.

„Kiss my cock later, you don‘t get to have my lips. You don‘t fucking deserve it, slut. Why are you crying, hm? Ohh, you gonna cum aren‘t you. Fucking slut, you like this? Want Daddy to treat you like a fucking whore?“

„Yes! Yesyesyes m‘your whore, please wanna cum!“, you mewl, eyes rolling back.

„Daddydaddy m‘gonna cum, ple- ah fuckk“, Remus hand is fucking you so fast your chest is heaving with the effort to take the pleasure.

„Head back, open your mouth“, he commands. You comply instantly, letting him spit in your mouth, sucking bruises on your jaw.

Seeing him treating you so carelessly, spitting on your face and fucking you while he sat there, completely unbothered and calm, did it for you and you came hard. Your screams muffled by his hand on your mouth, his hand so big it covers your entire jaw.

„Pathetic whore, keep your voice down. S‘not not like anybody will come to help you out. Should be grateful that I‘m being so merciful.“

He kept fucking you for what felt like hours, and your already reached your sixth orgasm of the night.

„C‘mon babygirl, one more for your Daddy? One more for me baby, please?“, he cooed at you, lips smearing gently against your sweaty brow.

„Hurts, Daddy, don‘t wanna“, you babbled, so fucking tired. „Everything hurts Daddy.“

„Mm poor baby...How convenient that I don‘t give a fuck what you want, hm? You give me one more and I won‘t tell the boys anything.“

„Yes Daddy, everything for you. You forgive me Daddy right? Not mad anymore?“

Remus pushed his fingers back inside, gliding in easily, not giving you an answer.

„Daddy please, don‘t be mad, m‘your good girl. Fuck Da-“

He chuckles darkly, speeding up and curles his fingers harshly. Leaning down he bites your shoulder hard, squeezing you in his arms as you cry out, cumming on his fingers for the seventh time.

You are slipping in and out of subspace, babbling nonsense, nosing at his soft neck, stubble scratching your flushes cheeks.

„Hi Daddyyy“, you giggle between kisses, „Gonna fuck me now?“

„ Hi baby“, Remus croons, pressing his lips on yours, muttering against your lips. „M‘not Daddy anymore, baby. I forgive you, come back f‘me hm?“

His tone soft as he cuddles you, kissing all over your face, taking your shirt to clean up the mess you made with your cum.

„Ow, hurts, Daddy, Remus“, you tried to close your legs, but he spread them again, overpowering you without trying.

„Shh, be good, gotta clean you up before the boys get back.“

Finally letting go he let you pass out, tidying the room, before he slid in next to you, falling asleep just as fast.

He‘ll let this be your dirty little secret for now. You were his baby first anyway.

#remus lupin smut #remus lupin #remus smut #remus x reader #remus x you #marauders smut #hp marauders