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springwitch26 · 6 months

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Hey you're writing is so beautiful and *cough cough* incredibly hot, would you be down to write a Melissa brat tamer oneshot 😅

No pressure ofc!

-anon

tear you apart (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

summary: you're feeling bratty and melissa is all too happy to punish you.

warnings: smut (18+), brat taming, punishment, degradation, spanking, humiliation, overstim, voyeurism? basically unhinged content + agatha harkness obsession disease 💜

notes: thank you anon for your kind words and this request! hope this is worth the wait. melissa is such a brat tamer and i'm reminded of that every time she makes a biting comment or threatens to fight someone. she needs a girl who can take it and then give it right back.

all you ever wanted was to make melissa feel good.

you knew from the start of your relationship that she was a top. but at first, you weren't sure what she liked: did she want you to be her good girl? or did she enjoy a challenge?

within a few weeks, you had pieced together the answer: it depended on the day. on bad days, all she wanted was her sweet, obedient angel.

one night she came home deflated, having fought with barbara over a teacher appreciation gift from the district. she pulled you into her and didn't let go, holding you close through hours of gentle sex. you were so soft, so comforting, so good.

"come sit on my lap, babydoll," she had said, patting her legs where she sat on the sofa. you obliged.

"are you okay?" you asked, searching her eyes for frustration and regret.

"i am now," she whispered as she caressed up your thighs, smiling as you nuzzled into her neck to hide your whimper. "just do what i say 'n make your pretty noises, and i'll be just fine."

good days were a different story. competition and conflict excited melissa. she felt most like herself when she was telling somebody off or winning some game. so, when things were quiet at work or when she was feeling playful, you were more than happy to give her the challenge she craved. your attitude drove her insane, and putting you in your place was always exhilarating.

tonight was a good night. you could tell from the moment she walked in the door, carrying that massive read-a-thon belt. she was on top of the world after her victory, and now she needed another conquest.

you twirled around the kitchen as you cooked dinner in your thin sleep shirt and little shorts. melissa loved seeing you like this: comfy, happy, and best of all, lightly clothed.

you smirked to yourself as you hatched a plan. instead of greeting her like usual, you pretended not to see her come in. then you held up your phone and took a selfie that just happened to provide a view down your shirt. melissa saw it all.

"whatcha doin', hon?" melissa raised an eyebrow at you, still smiling from a great day at work.

"oh, nothing. just texting ava," you replied coyly. melissa's jaw clenched ever so subtly.

you had been friends with ava since back when you were still working at abbott. melissa wasn't jealous of your friendship with ava. no, what irritated her was how shamelessly ava would check you out and hit on you. ava's advances were never serious, she knew that. but melissa also knew that ava hit on you at least as much as she did gregory, and that was a problem in her book.

you smiled at her and went back to your cooking like it was nothing. you were in for a fight tonight.

...

when you sat down in the living room to binge-watch wandavision after dinner, melissa attempted to stroke up your thighs several times. you refused her and innocently cuddled into her side.

all was going according to plan until you heard agatha say "good girl" on the television. you shuddered and pressed your legs together, and it did not go unnoticed by melissa.

"aw, hon. does that make you feel needy?"

she had the upper hand. but you could still salvage this.

"yes, agatha drives me crazy," you said, meeting her gaze and giving her a sultry smug look.

"i thought you liked wanda..." she grumbled, her jaw clenched. it was working.

"mmm no, agatha is more my type," you drawled. you remembered melissa dressed as the scarlet witch. that sinfully sexy costume. she had done it for you.

the fact that you were switching up on her now made her livid. your type? she wasn't your type?

"god, kathryn hahn..." you whispered when the camera focused in on agatha's magical fingers, absolutely selling that you were turned on. it pushed melissa over the edge.

in one swift move, she shut the tv off and crawled on top of you, pushing you into the couch by your sternum. the look in her eyes was dark, fiery, dangerous.

"take your clothes off," melissa growled, fire bubbling behind her eyes.

she pulled herself off of you and sat looking you over from the other end of the couch, an expectant look on her face.

"yes, ma'am," you scrambled to comply with her instructions, stripping eagerly in front of her.

"leave the panties on," melissa stopped you before you could drag your thong down your legs. "on the bed."

the two of you rushed up the stairs and over to the bedroom, her grabbing at your waist the entire time. melissa sat back against the pillows, her legs spread for you. she gestured between her legs and you knew what she wanted.

you squealed and quickly adjusted yourself to straddle her, your legs on either side of hers as you unbuttoned her shirt. she sat upright against the pillows, her messy hair framing her heated face.

once you had removed her shirt and bra, she fisted her hands in your hair and pushed your head downward. you quietly whimpered at the manhandling. she took the initiative to swiftly pull her pants and panties down to her ankles, giving you just one firm command: "be a good girl."

you parted her legs gently and dove in, licking wide stripes up her folds but avoiding her clit to tease her. it wasn't long before you felt a fist in your hair, pulling you off of her to meet her frustrated gaze.

"unless you want red handprints all over your ass, don't fuckin' tease," she sneered.

you were torn: you wanted that punishment, but you also wanted to be a good girl for her. you chose to be good for now, attaching your lips to her clit and making her groan in satisfaction. you could always push her buttons later.

"that's it, honey, right there," she choked out as you swirled your tongue around her clit. she wouldn't last long, already worked up from seeing you strip for her.

you lapped at her and sucked on her bundle of nerves, enjoying the chorus of good girl and don't stop until you felt her legs start to tremble around you. at that point, you pulled back, leaving her bucking up into nothing.

you gave her a mischievous grin and started to trace your lips with your thumb absentmindedly. you watched her seethe in anger, never taking her eyes off of you.

"oh, sorry, i think i smudged my lipstick. give me a second," you could hardly contain your giddiness at how angry she looked. you needed her to lose control.

without missing a beat, she grabbed your hair and forcefully pushed you back between her legs. all of her gentleness was gone.

"such a dumb fucking slut. can't even follow simple instructions," she scolded. "finish me off, whore, and then we'll work on your behavior."

you felt yourself get soaked again at the manhandling, her seething words and her promise to punish you. eager to make up for your misbehavior, you ate her out with reckless abandon. she reached her high within minutes, whispering filthy things to you the whole time.

"fuck, that's good. lookin' up at me like that with your big doe eyes. i'm gonna come all over that pretty, smart mouth."

she came with a low groan, coating your lips in her wetness. the sight was pornographic: you looked at her with hooded eyes and wet lips, slightly fearful of her next move. it was exhilarating.

when she had recovered, she sat up and stared you down, a twisted smirk on her face. you swore you knew what she would say before the words left her mouth.

"bend over my lap, beautiful." her tone was dark, but you could hear the excitement behind her words.

you scrambled to obey, laying face-down on her lap with your ass up, wiggling gently in front of her. enticing her.

for a minute, there was silence. she just watched in amusement as you squirmed in her lap, desperate for any kind of attention from her. from where she sat, she could see your arousal glistening on your thighs. she was drunk on the power.

"a little desperate, hmmm?" she teased. you nodded frantically. she started to trace light patterns on your ass with her fingernail. "let me tell you what's gonna happen now. i'm gonna spank your cute little ass until you're crying and begging me to stop. then, i'm gonna fuck you until you're so sensitive that you can't stand to be touched any more. sound good?"

while she was nonchalant, you were almost at your breaking point from her words alone. you were completely at her mercy. you managed a "yes" and nodded intently for her to continue with her plan, desperate to see it through to the end.

it was hardly a second later when she slapped your ass, hard. you should have seen it coming, but you still yelped in surprise. you felt throbbing between your legs as the pain spread through you.

this went on for a while, and eventually you lost count of how many times she'd hit your backside. tears rolled down your cheeks, and you hardly felt them. and you were soaking her lap with your arousal. melissa whispered filthy things to you the entire time.

"my pretty, little, brat," she emphasized each word with a harder slap.

when it finally stopped, she started to caress you all over and praise you for taking your punishment so well. her soft touch brought you back to reality, and she guided you to sit up.

"wow, sweetheart. you really made a mess," melissa said, gesturing to her legs which were sticky with your wetness. you hid your face in your hands.

"stop it, you know i wanna see you. in fact..." she trailed off with a smirk and reached to grab her phone off the nightstand. "touch yourself."

your mouth fell open at the command, and she gave you a challenging look. not wanting to push her any farther tonight, you did as she asked and tried to find a comfortable position.

"spread 'em wide, princess," she said, smiling down at her phone like she wasn't watching your every move.

a burning heat ran through you at her words. you leaned back and started to gently circle your clit through your panties, anxiously awaiting her next move. you were a whimpering, blushing mess when she finally looked up at you with a grin.

"stay just like that," she said while bringing her phone up to point it at you. you heard the clicking noise of the iphone camera and your eyes widened. melissa had never done anything like this before.

"w-what are you doing?" you barely managed the sentence as your fingers worked you up, making you gasp.

"oh, just givin' myself a little treat for later," she replied coyly. "and maybe next time you act up, i'll show ya these. make ya remember your place."

you shifted uncomfortably, feeling hot all over from your fingers and the humiliation. melissa noticed and put her phone aside to look in your eyes.

"color?" she whispered.

"pink..." you replied shyly. that meant she could keep going. she smiled and cupped your face in her hands, kissing you softly.

her hand traveled down to remove yours from between your legs. she finally laid you down on the bed, running her hands up your thighs. your legs fell open for her and she leaned in to inspect your swollen folds.

she hummed as she trailed two fingers through your wetness, earning her a pitiful noise. when she pulled away and mosied over to the dresser drawer, you knew what she was going to do.

"i think you're wet enough for the strap, don't you?" she pulled out a bright red one that you had never seen before. she watched your eyes as you reacted to its size.

"i bought this as a surprise for you knowin' you'd go crazy over it," she mused as she adjusted the harness and attached the dildo to it.

"mel, it's... big," you said, looking up at her with wide eyes as she positioned herself above you.

"yeah, hon, that's why i bought it," she teased, smirking as if it was the most obvious reply in the world. you breathed a sigh of relief as she covered the strap in a thick layer of lube.

she took the cock in one hand and maneuvered it through your folds, pressing on your clit and making you cry out. you shuddered when she positioned it at your entrance.

"you ready for me?" melissa trailed a finger under your chin and forced you to meet her eyes.

"pink," you breathed, and she pushed the tip in. you felt the stretch immediately, and melissa used her free hand to rub your abdomen soothingly.

she continued to work her way into you, her hand never stopping its comforting motions. when she bottomed out, you felt so full you could hardly breathe. it was a thrill.

you nodded at her to signal she could move, and she started to fuck you slow and hard. the size of the strap-on allowed her to hit places that you'd never felt before, and you couldn't hold back your moans.

her thrusts became rougher very quickly, and she dug her thumbs into your hips to balance herself. you knew there would be marks there tomorrow. her pace and the low groans she let out suggested that she was still hanging on to some frustration in need of release.

she hit your g-spot and you screamed, overwhelmed with the feeling of her. she noticed the telltale signs of your orgasm approaching: shaking legs, parted lips, strangled moans. in response, melissa reached down to rub your bundle of nerves roughly, and that sent you over the edge.

"good girl, so good," she coaxed you through your high. you thought she would stop after one. oh how naive you were. you were trembling and squirming away from her, and she just continued to rub your clit, rocking gently inside you.

"come on, honey, give me another, i know you can," she encouraged you, peppering you with sweet kisses. you nodded and she started to fuck you again in earnest.

every nerve ending in your body was buzzing, and all you could feel was melissa. she thrusted into you like her life depended on it, and you admired her face as she worked you. her red hair hung around her face, which had also become red from the exertion. it felt amazing—hell, it felt insane—to feel her hitting all the most sensitive spots inside you. but it felt even more amazing to have the sexiest woman on the planet on top of you, working your body like it was her life's mission.

when your second orgasm washed over you, it was more intense than the first. it drained all the power from your body and you surrendered yourself to your fiery lover. she again whispered sweet nothings in your ear to help you along. when you had stopped shuddering, she pulled out.

you caught your breath and watched her rise to her feet, humming as she took off the strap. you could see a devious glint in her expression that told you you weren't done quite yet.

after that small taste of relief, melissa stalked over to you and spread your legs once more. you whined in discomfort, too sensitive to take any more.

"shhhh, baby, lemme clean you," she soothed before beginning to lap at you, savoring your taste. she tried to avoid your clit but her nose brushed against it, bringing a pained noise from you. she hummed into you and kept going, stroking your legs to relax you.

after you had gotten comfortable with the feeling of her tongue she drifted up to your clit, circling it but avoiding direct contact. you gasped and bucked up into her mouth despite your best efforts. even the smallest touch felt like an electric shock.

when your whines turned to quiet moans, melissa wrapped her mouth around your clit and started to suck, rolling her tongue over it. the pressure was white-hot and deadly, and it sent you over the edge in seconds.

"my sweet angel, i love you, you did so well for me..." she comforted you through the comedown. she stroked your sides and you relaxed into her touch, your heartbeat finally slowing. she placed a fond kiss on your forehead, then got up to get a washcloth and some water for you.

...

"i won the read-a-thon today..." she said while she cleaned you.

"i noticed," you giggled, smiling up at her. the love in her eyes made the green irises sparkle and swim with possibility. "i'm so proud of you."

"you coulda said that earlier!" she joked, recalling your misbehavior. there was a comfortable silence before she spoke again. "actually, i think i like it when you fight me a little."

you gazed at her fondly and laughed again, feeling warm and cared for. "i noticed."

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti/reader #melissa schemmenti x y/n #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary fanfic #wlw fanfic #smut #melissa schemmenti smut

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konigsblog · 6 months

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omg I loved idea of kidnapper!konig w the shy and sheltered reader it has me floored tbh🫨😮‍💨 presenting you my brain rot the way a proud cat delivers a leaf on your doorstep as a token of gratitude

thinking about how he noticed her at her work or something bc she was so helpful but a little reserved, afraid of him even. Probably bc she isn’t used to seeing 6”10 behemoth military men every day. Konig is smitten w the way she shies away from his intense eye contact, the way she flushes painfully all over her face and neck and stutters as he tries to make conversation. He is enamored, because despite being taken aback by him she still is so obedient and proper in the way she addressed him, going out her her way to make sure he has everything he needs. He wonders in how many other ways she would be so willing to serve him. He knows that she would make the perfect housewife, one worth it to being kept in a gilded cage. a beautiful girl such as herself, oblivious to the dangers of the real world needs protection, someone strong to keep her safe from all the bad men who would no doubt gladly take advantage of her. Konig makes a vow that day to be her protector. at first, the only thing she does is cry and try to get away from him after she wakes up and finds herself chained in his dark basement. She refuses to believe this is her new reality, that’s she’s held captive in the dungeon of the soldier with the icy blue eyes she met at work. She wonders what her mistake was, because she only tried to be nice and friendly despite feeling a deep sense of dread in the pit of her stomach the minute she had laid eyes on the masked giant. If only she had listened to her gut…

no matter how much she beg and pleads, the giant doesn’t budge. He patiently waits for her panic to subside as he takes her in his arms, shushes her and gently wipes and kisses away her tears. He makes her skin crawl, but no matter what she does, she can’t escape the iron grip of his enormous arms snaked around her waist, holding her against his chest as he rocks her back and forth. He is so sweet and gentle, so patient and understanding. He lulls her to sleep in his arms, speaking soft and soothing words in her ear. Soon, she’ll get used to her new home. To her new place beside him, as his. His to love, his to cherish and protect. He promises the chains will come off her ankles and wrists once she behaves and stops trying to get away. But until then, she’s bound to sleep on the old mattress in the cold basement. Of course he isn’t heartless. He comes down once a day to feed her, always making sure its her favorite foods and snacks she gets but on one condition: she has to let him feed her, take the bites and spoonfuls from his hand. He coos at how much of a good girl she is being for him, his praises tinting her ears all pink. And he allows her to bathe, he has all of her favorite oils and gels and products. But once again, for a price. She has to allow him to bathe her. At first she tries to edge away from his hands on her, large and brute palms lathering her soft skin with soap, thoroughly rubbing her all over. She’s never been naked in front of someone else, let alone touched in such a way. But she relaxes once he applies enough pressure on her aching joints, massaging the soreness away. When she finally relaxes and leans her head back against the bathtub, she feels his calloused fingers edge down to her core, teasing her folds. She flinches and opens her eyes, looking up at him, startled and caught like a deer in the headlights.

“have you ever been touched down here, meine hirsch?”

his voice is ever so soft and inviting. She shakes her head, caught in his gaze as her chest falls and rises, her nipples hardening from the cold as her soapy breasts peak up from underneath the bubbles. His fingers find something small, something hidden between her folds and she yelps when he starts rubbing slow and small circles on it. He is delighted to have his suspicions confirmed, his engel is untouched. A virgin.

“you’ve been so good for me today. So obedient. You’re learning so fast, meine hirsch. I think you’ve earned another reward. How about I spoil you some more?”

NON-CON/RAPE

könig is so ecstatic to realise that his little engel is a sweet, inexperienced virign. so he can be your first, the one to corrupt you. you're just so sheltered, so scared and teary-eyed when his hands dip further and further until they reach area's you wish they wouldn't have.

his semi-hard cock only hardens more at the sight of you; bare and wet in a tub of warm water, weak and vulnerable against him. god, the thoughts and fantasies of taking you now – even if you didn't want it – were driving him crazy, almost delusional as his eyes widen and the sides of his mouth curl up into a eerie smile. his morals almost forgotten about when he saw you shudder.

“oh-hah, my sweet thing... are you a virgin?” he lauaghs out at the question, almost taken about, excited and shocked.

he chuckles lowly when you nod, rubbing your clit in soothing circles whilst kissing your cheek. you whimper, whining at the newfound attention to your clit. you can only grip the sides of the bathtub, cornered in and useless against your kidnapper.

“please–stop!” a hearty chuckle leaves könig at your sight of misery, your fear. the tortue he's inflicting apon you and your poor, virgin body.

“you have nothing to be afraid of, my dear...” despite his promises, you could see past his smirk, knowing exactly what he had in store for you.

könig bundled you up into the towel, holding you in bridal style before placing you down at the edge of the bed. he threw the towel open from your body so that you were laying against it. the rough texture against your soft skin while he swirls his throbbing dick around your tight entrance. you whimper, squirming and shaking at the pleasure before he eases inside mercilessly. your nerves through the roof.

he doesn't care. not about your pleasure, but about the tightness of your pussy around his big dick. he's just so hard, so, so fucking hard as he pushes deep inside, pressing against your womb as he repeatedly begins thrusting into you. you cry out, thrashing beneath him to no avail as his grip on your hips only tightens, pushing you down against the bed :(

“stop-please, i don't want it!!” you whimper out, fearful and trembling, pussy throbbing and pulsing uncontrollably around him, only driving him more insane, giving him more power and control as he uses the way your body reacts against you. your pussy can't seem to stop drooling, what's the issue? he's just making sure his princess is treated right.

“look at you, you can't even deny that you're enjoying this.” he huffs out when he feels your folds wrap and tighten around his fat cock, continuously driving his huge cock into your virgin pussy relentlessly. no pity or mercy, and sure as hell no sympathy as you continue squirming despite being asked repetitively to stay still for him. so he can use you, just how he thinks you like.

you don't want this, none of it. but when he pinches your hardened, swollen nipples while bullying his thick and veiny dick into your weeping, raw cunt, you can't help but moan and pant, arousal dropping from your sex as he grinds against you.

“...no-no more...” you pant breathlessly. so sore, aching and bruised. his rough pace doesn't stop, not even for a second. slapping your face harshly as you grew more dumb and dizzy from his cock. he didn't want you to miss a second of this.

“don't pass out on me, engel, i won't stop even if you're unconscious...” you sob out at his words, choked and silenced when he wraps his large and calloused hand around your throat, making you babble out at the burning, rupturing sensation in your core.

so, so callous and careless as he leaves you whimpering and sensitive.

#orla speaks #tw: noncon #konig x reader #konig smut #cod konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #könig #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig x reader #könig mw2

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elliesblkgirlfriend · 5 months

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Abby with A Black girlfriend headcannons

-Girlfriend Abby who has patchwork Tattoos. She loves to play with the ends of your braids while you trace the ones she has on her arms and legs

-Girlfriend Abby who knows how to cook her ass off. You taught her how to make soul food one time and came home to her flipping some chicken and making collards greens

-She definitely helps you take down your hair. You sit in between her legs and let her do all the work.

“Come on baby girl, time you take your hair down”

-She’s definitely takes care of your hair as if it’s your own. She makes sure too extra gentle

-She always goes to the beauty supply store for you. Knows what brand of braiding hair to get, what color, how many packs( always gets an extra pack just in case)

-If you like to dye your hair she will definitely help you. Gloves and all

“Abigail you better know what you’re doing, you make me bald I’m kicking your ass!”

“Girl shut up and bend your head down”

-doesn’t mind Paying for your hair . Will pay with no problemKnotless braids? Done. Butterfly locs? Paid. A wig install? Paid and laid.

-Definitely drags and slanders racist and ignorant and people with no problem. Will drag them in comments and will drags them in person. Does not care.

-She had what kind of Hair care products you use mesmerized. When she goes on a short target run and she sees the hair oil you use. She definitely buys four…or more bottles.

-She’ll purposely leave her own shampoos and hair products at home just so she can use yours because she likes the way they smell

“Abby stop using my shit! It’s only a little bit left!”

“Sorry, I forgot mine at home” she says with a smile

“Liar. Did it on purpose” you mumble rolling your eyes

-Always helps with your hair. ALWAYS! You can’t tell her no because when you do her fingers always end up in your hair anyway

-Abby can braid girl! Abby you know how to braid babygirl!!

-You both have a matching scarf and bonnet. Abby’s wears hers with no problem.

-Girlfriend!Abby who likes to get matching nail art with you. Thinks it’s cute

-Her instagram is filled with pictures of you two together or just you by yourself.

-definitely keeps a Polaroid picture of you in her wallet. Definitely pulls out her wallet and looks at it when she’s having a bad day. The sight of you clams her down

-She’s not really into PDA. The most she’ll do in public is hold your hand, but in private she’s all over you. If she could she’d jump into your skin.

-She’s a neat freak and when you refuse to clean up your room she’s cleaning it for you.

“It’s just a few clothes” you say shrugging as you lay on your bed

“A few clothes are gonna turn into a few dozen knowing you” she mumbles throwing your clothes into a hamper

-Your family loves her. Adores her. She becomes your moms taste tester

“Abby! Come in here and taste this potato salad!” You mom screams from the kitchen and Abby goes running

-This girl will fuck UP some peach cobbler and sweet potato pie. She don’t give a fuckkk!

“Baby, put me some peach cobbler on a plate” she asks in a whisper so your family doesn’t hear and think she’s greedy

“Abby that’s like…your third plate of peach cobbler…”

“I didn’t ask…please go get me some more…please”

#abby the last of us #abby tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #tlou2 #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby x black reader #abby x you #tlou2 abby #abby headcanons #abby anderson fic

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cevansbrat0007 · 1 year

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I'm obsessed with this series. I'm such a sucker for love that's given often and shown so freely. Andy and Reader are each other's world. I feel like they're the type of (one day) elderly couple who if one passes, the other is following right behind in a few days to months.

I can't wait to one day read a little drabble about them when they're old and retired, maybe having their kids and grandkids over for christmas and their kids' POV watching Andy and Reader sway and canoodle under a mistletoe.

At Last...

Summary: True love stories never end...

Warning: the following answer contains talk of death as well as celebrations of love and life. Read at your own risk. Takes place in my ongoing Growing Pains Series. __

Thank you. It makes me so happy that you've fallen in love with Growing Pains as well as Andy and Reader's love story. Those two are so incredibly and irrevocably devoted to one another - they really are each other's entire world.

If I'm being honest, I have thought about what the end of their time on this planet would look like. And Baby Girl always outlives Andy. Not just because she's a few years younger than him, but because there is just no other way.

He could never live without her. Not even for a month, or a couple of days. So, when the time comes and life finds him on his deathbed, they make a plan.

They're both such stubborn people, you know? So damned headstrong even up until the very end. Andrew Barber doesn't want to go.

Not yet.

But while his spirit remains young, his body is old. After all, fighting your way into your nineties is no easy feat. But he's also got four children right here in this realm to take care of, and an errant wife to look after who is just as much of a brat as she's always been.

And the doctors, well, they don't understand how he's made it so long. From everything indicated on his chart, he should've left this world days ago. But somehow Andrew Barber continues to defy the odds.

That stubborn ass ogre.

But he's also in pain. Even as he's fighting, refusing to give in. However, it's not sustainable. And Reader knows that her Big Man needs to rest. She spends every day by his bedside, rarely leaving for more than a few minutes at a time. It's been a few days since she's been able to catch a glimpse of his beautiful blue eyes, every once in a while, she's treated to a gentle squeeze of her hand.

Baby Girl knows her husband better than any other person on the planet. She knows that in order to leave her behind, even for just a little bit, she has to give him a purpose. So she crawls into bed with him, bad hip and all, and tells him her plan.

It's just between them - this task that she gives him.

She tells him to go on ahead and get their home ready - their dream home. And start decorating it the way he knows she'll like. She even promises not to get mad if the color schemes aren't quite right, because she'll just fix it all when she gets there.

Simple as that.

And while he's taking care of the house, the next thing she wants him to do is find Jacob. Wherever he is. Because she expects him to be at the dinner table sharing a meal with them for her first night in their new home.

And in return for doing all of that, she'll handle everything else with BiBi, KitCat, RoRo, and A.J. and all of their precious grandbabies. She swears that she will make sure that every single little detail is taken care of, and when it's all done...

She'll come find him. And when she does, they'll share a dance in their kitchen to the tune of their favorite song - At Last by Etta James. Baby Girl goes on to assure him that it will be the first of many.

Some time later that night, her sweet Andy Bear takes her up on her offer. But not before opening his eyes one last time to see her sleeping in the chair at his bedside. Now that makes him crack a smile.

Because in the last dream he had he could've sworn he told her fine ass to get to bed. A real bed. Not a chair.

His sweet, beautiful girl never fucking listens.

Reader knows when he leaves. She later describes it to their children as feeling his lips brush her skin, right behind her ear. His favorite place to kiss her.

She and the kids keep the actual ceremony small, but then they throw a party - a celebration of Andy's life. And after that, Reader spends the next two years making sure everything is in order.

Just like she promised.

Andy comes to her in her dreams every now and again. And in those dreams he always looks like he did when they first met - her handsome man.

And when it's finally her time, Reader passes on surrounded by their babies. But she tells them not to worry, because their father has been sitting by her bedside for the last few days. She knows they can't see him...

But she swears he's right there. And he's brought along Jacob. She tells her sweet babies that she's finally ready to join the love of her life. They even share a little laugh when she tells them how their father keeps pestering her all because she owes him a dance.

And when she takes her last breath, the sweet sound of Etta James is playing softly in the background. Bianca and her siblings sit there quietly for a few minutes after her passing holding hands and reveling in the fact that they know their Mama went home.

She's finally back in the arms of the man that she loves. They have no doubt that their Mama and Daddy are finally sharing that dance. And wouldn't you know it...

Somewhere in the great beyond, they were right. Their Mama made it home at last. And she left the light on for them too. Just like she told them she would.

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evita-shelby · 2 years

Text

Nothing More Difficult than Love

Chapter 22

Gif by @retromafia

Taglist: (I'll add it when i remember who was in it)

She had been three when she had been taken from her mother. She had been nine when saw the address of her mother’s home and planned her first escape.

She had been ten when she got caught boarding the train to Birmingham and it was two weeks later when they put her on a ship bound to Australia.

The people they gave her to where not good people, not like the Cuthburts of Green Gables nor even her first two or three families who didn’t even know what the awful priest had done to her and Michael when he was eleven and she was nine.

Anna had been thirteen when she should’ve died from the Spring Fever, but she didn’t and used all of her savings to book passage back home.

The Second Sight had brought her to a kindly woman who pretended the lost girl was her granddaughter until they were safe in English soil.

“My Annie, my beautiful baby girl.” Her mother cried and refused to let go. Anna felt that of either let go, they’d be taken away from each other again.

“See if you can name them, you were too young to remember, but if you have the Gift, you’ll know them already.” Her mother said encouraging her to introduce herself to them.

Her cousins were strangers to her, strangers she’d seen in those fever dreams while she was ill.

“Arthur, Tommy, John, Finn and I have girl cousin named Ada.” Anna named them and her mother beamed at her with motherly pride.

This was her family. This was home.

Anna Elizabeth Gray was finally where she belonged.

----

It’s the anniversary of Eva’s arrival when Polly’s daughter arrives.

She remembers how her uncle and aunt embraced her tightly at the docks and told her that she was safe here.

Then all her things had been packed on to a narrow boat she’d only seen in her dreams and photographs, and she was taken to the man she’d marry.

“Just last year we stood here.” This time he is standing on the January and Eva was still standing on the wharf.

“I’m glad you weren’t disappointed in me, Tom.” Eva pulled him in for a kiss the second he stepped off the boat.

“You could never disappoint me, love.” He kissed her again and again until Arthur reminded them that there were children around.

“I bet you won’t be saying that when I get fat and look like a potato in a dress.” She joked with her husband as Anna Gray and her mother are helped off the boat.

“Anna, this is Tommy’s wife and the person who told us you were coming home.” Polly brought the unsure thirteen-year-old girl to her, and Eva greeted her like she always does, a handshake, a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m Eva, it is such a joy to finally meet you, Anna.” The witch told the young girl who was just so similar and yet so different than her mother. Took after the Grays and Polly’s mother with light brown hair that looked almost blonde, had Polly’s features, but these remained soft from innocence despite all she suffered on the way here.

“Me too, I kept seeing all of you in my dreams that I bought a ticket the second I got better,” the girl smiled shyly with her cheeks pinking up. A Shelby who blushed at the slightest things, when you live long enough you see such strange things.

“You’re just in time for my wedding, Sally Anna, Linda says you can be a bridesmaid if you want to. You’re going to love Linda, she’s real sweet and gentle like a lamb.” Arthur said taking over the conversation. He had been Anna’s godfather, him and Polly’s late sister-in-law.

The bond between Arthur and Polly was more like siblings, than aunt and nephew and who could blame them they were only a handful of years apart.

“Got enough witches to make a coven,” Eva whispered to Polly as her daughter was introduced to Linda and Finn once they were all home.

Polly smiled and shook her head. “I was sixteen when my abilities showed up, how old were you when they started?”

The older witch was concerned at how her daughter’s ability came and how strong it was already. It wasn’t uncommon, especially on witches who have had magic in their family trees. Eva’s was particularly strong, made her wonder how old Diana will be when she gets her first vision.

“I was eleven,” Eva hopes Polly doesn’t ask what she saw.

Eleven-year-old Eva had seen the people who’d be killed in the Rio Blanco strike two weeks after. And then saw the president throw a feast for the general who killed them all. She had only missed the part where the state governor ordered their ships at the harbor to be burnt in the middle of the night as punishment for daring to skip the state dinner.

“It’s good for witches to see things so young, I’ve heard of children born with their abilities already active and have better control over them than I do as a fucking adult. There’s even a boy in Tulum, Mexico whose mother was able to see into the future when she was pregnant. Anna is at a good age to learn, Polly, don’t worry.” Eva elaborated.

In truth, Eva was worried, not about Anna, but for herself. Her visions had stopped coming. She could read the cards and see it vaguely, but it was as if something was blocking her connection with the universe.

The only times her visions stopped, like now, was when Gabriel died, and she had to identify him in the pile of bodies and body parts that used to be people she knew and had come to cherish and strangers fighting to survive.

Gabe died spilt apart by a faulty grenade, a man can survive without an arm and a leg, but a man cannot survive without a head. That did not stop men from pretending they were him or Alan to try and take the money that had been theirs.

It had been that afternoon when Eva ran out of tears to shed, and her visions ceased to come.

This time she is pregnant and the happiest she’s ever been. Eva doesn’t understand why the fuck her power has deserted her now.

No one knows about this, Eva is terrified of what could happen when they do.

----

Anne of Green Gables came out in 1908 and is Anna's favorite book.

its also my headcanon that she and Michael weren't separated until they were nine and eleven which was when Father Hughes sexually abused them. after that they were fostered out to other people and Anna tried to find Polly before she was supposed to leave for Australia.

the Rio Blanco Strike/La Huelga de RIo Blanco happened in January 7 and 8 of 1907 in Rio Blanco, Veracruz where Federal Troops under President Porfirio Diaz , a Colonel named Francisco Ruiz and the French and American owners of the textile factories opened fire on the 2000 employees and civilians who had been on strike since Christmas after they tried to unionize and sue the factories as they were being paid in vouchers for the factories' store instead of actual money. between 70 to 600 people were murdered and Diaz threw a state dinner to thank Ruiz for his work.

#eva smith shelby #tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #oc fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic

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mythosmondays · 2 years

Text

Ep. 3. 'Prometheus & Man'

Oh sweet and lovely Muses, I come again asking that you lend me that gentle touch of inspiration, so I may tell again a story in honor of those Immortal Gods. Hear my prayer and take pity, and grant us your gift of forgetting, if only for these few moments. Kind and loved Muses, whisper to me the story of how that first man came to be the men of today and of old, and how the love of the Gods carries down from the loveliness of that first woman.

First though, we must speak of Prometheus, who was clever and foolhardy alike; that wanting son of Iapetus, brother to Atlas, who holds the Heavens on his back. This Prometheus was the same as had made the first man - that crude and unpleasant creation, for they stood hunched and squinted against the light - and for this none among the Immortal Gods could understand why he loved them so. But least of all that mighty King, Zeus, who holds the thunder; for it was this love of these first mortals that brought punishment down on Prometheus.

Though simple and primitive, these first men sought, rightfully, to honor the Gods on high for this world, so lovingly furnished by them, from which they supped. From this piety though came quarrel, for those radiant Olympians wanted the rich meat of sacrifice for themselves, but so without, the mortals would starve. Taking private counsel with men, Prometheus took the oxen which were to be offered and separated the offerings thusly: one portion was arranged of all the meat and fat-rich innards, wrapped in a skin and covered over by the large stomach; the other was made of pleasantly stacked bones and rubbed to glisten with fat, and then laid out upon an even finer skin.

These two portions he presented to that Aegis holder.

“Choose of these, Lord of All, and let this choice be sworn on from this day as the offerings owed by man.” And though by far the most clever and cunning of all these Gods, Prometheus on this day was cleverer still, and had dressed the bones so to that glorious King’s liking that shining Zeus could not resist the trick.

Seeing the meat and nourishing organs return to the men at the hands of Prometheus’ deceit, and spurred on by distaste for the mockery they were of their holy image, Zeus laid out a punishment for Prometheus by way of mortal suffering. “No fire shall pass down into their hands by which to roast that meat! Let them eat it raw, and gain little from it,” but having never had fire, this was small scorn to mortal men, who carried on. “This will be your price, son of Iapetus, for favoring your creation such. That you may watch them toil, and wither.”

But Prometheus’ love knew no bounds, and one night, when the radiant moon had hid herself away, he snuck into the home of that lovely maiden, Hestia, and drew an undying ember into a hollow stalk of fennel. His plan was so, as his own fire was being carefully watched by agents of that sky shaker; these were the unending bounds of his pity, and as the Earth glowed with the flickering light of flame, Zeus called assembly of those glorious Gods. And gesturing to the flames that dotted all the Earth on which man made their homes, hea addressed these radiant Gods. “See how Prometheus mocks - to steal from us again and again to aid his wretched creations,” and a thought of clever mischief crossed over him. “Let us make our own being of clay, to present to Epimetheus - for he can never refuse a gift. Come, Hephaestus, craft a woman to make girls for these men as foolish as their creator. One different from their own, to torment them for all their days.”

And he tasked his wife, that beautiful Queen of Gods, to sit and be the model for this creations; and he bid Athena, gray-eyes Goddess of handicrafts, to fashion a fine robe and veil of embroider silver; and his sister, Demeter, brough from her fields small bushels of fragrant herbs to tuck into her dress; and Hephaestus, that wondrous smith, laid a circlet of fine gold across her brown when he had finished his sculpting. In this fashion each of the Gods presented a gift, and it was so that this woman, while mortal the same as Prometheus' living clay, finely wore these blessings; and modeled after his beloved Hera, Zeus could not hate her. Now he understood that wild Prometheus’ love, and none of the Gods could deny their own fondness of her. Even so, no love would distract him, for these shining Olympians had dressed her most excellently at his behest to be a curse on those mortals of Prometheus, and so she would still. But that wisest of Gods came up with another plan, for his love for this girl suffered upon him the kind of pity only a gentle father could feel.

So planning now that she would become mother to a new and beloved race of men, he filled her with wit and a tongue as fierce as it was kind, so those men of Prometheus would never rest easy; he put behind all her beauty and softness a resilience unlike any mortal man who lived before her and tethered to it defiance; he filled her with curiosity and passionate wonder, and the need to understand all and to be understood the same. Each of those radiant Gods blessed her like this, in all the ways the clay from Promtheus’ hands had failed, this woman and her children would thrive, and while those first men withered and died away, her offspring would be nurtured by the Earth and the Gods who loved them, and would be great.

Then, so she may see clearly all in front of her, that King of Gods kissed each of her eyes and breathed into her life, and when she looked to him in wonder, he spoke softly to her. “Your name is Pandora, and you and your children will suffer,” and he gathered her close, bringing her into the light of those loving Gods to soothe the panic that overcame her. “But not eternally, and not without reprieve. Each of us Gods has blessed you and gifted to you a fineness to pass along to the generations you will bear, and these talents will find ways to remind you and all who come from you of that love, so long as you remember it.” And he waved forward his glorious daughter Athena, holding a pithos crafted by that glowing smith and decorated finely by her own hand, sealed and holding not wine or grain or honey, but torment.

“You must not open it,” said that lovely Goddess. “You must only carry it to the house of your husband with the same instruction.”

And Pandora, not fearing these Gods but loving them the same, accepted the pot and lifted her veil around her face to go and carry out her task. “I thank you for these blessings, but if I may,” and turning back to that thundering king, she asked of him. “But why must I not open it? Surely my husband will question this order. What should I say?”

“Tell him only that the Gods will it, if he is to accept you as his wife.” And they would speak of it no more. With the promises of blessings equal only to pain, they guided her down to Earth, to that dwelling of Epimetheus, and presented to him his bride.

Foolish as he was, he accepted her without question, and soon they were wed. She was a lovely wife, with a comely face and a delicate touch in her weaving, dutiful and talented beyond the other mortal women around her; but the differences between them seemed unending, and they shunned her. Left alone with only her husband, she proved herself more willful than these women too, asking him ceasely of the world around them, and soon Epimetheus found himself often away to avoid the pestering of his gift. The other women were simple and less pleasing to look on, but they were content to be silent when commanded and to take that Titan into their beds without fret or coaxing, for they were all the things Pandora was not. And it was then, on one of these nights when her husband had fled from her, that she finally grew tired of asking after the jar and what it had contained. She found it in the far corner of their storeroom still sealed, for all his foolishness, Epimetheus would not go against the whispered caution of those Gods the way his brother did so often.

In a fit of anger, discontent with subservience and loneliness, that lovely Pandora felt a rage unlike any woman’s swell inside of her, and she threw the pithos against the floor, unleashing all the terrible things inside which would make men suffer eternal. In her fear, she nearly missed that quiet spirit of Hope, small and frail in comparison to the terrible beings that had been locked away with her, but Pandora, her eyes kissed by Zeus before she had even breathed her first, saw her still, and nurtured her tenderly for all mankind.

Not so long after, that wondrous king called on Prometheus, both to shame him for what he’d brought down on the mortals they loved, and to offer him a solution. “You know a prophecy I wish to hear, one of a child that will overthrow me,” and he drew Prometheus closer. “Tell it to me, and lay your repentance at my feet, and I will call all those spirits unleashed back, all but for Hope, so our creations may live in peace.”

“I will not,” said the Titan. “So you will it that they may suffer, then let them. I will not tell you.” And enraged at the defiance, and at the sudden acceptance of mortal struggles, Zeus ordered for him another punishment, for he could not go back on his word without good cause to do so to bring about the hardship of man. Chained to a rock, Prometheus would lay and wait for that agent of Zeus, that mighty eagle, to feast on his liver, a suffering eternal, for each night that immortal blood that flowed through him would regrow the organ in his side to be eaten again.

This is, for now, the fate of Prometheus, father and executioner alike of the first race of men, the lot of that champion of mortals. May the Gods hear this telling and be pleased; may the Muses find my work just so, pleasing enough to them that they may come to tell me these tales again. This day I wish you well in forgetting, and welcome you back soon to forget these torments again.

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enhais · 2 years

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More on yandere bully jungwon ?

bully, yandere!jungwon — a confession

content: bully, yandere!jungwon x fem!reader. he’s not as bad as he might seem...

word count: 802

a/n: oh my… you guys seem to really like bully!jungwon, huh? i would be really mean if i didn’t satisfy your needs </3 here you go! and as usual, this is only my opinion/vision of them as yanderes, nothing else!

“oh, y/n~” his voice sang through the corridor. he had left the cafeteria and his friends earlier just to find you — the girl who kept filling his thoughts from day to night. your legs began to tremble and you looked to your left only to find him staring at you. his gaze was hiding something, but anger wasn’t it. something quite the opposite. you were quick to take out the books that you needed and closed the locker before turning away in hopes that you would escape him. but you never did. the firm hand on your shoulder turned you around once again, this time facing your bully who had a smirk plastered on his lips. “don’t you run away from me now, baby.” he leaned in closer to you, causing his breath to hit your face. you closed your eyes, nerves taking over, “have you done my homework?” you nodded, still not looking at him, “where is it?” he backed you up against your locker with his hands on your shoulders gripping tightly. you opened your eyes and opened your locker to give him the paper. you never understood how the teacher let him get away with it when it was so obvious that someone else had done it for him. you handed him the paper with shaking hands, “thank you, baby.”

but he wasn’t satisfied with just that. seeing how much of an easy target you were, other guys bullied you as well. compared to jungwon, they were much worse. calling you names, writing on your uniform, pushing you into walls, bruising you up… at least jungwon treated you with some sort of respect. he was on his way home after school but stopped when he saw you surrounded by a couple of older guys. people that he knew. “hey, what’s going on?!” he yelled as he came closer to the scene. your beautiful features had been bruised and bloody, causing his blood to boil. “jungwon!” they greeted him with smiles like they were happy to see him. you looked up at him with big, watery eyes — you could cry at any moment. he played along, shaking their hands and bringing them in for a hug, “are you gonna tell me what you’re doing?” one of the bigger guys laughed, “apparently she won’t do our homework anymore.” the younger nodded and thought for a second before speaking his mind, “yeah, she only does it for me… you can find someone else, right?” the other guy scoffed in disbelief, “alright… we’ll see…” he patted jungwon’s shoulder before leaving, automatically taking the group of guys with him.

jungwon crouched down to your cowering form and brushed the hair out of your face. his touch was gentle, noting like how the others had treated you only a few minutes ago. his thumb wiped across the bruise on your cheek, “my baby…” he looked at you with worry, “let’s take care of this, shall we?” you sniffled and took his hand into yours. he took you to a nearby pharmacy to buy some cream for your injuries and you refused to leave his side in fear of the guys coming back. if only you knew how jungwon’s heart grew at the sight of you. “i’ll make sure no one ever lays their hands on you…” he trailed off as he put the ointment on your face, “why do you treat me like this?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. that’s the first time you had asked him something. he stopped his actions for a second before continuing, “like what?” you chewed the inside of your cheek, questioning if it was a good idea to speak your mind, “like… you bully me, but then you’re so sweet to me?” he chuckled quietly and finished up the application before taking your hand in his, “i wanted to get your attention at first but i didn’t know how, so i talked to some guys, one of them being the one who hit you earlier, and they told me to bully you.” he began, “i don’t know, maybe i was scared of them as well, but i couldn’t bring myself to treat you like how they maybe wanted me to…” he squeezed your hand, “i’m sorry about everything.”

you knew you would have a difficult time accepting his apology, yet you were grateful that he never hit you. he took you home that afternoon to make sure you were doing alright and even talked to your parents to explain the situation. he then offered to pay for any inconveniences that he had caused, knowing how bad you might’ve felt. it definitely eased his heart that you knew how it started. maybe jungwon wasn’t as bad as you thought? and maybe jungwon could get closer to you this way?

#ok he kinda cute #jungwon #yandere jungwon #enhypen #enhypen imagine #enhypen reaction #enhypen au #jungwon imagine #jungwon reaction #jungwon au #yandere enhypen #yandere kpop #kpop #kpop imagine #kpop reaction #kpop au

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sugawara-sweetheart · 2 years

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Are you still taking dilf thirsts? Idk if this is okay but dilf! Uncle Getou who is “overprotective” of single dad!gojo’s college daughter. Gojo thinks that it is cute and thankful that someone is helping him raise his baby because god knows he’s too chaotic to do it on his own. He thinks that with Getou around, those unworthy college boys won’t be able to put their slimy hands on his precious girl, but what he doesn’t know is that his little princess is already wrapped around Getou’s fingers.

dilf thirsts are always open bby <3 (any thirsts tbh but im really loving the dilf stuff rn) also your req is absolutely fine!! i love it so much!! big brain nonnie <33

warnings: age gap, it feels like pseudo-incest and grooming tbh, car sex, afab!reader

everyone knew gojo was going to need help when he became a single father but thank god for getou being the one to step up.

you've known him since you were a child, adoring uncle suguru who was always calmer than your own dad. you love him but gojo’s chaotic, irresponsible and even though you know he adores you, that he’d do anything for you, he was just simply too busy.

thank god for getou who made sure gojo didn’t forget your parent-teacher meetings or dentist appointments, getou who helped pick out your birthday gifts and ordered the cakes for your surprise birthdays, getou who made you soup and gave you baths when you were sick, getou who you loved so much that when you finally turned eighteen, into this beautiful woman, you promised to give yourself away to him as gratitude, as a symbol of your devotion to the man who loves you so much.

getou understands gojo when he voices his worries about his little girl starting university. he knows the temptations that may lace around you- the alcohol, the drugs, the boys- those horrible nasty boys that won’t know how to treat you right. it’s getou’s perfect understanding that makes him perfect for the job of thwarting any possible romances.

he picks you up from university nearly every day, waiting outside his car as you skip down across campus to him. he can see how men’s eyes follow you, how they flicker up and down your legs, stare at your ass in that tiny skirt, how whole groups turn around just to gawk at you.

but none of them will make a move, not when getou’s long fingers wrap around your throat, not squeezing, not forceful, always gentle as he pulls you into a kiss. you go weak at the knees, clinging to the man old enough to be your father as he swallows your whines before pulling away, grinning with his wet lips at how needy you look just after one kiss.

“did my smart little princess have a productive day studying?” you nod but it’s like all your thoughts have dissipated out of your mind whenever it comes to getou. and leading you into the car, he only manages to drive five minutes before you’re kissing at his neck, hand pawing at his bulge whilst he chuckles. he pulls over into an empty car park, rubbing his thumb along your lip, smirking at how your tongue flicks out at it, eyes full of wanton need.

“my sweet little girl can’t even wait till we get home.” he coos, eliciting a little whine from you.

“need you now, sugu. please.”

who’s getou to deny you? after all, you’re his sweet little girl and any refusal may drive you into the dangerous claws of another.

so getou has you lying down in the back seats, legs wrapped around his waist as he drives his cock into your tight, little cunt, your wetness squelching so loud he’s sure you must’ve been soaked since he dropped you off that morning. he loves how you press your chest flush against his, how you whine his name and when he finally makes you cum, you bury your face into the crook of his neck.

“i love you, suguru.” you breathe into his skin, eyes fluttering close as he peppers your hot face with kisses.

poor gojo not knowing that the man he trusts as your protective guardian is actually his worst fear.

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t-o-m-hollands · 3 years

Text

Summery: You and Tom bet on who will touch the other first after he comes home from filming. Both refusing to give in you resort to some teasing measures to get the other one to break.

Pairing; Tom + female reader.

Themes: Light-hearted, lots of teasing. Established relationship. Fluff. Cocky Tom. Cocky reader too, let’s face it. They are both stubborn idiots. Lots of horniness all around. To be honest, very little plot and mostly smut. Bit of fluff as well though.

Warnings: Unprotected sex in established relationship. Masturbation. This work is strictly +18.

A/N: Not beta-read, I’m wine drunk and wrote this in like 2,5 hours so it is what it is.

It was such a stupid fucking bet and he wish he never agreed to it. It is all your fault, he decides, as he watches you bend over into downward dog, your breathing rhythmic and even as you stretch your beautiful body. He tries to look away from your ass, honestly he does, but you’re wearing those light grey yoga pants that practically has him drooling and the fabric is hugging your body so perfectly it would be a crime to look away.

Plus, he’s pretty sure that’s the whole point of you doing this, practicing yoga in the living room right in front of him as he’s supposed to be working. The whole point is to have him staring, so he doesn’t feel too bad about it.

It had all started the week before he was set to return from filming. He had teased you (and sure, in retrospect that was a terrible idea and he should have known better) had said that you would jump him the first chance you got, that he probably wouldn’t even get through the door before you had him out of his jeans. You had retaliated with an accusation that he would be the one all over you and obviously he had to deny that.

It had spiraled, neither one of you willing to give in and admit defeat and now here you are; a full day after his return and he hasn’t as much as hugged you.

Because whoever touches the other first loses the bet.

And now here you are, in front of him; wearing skin tight yoga pants and bending over.

A part of him, the midsection of his body to be precise, wants to just give in; to hand you the victory - fuck his pride. But the part of him, the rational part he likes to think, that has him bashing up golf clubs every time his dad beats him in a golf round; refuses to give in.

So what if he hasn’t seen you, hasn’t felt your body in over three months? Or that he now has your magnificent ass right in his face as he’s trying to concentrate on his dull emails. So what? He’s not faced by that, he’s a man of the world after all.

You lean forwards again until you’re on the ground, turn to your back and start to slowly but steadily push your hips up and down, in what Tom can only assume, is referred to as the ghost fucking position.

“Aren’t you supposed to answer emails?” You ask and he doesn’t even need to look at your face to know that you have a smug smile on your face.

“I am” he mutters, looking away from your body on the floor and back to his phone screen.

You laugh, and he pretends not to hear it, while you pretend that the visible hard-on he’s sporting doesn't make you want to climb into his lap and give in to both of your temptations.

The bet was stupid and totally his idea.

Tom comes out of the shower, drops of water still pouring from his wet hair onto his sculpted chest. The only thing he’s wearing is the white towel wrapped around his waist and the silver Rolex on his wrist. Seeing you standing in the kitchen and slicing tomatoes he sends you his widest smile.

And you thought you were playing unfair with the yoga.

He sits down by the bartop, all bare chested and golden. “Anything I can help with?” he asks as you place the tomatoes in the salad bowl. “A change of music perhaps?”

You throw a left over piece of tomato at him and it hits him square in the chest. He just smiles wider, completely unfaced. “Leave my dinner playlist alone, yeah?” You tell him, resisting the urge to give him the finger.

“So tense” he snickers and leans his head to the side, “I know what could help you relax.”

“Throwing more tomatoes at you? Because we need them in the salad, Thomas.”

He stands up and moves around the kitchen island until he’s behind you, careful as not to touch, framing you against the bench with his strong arms on either side of your body. You can smell him, fresh out of the shower, feel the warm radiate from his body; it is as he’s already holding you. He’s so close, it’s like every cell in your body is reaching out for him.

And it’s been so long.

Three months of twisting and turning alone in bed, of only your own hands as company and him on the phone screen as he encourages you; tells you how goddamn gorgeous you look fucking yourself for him. Three months of only seeing him on the phone; not being able to touch him and feel him for yourself, to taste his skin. To just see him spill all over his own hand instead of being there, catching it all with your tongue.

But it will have to wait a little while longer, because although you might love him, and the way he makes you feel, there’s no way you’re giving in just yet.

Slowly turning around, carefully as not to touch him, you reach for the bottle. “You can open this, since you wanted to help” you say and hand him the wine, “that would help me relax.”

He smiles, unbothered by his failed attempt at luring you to defeat, and steps back. You stir the pasta sauce, trying not to look at his bare chest as he’s leaning over the kitchen counter, looking for something. Finally he finds the corkscrew and sits back again at the bar table. He gets to work with opening the bottle, his strong veined hand wrapped around the throat of the bottle, as the other inserts the screw. His brow is furrowed in concentration and he’s biting his lip. Around his wrist the Rolex watch reflects in the light. Uncorking the bottle he pours blood red liquid into two wine glasses and hands you one before taking a sip from his own, brown eyes looking at you from over the rim of his glass.

“Put a fucking shirt on, Thomas” you mutter, going back to chopping vegetables.

The song and dance of torturing each other continues for the following two days. What goes on between you can only be described as a red-hot war.

“Oh for fuck sake!” Tom’s voice booms over the living room.

“Too direct?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“No, no not at all” he answers, voice dripping with sarcasm, “no please, keep deep-throating the banana, it’s incredibly subtle.”

Slowly he wakes, blinking into the dark night. The alarm clock on his bedside table tells him that it’s just after 2 am and for a few long seconds he stares at it.

A rustling of sheets beside him in bed and it hits him. He’s home, home in his own bed with you laying next to him, as it should always be. Except that things aren’t the way it should be.

Because of that stupid goddamn bet.

The sheets rustle again and he wonders if you are awake as well. But then he hears it; a soft moan.

Turning over in bed at lighting speed he stares down at you. “Are you fucking touching yourself?” He asks, heatedly.

Your answer is another soft moan as you look up at him, pupils blown wide and lips parted. Tearing of the duvet he looks down at your naked body, at you hand, covered in slick, moving over your clit.

Fuck.

He moves over, leans over you; his legs on either side of yours and his arm on each side of your face, carefully making sure that he isn’t touching you. A slight catch of breath is all the sign you give of having been surprised, your hand keeping it’s gentle pace.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks, voice low in the quiet room.

“You” is your breathless reply, “you touching me.”

“Think this is how I would touch you?” He asks, snickering. He’s holding his body over you, looking into your lust-filled eyes. “I’d go much slower at first, tease you. Slowly move around your clit until your hips are bucking up and you're begging me for more”.

He moves his head, so that his lips are almost touching yours. Almost.

“You’re so good at begging after all” he murmurs against your lips, moving his boxer clad hips so that they almost touch you and you groan, your face telling of vexation and volatile bliss. But you do as he says, follow his instruction with the movement of your hand.

“Good girl” he whispers softly against your lips.

“Then I’d slide one fingers inside that wet cunt, still slow; still teasing.”

You whine, but you do as he says. Slowly you move one finger in and out of yourself, as the other hand is still circling your clit. “Need more” you moan but he just smiles.

“Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He teases with a devilish grin, tilting his head to the side, looking down at you with sparkling eyes. “But your hands are smaller than mine, so maybe you should add another finger.”

You insert your middle finger as well; and moan. “Faster” you beg, but he shakes his head and so a string of curses fall out your mouth and all he can do is smile at it.

“That filthy fucking mouth of yours” me mutters.

“Well if you shove your dick into it instead then this stupid fucking bet will be over and we’ll both get off.”

“You know, I’ve really missed your fantastic sense of humor while I’ve been away” he answers dryly, but with a smile.

“Tom” you whine. “I need more.”

He wants to kiss you so badly, to press his lips against yours and taste you; to remove his boxers and sink into you in one swift movement until your hoarse and wanton whines turn into satisfied moans, soft and sweet like honey.

“Go on then, darling” he says, voice huskier than usual in the dark night. “Speed up for me.”

You do, your body hungry for satisfaction, hunting your orgasm with determent, sharp movements.

“Fuck,” he swears, “fuck you’re soaked.” He looks down at your wet slit, your rapidly moving fingers, your hips bucking up to meet your hand. Looking back into your wild eyes he groans, his mouth still dangerously close to yours.

“The whole room smells of you” he moans, and it’s true. The scent of your arousal mixes with the scent of your perfumed skin and this is the closest he’s been so far to falter; to give in to temptation.

Your head is thrown back against the pillows, throat exposed, soft moans escaping freely. He wants to touch you everywhere, feel the softness of your skin with his rough hands, his wet mouth, his teeth. He’s breathing hard and he hasn’t even been touched, but he feels the want of touching you in his bones.

He wants to wrap his lips around your hardened nipples. To suck, bite, lick and kiss them until you fall over the edge.

“So fucking beautiful” he breathes out. Even if he had wanted to he wouldn't have been able to look away from you. “But it’s my hand your fucking, remember? Think I’d wouldn’t fuck you harder than that?”

And god, he wish it was his hand you were fucking, wish he could feel you come; hot and wet and pulsing around his fingers. Instead he is left to watch. Watch as the movements of your hand speeds up until fucking yourself with a carnal kind of need, until you fall apart at the seams; luscious bliss spreading over your features, and your tense body relaxes until you soften against the mattress; loose limbed and starry eyed.

And he is left to take care of the his erection all on his own.

A thin layer of sweat is covering his chest and his muscles are taut as he forces his arms to carry his weight into another push-up.

“Thirty-six” he groans out, his voice strained and deep from the physical effort, curls of brown hair falling over his face as he lowers himself to the ground again. “Thirty-seven.”

You couldn’t look away even if you tried, your eyes fixed on the muscles of his back, and the way they move as he moves.

You feel agitated and frantic and in that moment you want nothing more than to lay down beneath him; look up at him as move above you with swift, powerful moments. It’s beyond reason, the carnal tug inside you as you watch him and it is absolutely maddening that he hasn’t given in yet to his desire; because you know he desires you, have seen it in his dark eyes, always following you around the room, over the last few days.

But you are not going to be the first one to give in.

“Forty-two” he moans out, and the sound of his heavy breathing and deep groans vibrate somewhere far inside you.

You’re not.

You just need a change of tactic, that’s all.

The pub is packed tonight, but the more secluded pool area section is scarce of people. Tom sips on his beer, scrolling through instagram; waiting for you, as the speakers blast out ‘Galway Girl’ for what feels like the hundredth time since he came in. He’s been visiting a friend while you’ve been at work, having decided this morning to meet up at the pub after for a meal and a game of pool.

A text pops up on the screen, beside your picture. It simply says ‘Look up’.

He does. And fuck.

Oh, fuck no.

Oh, for all that is holy, surely you wouldn’t be that cruel to him.

Not the white shorts.

Not the white shorts you had worn last summer, the ones you know very well turns him on like nothing else. The ones you had worn that time when you had driven down to the beach on bonfire night; the time when you pulled him aside from the rest of the company and he had ended up fucking you against the birch wood tree just some meters away from all your friends, your shorts around your ankles and your nails digging into his back as you tried to bite back you moans.

Surely you wouldn’t be this cruel to him, because he’s pretty sure he’s going to die. He hasn’t had sex in over three months and you show up looking like this and he’s pretty sure he’s going to die.

He’s just not sure about whether this is going to be heaven

or hell.

He watches you as you walk through the pub with long confident strides, the goddamn heels you're wearing extending your legs, and the fabric of the white tank top stretching over your chest. Your lips are painted blood red, as if you are ready for battle.

He’s not the only one in the pub staring at you but you keep your eyes fixed on him, burning into his eyes, as you move across the floor.

“Honey” you greet him. “Got one of those for me as well?” You nod to the beer in his hand, frozen mid movement to his mouth.

“Why?” He asks, trying to regain the upper hand. “Feeling thirsty?”

You laugh dryly, looking down at his crotch, where he’s painfully aware a bulge is showing. Instead of commenting on it he hands you the other beer bottle he ordered and watches as you wrap your red lips around the opening, swallowing down. He feels warm all over in the stuffy pub and he pulls at the collar of his t-shirt.

He reaches for the cue sticks and hands you one. “Alright, darling” he sighs, knowing very well what kind of teasing hell you are about to put him through tonight, “let’s play.”

The playlist has gone from Ed Sheeran songs to Mumford & Sons and the pub is still packed with people, though the pool area remains empty apart from you and Tom. It's warm in there and Tom takes big gulps from his third beer of the night. He can feel sweat forming on his back, his brow, his chest.

You’re not helping the situation. Although he’s pretty certain that helping is opposite of what you’re trying to do.

“You’re so fucking annoying” he whines, as he watches you hit the white ball perfectly, resulting in two of your striped balls ending up in the pockets. He’s leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and mouth in a thin line.

He fucking hates losing.

“You know what you should do?” You ask, lining up against the table, arched back as you bend over with your cue stick; giving him a full view of your fucking fantastic thighs, “try to fuck it out of me.” You hit another perfect shot and a third ball goes in. You look over your shoulder at him, still bent over the table, and wink.

Standing up straight you turn to him. Swaying your hips to the music you lift the beer bottle to your red lips and you swallow a mouthful. Placing the bottle next to you on the side of the pool table you walk over to him, standing so close you’re almost touching.

Almost

In fact, you might as well be, for he can smell your perfume, mixing with the scent of your shampoo. Can feel the heat radiate of your warm body. It’s been so long since he’s held you and his entire body is painfully aware of it.

With your lips just centimeters from his you whisper; voice husky and low, “I know how bad you want me, honey.” You move your face so that you’re almost kissing the stubble on his cheek, mouth nearly pressed against it.

“You want my hands” you whisper again, looking up at him, your hand hovering right over his erection, carefully as not to touch it, and he nearly bucks out to meet your hand. He’s glad that the area is more secluded, part of the wall hiding the pair of you from view. It feels like there’s just the two of you in the entire world; might as well be for all he cares right now. A blush colours his cheeks as he stares back at you.

“You want my mouth” you breathe against him, your lips curled into an evil smile. “You want my tongue” and you lick your lips before biting it, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You wish I was on my hands and knees right now, so you could fuck my mouth.” you finish.

His skin feels tight and overheated, but he keeps his tone casual as he replies, “actually I wish you were bent over the table so spank that arse of yours, but sure, I wouldn’t say no to a blowie.”

“What’s stopping you? You think you can hold on forever? You know I’m not going to give in, Tom. You know me. Can you imagine going to sleep tonight? Untouched? Again?”

There’s no use he thinks as he plunges in for a kiss, pulling you tight against him; eager to touch as much as you as possible with impatient hands.

He tried to beat the devil at her own game and he lost.

“Think you lost, honey” you say between kisses as he’s pressing you up against the front door.

“Don’t give a flying fuck love, just keep touching me and I’ll die a happy man.” His voice is breathless and hoarse and his hands are all over you; as if he can’t get enough. Your hand is in his soft hair, holding on, as the other is cupping the bulge in his trousers, stroking him through the fabric as he whimpers in your ear.

“We should probably get inside,” you whisper. “Unless you want your neighbors to witness me give you a hand job on the front steps.”

He groans, but steps away from you. His hair is ruffled and his pupils are blown wide, spit from your previous kissing covering his lower lip. You imagine you look just as disheveled.

“Think you need to learn a lesson in delayed gratification” you tease, not being able to stop yourself.

His eyes go even darker and he takes a step forward again, cups your chin and looks you straight in the eye in a way that has bolts of excitement shoot up your spine. “Before the night is over” he says in a slow, gruff voice, “I will teach you all there is to know about delayed gratification.”

He digs in his pockets, pulls out his keys and unlocks the front door, guiding you in with a hand on your lower back.

He feels as if someone has lit a match under his skin. His whole body is screaming with vehement urgency for yours. His hands can’t get enough of you; his lips never want to leave your soft lips again. Your soft little noises are filling his head and he hardly even registers your hands unzipping his jeans; until you’re pulling them, alongside his boxers, off of him in a sharp tugging notion.

“Filthy girl, I fucking love you” he moans out between kisses as you wrap your soft hand around his hard cock.

He pulls at your tank top and for a moment your skin separates entirely from his as you step away, so that he can remove the fabric from you. Yanking at the goddamn jeans shorts he pulls them down around your ankles and you step out of them. Your underwear soon follows suit along with his t-shirt until you both are free of any inconvenient clothing.

He needs your warm and soft skin pressed against his, needs your soft little moans in his ear as he fucks into you, needs the taste of your sweet skin on his tongue.

He lifts you up on the bed and soon follows suit. Reaching down he slips a finger between your legs, feels how wet and warm and slick you are and groans loudly against your shoulder.

Lining up against you, cock in hand he looks at your lust filled eyes. “Next time I’ll go slow, yeah? I’ll take my time.”

Your answer is your hands on his shoulder, pulling him against you and he slips inside you with an ecstatic moan. You moan as well, wrap your legs around his hips. He starts moving, thrusting in and out of you with greedy dragged out jabs. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room and mixes with your whimpering mewls.

You are so hot and tight and wet around him and the pleasure is so intense it’s bordering on painful. His face is so close to yours, it is as if you are sharing breaths.

He wants to punch himself from denying himself this for several days when he already had to go without for months.

“Did you think your hands could stand in for mine while I was away? That it could measure up at all?” He asks you, voice thick with lust. He’s so full of want for you and you’re all soft noise and wandering hands. Your warm breath on his even warmer skin. His lips on your nipples; kissing, sucking, biting.

You writhe beneath him, unable to lay still as you buck your hips up to meet his; fucking into him. He’s not going to last long but neither is you and holding on is a losing battle. Like he said, next time he will go slower, gentler, softer. Drag it out for an entire night. But you both have too much built up pressure inside you to last now. He feels like a bomb about to go off, sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine, as he fucks into you with even greater force. You’re hot and swollen and hugging onto him so perfectly he feels like he’s going to lose his mind if he doesn’t get to come soon.

But he knows that you are close. Feels it in your nails, dragging along his back, in the sharp movements of your thrusts, in your laboured breathing against his shoulder. He feels it in the way your cunt squeezes around him.

“I’m coming” you whimper and he wants to cry from the relief as he feels you spasm around him.

“Fuck” you moan out as your breathing calms down, and he’s holding you pressed against his chest. “Haven’t had a decent orgasm in months, I wasn’t prepared for that.”

“You really can’t function without me, can you?” he says with a smug smile and honestly, hadn’t you’ve been so blissed out you probably would have bitten him.

A/N: I honestly don’t know if any of this made sense. I’m drunk and tired and I’m going to bed. If you read it, please leave your thoughts.

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland smut #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader

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squiggledrop · 3 years

Text

Of Lace and Love - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: It is Valentine’s Day, and Spencer has a romantic night planned for Reader, but she has other plans in mind.

Word Count: 6.3k

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: Smut, Fluff (NSFW, 18+)

Warnings: Oral sex, penetrative sex (unprotected), fingering

You woke up to Spencer pressing gentle kisses to your face. You opened your eyes, smiling and meeting his warm gaze. You brought your hand up to his face, running your thumb over his cheek. He leaned into your touch, placing a chaste kiss on your palm.

“Happy Valentine’s Day (Y/n),” he whispers.

“Happy Valentine’s Day Spence,” you smile.

He kept staring at you through his glazed over eyes, and you could feel your cheeks flush under his gaze.

“What?” you laughed, searching his eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Feeling your heart swell with all the love you held for the man next to you, you slid your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. His warm lips met yours, his hands coming to rest at your waist. Your tongue grazed his lip and was immediately met with him opening his mouth, deepening the kiss.

Soft whimpers filled the room, and Spencer shifted so that he was laying on top of you. His knee slotted between your thighs, and you could feel him growing against you. He leaned down, desperate for more, and you both moaned at the added pressure. He smiled into your mouth, feeling how wet you were against his thigh. With the added encouragement, he griped your hips, pulling you against him, providing you both with the relief you so desperately craved.

Leaning down, he attached his mouth to your jaw, trailing soft, warm kisses down the length of your neck. Your hands ran through his hair, your body pushing into his. He nipped at your pulse point, eliciting a desperate moan from your swollen lips.

“Spence,” you breathed, placing a hand on his chest. He stopped his actions, his pleading eyes peering up at you. “We’re gonna be late,” you say with a sympathetic sigh. You run your finger over his plump lips, wanting nothing more than to spend the entire day in bed with Spencer.

“I know,” he groans, rolling off of you. He turns his head, brown curls shifting against the pillowcase, as he took one last look at you before leaving the comfort of your shared bed. “Just wait until tonight”, he smirks, “after what I have planned, you’ll never be leaving this bed again.” “I’ll be holding you to that,” you mumble against his lips as he leans down for one last kiss before getting ready for the day.

You watched as he entered the bathroom, smiling to yourself. You knew Spencer had something special planned for tonight, but what he didn’t know was that you had a plan of your own.

After hearing the water from the shower start, you got yourself up, excited to initiate phase one.

Spencer spat out his toothpaste, finishing brushing his teeth. “Hey, (Y/n),” he calls, walking back into the bedroom, “I was thinking, for tonight would you rather-”

You looked up, feigning confusion as to why he stopped mid-sentence. You were met with his mouth hung open, and his eyes glued to your body. You cocked your head and raised your eyebrows, questioning his sessile state. “Would I rather what?” you asked innocently, leaning down to grab a skirt out of your dresser.

“W-would um-,” Spencer stuttered, trying to form a coherent thought, which posed itself as quite difficult when face to face with his practically nude girlfriend. “Sorry,” he said, shaking his head, “wha-what are you wearing?”

“Underwear”, you said, biting back a smirk at what might be the understatement of the year.

You had gone shopping with the girls the week prior, and when you saw this in the lingerie store, you knew you had to have it for tonight. It was red, lacey, and barely covered anything: it was perfect. You watched as Spencer raked over your form, noticing the way his eyes traced your ass that was on full display. You slipped your short black skirt over it, making sure to give it a good shake in the process. Reaching for your blouse, you saw Spencer gulp, the redness spreading across his cheeks almost matching the fabric that rested against your skin.

He watched with bated breath, wanting nothing more than to rip the delicate piece of fabric that barely covered your chest off of you. He bit his lip, holding back a groan as you fumbled with the buttons of your white blouse, pushing your tits together in the process. Spencer begged for the tiny fabric to give, but he also knew you had to get to work, and right now, you were making that a bit difficult for him.

“Spence,” you giggled, pulling him from his trance. His eyes darted up to meet yours, and he gave you a weak smile, pretending you didn’t just catch him ogling you. “I said, can you help me with these buttons?”

He slowly nodded his head, watching as you made your way towards him.

When you were face to face, he hesitated, his gaze shifting between your face and tits. You chuckled, loving how easily you could make him a flustered mess. “Here,” you smiled, bringing his hands to your open blouse. Spencer’s breath hitched as his fingers grazed the supple skin of your stomach and over your breasts.

He tried to get his fingers to stop shaking, but between how soft your skin was, how hot your breath was, and how tight his pants were, he couldn’t help but fumble with the buttons.

Noticing him shift uncomfortably, you looked down, smirking at the bulge growing in his pants. You felt the wetness pooling in your panties, and you sighed, desperately wanting his trembling fingers to touch you a bit lower. But, you couldn’t give in just yet.

“You seem a bit distracted, baby,” you cooed, dragging your fingers up his chest before placing them over his hands. Spencer looked up at you and blushed, giving you a shy smile. You leaned forwards, your tits pressing against him, and placed a light kiss on his cheek before pulling away.

He let out a small whimper at the loss of contact, but you just gave him a sweet smile before shaking your head and turning to leave the room. He groaned, watching the way your hips swayed as you finished buttoning your blouse.

“Come on Spence, don’t want to be late for work,” you call after him with an innocent grin. He trailed behind, eyes glued to your now clothed body.

“I hate you,” he said, trying to hide his smile as he grabbed his keys.

“I love you too,” you giggled, giving him a chaste kiss before grabbing his hand and making your way out the door. He sighed, giving your hand a quick squeeze, while simultaneously willing his painfully hard cock to go away. But, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t get the thought of what you were wearing under your seemingly innocent work clothes out of his head. This was going to be a long day, he thought to himself.

While riding the subway to work, you took note of how he gripped your hand a little tighter and pulled you a bit closer. The way his eyes scanned for anyone daring to look at you wrong was also not lost on you.

“Spence,” you said in a calming voice, “it’s okay, baby. You are the only one who knows okay?”

“No I- I know. I just,” he trailed off, his gaze switching between your lips and chest. You noticed, of course, and brushed his hair behind his ear. Leaning in, you whispered, “It’s our little secret. Just for you.”

He nodded, trying to ignore how your warm breath sent shivers down his spine. He closed his eyes, reminding himself he only had two more stops to get himself together before having to get through an entire workday beside you. A long day indeed, he huffed, a very long day.

When you got to the office, Spencer told you to go ahead, claiming he just needed a minute to compose himself. You gave him an understanding smile and told him that if he really wanted, you guys could just go home and tell Hotch one of you was sick. Spencer refused, however, determined to not let your surprise ruin his, because regardless of how much he didn’t want to have a boner in front of all his coworkers, he loved that you were doing this for him, and just for him.

Walking to your desk, a bright smile found its way to your face. A giant bouquet of red roses was on your desk, along with a cup of coffee and a blueberry muffin. You gleefully picked up the small card placed between two of the flowers and read it to yourself.

(Y/n),

My love for you stems deep.

Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.

-Spencer

Picking up the cup of coffee, you heard the elevator ding, and you turned around to meet Spencer’s bashful smile.

“How did you do this?” you asked, humming as you took a sip of the coffee.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he teased. You smiled, noticing a giddy Penelope out of the corner of your eye.

“Well, thank you, Spencer. They are beautiful.” You leaned into his chest, closing your eyes as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Not as beautiful as you.” Looking up at him, you placed a loving kiss on his lips. Spencer melted into your touch, bringing his hands to rest on your waist. This, however, was a grave mistake, because now he could feel the thin straps that held the even thinner piece of lace in place, and he was once again reminded of what was behind the silky blouse that was currently between his fingers.

Clearing his throat, Spencer gave you a quick peck before sitting down at his desk. As long as he didn’t have to get up, he should be fine, he convinced himself. Spencer, however, was not aware that phase two had not yet begun.

It had been a few hours, and thankfully, Hotch needed you to go through some files for him, which kept you busy and out of Spencer’s line of sight, meaning he could actually focus and get some work done. He would be lying if he said he was relieved though because a part of him longed for you to be near him, even if it would be impossible to get his work done.

Soon enough, lunch rolled around, and he felt two arms wrap around him from behind. Smelling your perfume, he smiled and turned his head to meet you. You pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, reveling in how he hummed in content.

“You ready to get some lunch?” you asked, lightly rubbing your hands over his shoulders. Spencer tried to answer, but the feeling of you pressed against him made his mind go blank. He gripped his thighs, forcing out a nod. “Okay, are you in the mood for anything in particular?” you asked sweetly, unaware of what you were doing to him.

“You,” he replied nonchalantly. You let out an amused gasp at his words and felt the same arousal return from that morning.

You leaned down, your lips pressing against the shell of his ear. Your hands gripped onto his shoulders and you whispered into his ear. “Soon enough baby.”

Spencer’s eyes screwed shut at your actions, and he resisted the urge to just take you into one of the file closets and do what he’s wanted to do since you both woke up. But, then as if nothing had happened, you stood up straight and went to grab your bag.

“I’m in the mood for thai,” you stated, “What if we go to that place down the street?”

“Yeah, that um- that sounds good.” Spencer stood up, making sure to position his satchel so it covered his crotch. You bit back a smile and took his hand, heading for the elevators.

“Not a word,” he tried to say seriously through a giggle.

“I didn’t say anything,” you amused, giving his hand a tender squeeze.

“No, but you want to,” he smiled, giving you a knowing look.

You stepped into the elevator, waiting for the doors to close before you responded.

“I want to do a lot more than that,” you smirked. Spencer let out an involuntary whimper at your words. Without thinking, he pressed the emergency stop on the elevator.

“There,” he said, looking at you desperately, “now you can.”

“Spencer,” you laughed in amusement at how rash he was being. You loved this side of him, but you would never let him know that.

“Please,” he begged. “I- I know it’s not what either of us had planned, but we can still have a romantic night, and it’s either this or I’m going to get myself off in the bathroom because I’ve been thinking about that little lacey thing that you call undergarments all day a-and I’m pretty sure Derek noticed because I went to get some coffee and when I sat back down he kept smirking at me and-”

“Spence, baby, okay,” you said, running your hands over him, trying to calm his breathing. “I’ll help you take care of that.” He smiled and gave a thankful sigh of relief. You cupped his cheek and brought him in for a tender kiss. His hands found their way back to your chest, but you smirked, pulling them off. Spencer let out a disgruntled sigh, just wanting to see his beautiful girlfriend. “But that,” you placed a kiss to the back of each of his hands, “is for tonight.”

“Okay,” he conceded, desperate to get off and get to lunch.

“Okay,” you smiled, looking into his loving eyes. “How do you want me to do this?” you asked, running your hands along the collar of his shirt.

“Can you suck me off?” He looked at you with wide eyes filled with nothing but love and desire. “Love how you feel around me.”

“Anything for you baby.” He gave you a tender smile, and you pressed a kiss to his lips, trailing your hands down to his waist. He helped you unbuckle his pants as you sunk to the ground. You placed a gentle peck to his clothed cock and felt him twitch beneath you. Feeling your hands take him out of his boxers, he flung his head back, whimpering in anticipation. You placed a few kisses on the tip of his cock before licking up the precum leaking out of it. His moans filled the walls of the elevator when you took him into your mouth, bobbing your head back and forth.

“Fuck, (Y/n)- thank you-” he huffed, “feels so good baby.” You moaned around his dick at the praise, feeling your own arousal gathering at your core. You took him all the way in, and Spencer laced his fingers through your hair when you choked around him. “That’s it baby… ughh… just like that- fuck.”

“Use me Spence”, you moaned, coming up for air. Spencer groaned, his grip tightening on your hair. He began to thrust into your mouth, moaning as you gagged around him.

“Shit, I’m- I’m gonna”, he heaved through moans. He felt you nod your head and moan around him, and then he was coming down your throat. His grip on you eased up as you worked him through his orgasm.

After his breathing steadied, he cupped your cheeks and pulled you up into a kiss. His mouth enveloped yours, his tongue caressing yours. He pulled away slightly, placing another peck to your lips before resting against your forehead.

“Thanks,” he smiled, looking into your eyes. “I love you.”

“Anything for you,” you repeated, meaning every word. “And I love you too.” Spencer pulled you into his chest, slotting his head into your neck and peppering your skin with kisses. You giggled, helping him tuck himself back into his pants.

Once you were both situated, you pressed the emergency button again, and the elevator began to move.

“Wait, you didn’t- do you want me to… I mean I’d love to-”

“Spence, it's okay. I’m good just taking care of you.” He gave you a hesitant look, wanting to make sure you felt good too. “Plus,” you said, leaning into him, “I want to wait for tonight. Don’t want to spoil my dinner,” you teased.

“Alright,” Spencer smirked, wrapping his arms around you.

After getting back from lunch, Spencer felt much better. He had filled his stomach and released his previous issue. All he had to do was get through a few more hours and then it was just you and him all night.

Spencer returned to his desk with two coffees in hand. He placed yours down on your desk with a kiss on your cheek before sitting back down across from you at his desk.

“Thanks, babe,” you smiled.

“No problem, love.” You shared a tender look as you both took a sip of your drinks before getting back to your work. Spencer sighed, flipping through his paperwork, wanting to finish as soon as possible.

That was until he heard your hushed voice.

“Spence,” you whispered with a mischievous glint in your eye, “guess what?”

“What?” he giggled, matching your secretive tone.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” he smiled. You gave him a wink before returning your attention back to the stack of paper in front of you. Spencer admired you for a moment longer before getting back to the stack that inhabited his desk.

A few minutes later, he was so focused on his work that he almost forgot about the fact that you were right across from him. That was, until he felt your foot trail up his ankle, pushing up his pant leg. He immediately dropped the file and his eyes shot up to look at you. You, however, were engrossed in your work, completely unphased by what you were doing to Spencer.

“(Y/n),” he whispered.

“What?” you asked, peering up from your desk.

“We are at work,” he pleaded, looking around to make sure no one had noticed her wandering foot.

“I know,” she said, pretending to have no idea what he was talking about. He stifled a grin and got back to work, counting down the minutes until you could be alone.

You waited a minute, making sure Spencer had focused on his work again, before bringing your foot up his leg again. You watched as Spencer brought his mug up to his lips, taking this as your opportunity. You lifted your leg, drawing it up his leg and thigh, stopping when you saw him choke on his coffee and set his mug down.

“(Y/n),” he said with wide eyes. You tried to hold back your smirk, but it was no use.

“Sorry, it’s just, well, you know how tiny my panties are?” Spencer didn’t know what to do. He always knew what to say, but right now, in the middle of the office, surrounded by his friends and co-workers, he didn’t know what to say. So, he just nodded, hoping no one could tell how much he was loving every second of this. “Well,” you drew out, “they are rubbing against me, and I’m just trying to fix it.”

“Oh.” Spencer didn’t know what to do. All he could think about was how wet you were and how he wished he could just rip those panties off of you and take care of you. “I can- I mean… the elevator?” he said, not entirely sure what he was saying.

“No,” you smiled, “I’ll be okay.” Spencer’s mouth was still agape, and he tried to just get back to work, but it was no use, as his eyes were stuck on you. “I just need to,” you brought your foot back up his leg, watching as he squirmed in his seat, “there,” you smiled, dropping your foot. “All better,” you smiled. Spencer stared at you, cheeks and neck flushed.

He stared as you looked back down at your paperwork. He stared as you were filling out a form as if nothing had happened. He stared at the clock, praying that the last hour of the day would hurry up because he loved you and wanted to kiss you and hold you and make love to you. Because you were sat across from him, in the middle of the office, wearing the most beautiful piece of lingerie he had ever seen, and he was the only one who knew because it was all just for him, and it was driving him crazy, and he loved every second of it.

The workday was finally done, and Spencer practically jumped out of his seat, grabbing your bags and ushering you out of the office. You giggled as he pulled you along, speed walking towards the elevator.

When the doors closed, Spencer’s lips found yours, and he began to release every ounce of pent up arousal from the day.

You smiled into the kiss, letting Spencer’s hands roam your body and squeeze and grab wherever he wanted. His mouth latched onto your neck, not caring how many marks he was leaving in his wake because now it was time for his surprise.

When the elevator doors dinged open, Spencer pressed a kiss to your temple and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest.

“So,” you said, bumping your shoulder into his as you walked to the metro station, “what’s the plan for dinner, besides me,” you joked. Spencer smiled, pulling you closer into him.

“You’ll see,” he smiled. “Wouldn’t want to spoil your dinner,” he teased with raised eyebrows. You playfully rolled your eyes and chuckled, holding his hand as you walked down the stairs at the metro station.

The entire ride to dinner, Spencer’s hand rested on your thigh and your head on his shoulder. Moments like these were always your favorite. You always swore you could live a complete and content life just sitting with Spencer. And you knew he felt the same, so long as he had a book he could read to you.

“We’re here,” Spencer whispered, waking you from your relaxed state. You nodded, getting your bearing as you took his hand and stood up.

“Guess what?” he asked as he led you down the road to the restaurant.

“What?” you smiled.

“I love you,” he gleamed, looking into your eyes

“I love you too.” You kissed underneath his jaw, letting out a giggle.

“What?” he inquired, wishing he could listen to the sound of your laugh for the rest of his life.

“You still love me? Even though I teased you all day?” Spencer laughed and nodded his head.

“Especially because of that,” he said, bringing your joined hand up to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. You smiled, relaxing into his touch.

“Where are we going?” you asked, noticing you could see the water in the distance.

“Right,” he drew out, pulling you towards a restaurant that sat on the water, “here.”

“Spence, this place is beautiful.” You admired the nautical decor and string lights that hung above your head as Spencer held the door open for you.

“Reid for two,” he said to the hostess.

“Right this way Dr. Reid,” she replied, leading you both through the restaurant. You followed behind Spencer, holding his hand as you walked towards a door at the back of the restaurant. The hostess led you outside and onto a small pier that appeared to be their outdoor seating. However, there was only one table set up, with rose petals covering the ground and a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket on the table. Your eyes lit up, watching how the calm water reflected the setting sun.

Spencer pulled your chair out for you, and you sat down, completely in awe. The hostess left you, and Spencer sat down, reaching for the bottle of champagne. You watched him, completely enamored by the amber glow that filtered through his amber curls.

“Spence,” you said, taking a full glass from him, “this is amazing.” You looked at your beautiful boyfriend and didn’t know how you got so lucky. “Thank you, for everything.”

“Anything for you,” he smiled. You clanked your glasses and took a sip, reveling in the feeling of Spencer running his thumb across the back of your hand.

The two of you enjoyed a lovely dinner over the sunset and into the starry night sky. You talked and laughed, a smile never leaving either of your faces.

When the dessert came out, you thanked the waiter, waiting for him to leave before you gave Spencer a slight pout.

“What's wrong?” he asked, setting down his spoonful of ice cream.

“I thought I was your dessert,” you teased. Spencer let out a small laugh and bit his lip.

“You are, baby, don’t worry,” he brought your hand to his lips and left a chaste kiss in their place. “Good,” you smiled, placing a spoonful of vanilla ice cream in your mouth. You purposefully let a little dribble down your chin and let out a moan that was normally only saved for Spencer’s ears when you were in the comfort of your bed at home.

“Now that’s not nice,” Spencer groaned, watching as you licked the melting ice cream from your mouth.

“Well then come get your dessert.” Spencer looked you in the eyes for a moment, debating his options. Abruptly, he stood up, walking towards the door.

“Where are you going?” you asked.

“To pay the bill,” he said, rushing through the door. You chuckled to yourself, excited to get home.

Spencer raced you up the stairs of your apartment building, both of you desperate to finally be back in bed together. He fumbled with his keys, trying to unlock the door without detaching his lips from yours. He groaned into the kiss, becoming frustrated with the lock.

“Here,” you mumbled against his mouth. You took the keys from his hand and turned away so you could see the lock. Spencer whined from the loss of your lips but remedied it by kissing behind your ear. You gripped his bicep, wishing he could just take you then and there.

Finally, the door was opened. You walked inside together, Spencer's mouth still latched to your neck. He turned you around, leaning you against the door, causing it to slam shut. You ran your hands through his hair, tugging on the roots. He moaned against your skin, and you felt it in your core. As much as you wanted Spencer to kiss every inch of you, which you knew he would, you needed him.

“Spencer,” you moaned, grabbing at his shoulders. He nodded, understanding what you wanted. He pulled away, but only slightly.

“I got you,” he huskily whispered into your ear. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and nodded. He brought his mouth back to your lips, and walked you into the bedroom, guiding you along the way.

He backed you up into the bed and followed your lips down as you laid back. Coming up for air, he raked his eyes over your disheveled hair and blouse and thought you had never looked more beautiful.

“I’m ready for my dessert,” he pleaded. You smiled and nodded, bringing his hands to your breasts. Spencer smiled and began massaging your tits through your blouse. You leaned your head back, desperate for more. Spencer knew that, so he began unbuttoning your shirt, thankful that his hands were no longer shaking. He sucked on your now exposed skin, leaving marks down your chest as he went. He helped you shrug your shirt off, and his breath caught in his throat.

“Fuck (Y/n).” He traced his fingers along the delicate red lace that covered your nipples, his light touch igniting a fire within you. “Been thinking about this all day.” He brought his mouth back down, running his tongue over your clothed nipples.

“Shit Spence,” you moaned, “need more. Need you.” You felt his smirk on your skin, and then he was unclasping the back, exposing your breasts to him. He took one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your nipple, while his hand came up to your other one, switching between flicking and massaging.

He switched positions, making sure to pay the other one equal love. Your moans filled the room, as you rubbed your thighs together, desperate for some relief. You wrapped your legs around Spencer’s waist, begging him to come closer.

“Is my dessert nice and wet for me?” His mouth kissed down your stomach, his fingers trailing behind.

“Yes,” you whimpered. His fingers gripped your waist, holding you in place as he kissed along the waistband of your panties. He placed a kiss on your clothed clit and you bucked your hips up, wanting more. He ran his finger over your partly covered pussy moaning at how wet it was. “Is this what was bothering you earlier?” he asked, rubbing the soaked lace against you even more.

“Yes,” you panted, shaking your head.

“You want me to help? Want me to take them off, baby?” he asked, his cheek leaning against your thigh as he pressed gentle kisses to your inner thigh.

“Please,” you nodded. He slipped his fingers under your panties, pulling them down at an antagonizing slow pace. When they were finally off, you clenched, loving the feeling of the cool air and his hot breath mixing on your sensitive skin.

“Baby you are so pretty,” he praised. He ran his fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal on his fingers. He put his fingers in his mouth, moaning around them as he cleaned them off. “You taste so good, baby. All for me.”

“Please, Spence.” You bucked into the air, craving his mouth on you. He happily obliged, licking a stripe up your folds and sucking on your clit. You writhed beneath him, grasping at the bedsheets. He ran his tongue around your clit, the vibrations from his groans only adding to your pleasure. He brought his fingers back to your center, slipping one inside of you, and pumping it in and out slowly.

“Faster... Unghh- please. Need more.” Spencer sped up his finger, adding a second. He curled them, hitting your spot perfectly. You screamed out in pleasure, only causing him to go harder. He continued his thrusts, grazing his teeth over your clit in the process.

“Fuck, Spence. Don’t- don’t stop… yeah, just like that.” You grabbed onto his hair, pushing him further into you. Feeling the knot build, you wrapped your legs around his head, grinding onto his face. With a final graze of your clit, you were coming, and Spencer worked you through it, lapping up your release on his mouth, not wanting to waste a drop of his dessert.

When you came down, Spencer removed his fingers from your center, causing you to groan from the sensitivity. He came and sat next to you on the bed, bringing his fingers to his lips once again. You watched him above you, and you swore it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. His lips were shiny with your release, and they looked so pretty, all plump and wet, and you wanted them on you. Reaching for him, you brought his lips to yours and tasted yourself on him. His tongue explored your mouth, coating every inch in yourself.

Without breaking the kiss, Spencer helped you sit up and placed you in his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you complained, pulling at the collar of his shirt. Spencer nodded and you began unbuttoning his shirt. Yearning to occupy his mouth, while he waited for you to finish, Spencer brought your tit into his mouth, sucking on the soft skin. You felt your arousal come flooding back, and you ground your hips into his lap.

Pushing off his shirt, you placed a string of kisses along Spencer’s collar bone, making your way back up his neck and stopping when you reached his forehead. Spencer then brought your other breast into his mouth and you flung your head back, pulling him further into you, burying his head in your chest. You felt his fingers run along your back, tracing every curve of your body. You shifted on top of him, placing your drenched pussy on top of his clothed crotch. The feeling of his dress pants on your exposed clit felt amazing and you couldn’t help but grind down hard on him, chasing your impending release.

Noticing you were close based on your shallow breaths, Spencer brought his hands to your waist, pushing you against him, helping you finish. With a few more thrusts, you were coming undone on top of him, soaking his pants in the process.

“That was so hot baby,” Spencer groaned, kissing your neck. Your head rested on his shoulder and you smiled, trying to regain your strength.

“You feel so good,” you praised, “but, I need you. Need your pants off,” you panted. Spencer obliged peppering your face with kisses as he unbuckled his pants and slid them off with his boxers. You sat up, allowing him to shimmy out of them. His cock sprang free, resting against his stomach. You groaned, loving the way he would always get so hard because of you.

You began to bend down, wanting to take him in your mouth, but before you could, his arms were around you pulling you back up. You gave him a confused look, but he gave you a sheepish smile and shook his head.

“I won’t last if you do that,” he admitted. You smiled, giving him an understanding nod.

“Can I ride you then?” you asked, looking up at him with wide, lust-filled eyes.

“Please,” he smiled, shifting back against the headboard. You followed him, taking your place in his lap again. He grabbed onto your waist, guiding you up and onto his dick. You ran your wet folds over his tip, watching as he moaned, leaning his head back. Desperate to have him inside you, you sank down, loving the feeling of him filling you up.

Spencer watched as his dick disappeared inside. “So pretty baby.” He kissed your shoulder, waiting for you to move. You began circling your hips, both of your moans filling the room. Once you were ready, you lifted your hips setting a steady pace, bouncing up and down on him.

“Feels so good Spence,” you groaned, resting your hands on his shoulders for support. His head was buried into your shoulder, completely lost in the feeling of you around him. You leaned back a bit, getting a better angle, and felt him go deeper than ever. Screams left your lips, and Spencer took the opportunity to tighten his grip on your hips and began thrusting up into you. The added force only increased your pleasure and you closed your eyes, completely lost in the bliss that was Spencer Reid.

He watched as he pounded into you, loving the way your tits bounced and your mouth was open in pleasure because of him. He brought you closer to him, wanting to feel your skin against his, and the new angle made it so he was hitting your spot every time. You clenched around him, feeling your orgasm growing.

“Shit (Y/n),” he groaned, “do that again.” You smiled, clenching around him again, wanting him to feel as good as he was making you feel. “Fuck- I’m close.”

“Me too.” Spencer brought his hand down and rubbed your clit. “Yes, yes, don’t stop Spence- ughh… don’t stop.” He would never stop, he loved you too much to ever stop. He would do this for the rest of his life. He would never stop.

With another thrust, Spencer felt you clenching around him and felt your thighs shake. He continued to rub your clit helping you down from your high as he chased his own. All it took was a few more thrusts and you moaning his name in his ear, and he was coming. You felt hot ropes of his come inside of you and you moaned, loving the feeling of your juices mixing together.

Spencer’s arms wrapped around your back and you snuggled into his neck, not daring to leave your position on his lap.

Spencer grabbed the blankets, pulling them around your still connected bodies. You snuggled into him, relishing in the feeling of him inside you and keeping you full.

“Thank you,” Spencer said, kissing your lips. “I love you so much,” he mumbled into your mouth.

“I love you too.” You rested your head on his forehead, the two of you lost in each other's eyes. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Spencer.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, (Y/n).” He pressed a gentle peck to your lips before snuggling into you. “You’re going to have to wear that more often,” he murmured while succumbing to sleep.

“That can be arranged,” you smiled, closing your eyes. Spencer grinned, falling asleep in your arms, because he knew you loved him and he loved you, and it was all for him.

tag list: @muffin-cup @drreidsboyband @boxofsparklingmuses @deetle625 @vladsgirlxx @you-sunshine

if you would like to be added please fill out this form! link also in bio, thanks for reading!

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harrysddtittys · 3 years

Note

Could you maybe write something where Harry is a single father to maybe a girl. And just write how he’d deal with her terrible twos. Like from morning to night or something like that? 🥺

wow i finally got a requestttt!!! here you go! I know nothing about young children, so i don’t even know if this is an accurate description of a 2 y/o lol. but i hope you like it <33

Warnings: fluffff, dadrry, most likely some typos :)

Masterlist ❣︎ Requests

Piece of work

“Oh my God, Lani.” Harry groaned, groggily, as he was pulled out of his sleep by his daughter sitting on his back and yelling “Daddy, wake up!” in an playful voice. As much as he tries to pretend to not to like being woken up so obnoxiously every morning, they both know he loves for the first thing he hears every day to be his little girl yelling in his ear.

He lays there for a couple more minutes, wanting to sleep for a little bit longer, but gives up when he realizes she’s not going to be quiet until he gets up. “Okay, okay. I’m awake. Calm down.”

When he says that, she immediately gets off his back so that he can sit up, sitting next to him. He looks over at her. She’s wearing a random shirt of her’s that she doesn’t really wear other than to sleep, and her pull-up that she wears to prevent wetting the bed at night, and she has a head full of curly, unruly hair. He just smiles, so in awe of the fact he helped create something so beautiful.

Fatherhood was by far the best thing that ever happened to Harry. The second he looked his little girl, Alani in the eyes, he instantly felt the connection. He loves her with his entire being. But she can definitely be a lot to handle

She turned two not even three months ago. Harry Honestly thought the “terrible two’s” stage was a myth. Boy, was he wrong. The tantrums hit like lightning. Not only is she in her terrible two’s, but she’s naturally very stubborn, and sassy. She definitely got that from him. He swears she’s a 13 year old in a 2 year olds body.

“G’morning, bug.” He says, sitting up slowly because of the stiff joints from not moving much all night. “Good morning, daddy!” She squeals excitedly. Once he’s fully sat up, Alani jumps on him, throwing her tiny arms around him, causing Harry to chuckle. She gets so excited when he wakes up for the day.

He wraps his arms around her and squeeze her lightly, but grunting as if he’s squeezing her as tight as he can, making her giggle. “Did you sleep good?” He questions, quietly. “Yeah.” She mumbles, feeling so content where she is, like in her dad’s arms is the best place in the world. “V’got some things to do today. Y’wanna go run some errands with daddy?” This causes her to pull away from him with with wide eyes, nodding eagerly. The biggest smile spreads across Harry’s features. “Yeah?” Which she responds to by nodding again.

“Then we gotta get ready, bub. Y’hungry?” He asks to which she responds with a simple “Yes.” “Alright let’s go eat.” When he says that, Alani gets down off the bed, before sprinting out of his room, and toward the kitchen full speed. “Stop running!” He slightly scolds, hearing her tiny feet padding down the hallway at a much slower speed than before.

He always gets so nervous when she’s running around, but especially when she’s running in the house. She’s so wild and crazy, yet so clumsy. Constantly falling, and running into things. She rarely actually gets hurt. Most of the time she moves on from it like nothing happened. But it scares the absolute shit out of Harry every time.

When he enters the kitchen, he sees Alani standing next to the counter. As soon as he’s in her line of vision she starts pointing to the box of cinnamon toast crunch. “Daddy, this?” with pleading eyes. Harry just laughs. He doesn’t let her eat those than often for breakfast, because of how sweet they are, choosing to fix something on the healthier side for them to eat instead. But today he figured it wouldn’t hurt to let her have a little bowl of it before the day starts.

He goes over to the little girl who is still aggressively pointing at the box of cereal, ending down to pick her up. “Alright, alright. Hold you’re horses, will you?” He coos softly. He gently sits her down on at the kitchen table before returning back over to the counter. He opens the cabinet, pulling out a small bowl. When he’s finished making her cereal, he grabs her one of her baby spoons before serving it to her. “Thank you!” she says loudly. “You’re welcome, princess.” he chuckles.

Harry doesn’t like cinnamon toast crunch, it’s way to sweet for him. He decides he’ll just pop a bagel in the toaster and call it a day.

* * *

Once they’ve finished breakfast, they got completely ready for the day, and we’re soon ready to head out. Harry turns around to look at his daughter. She’s dressed in a denim dress, with a white t-shirt underneath, and white tennis shoes. Her hair’s brushed up into two sleek pigtails, which he’d become a pro at over the past couple years. Harry decided on a white t-shirt with a gray pair of pants. “Y’ready t’go, love?” he asked, feeling around his pockets to make sure he had everything. “Mhm!”

once they’re out to the car, Harry straps Alani into her car seat in the back, peppering kisses all over her tiny face once she’s all buckled in. “Daddy!” She squeals. Giggling, he closes the door, and goes around to the drivers side, getting in and powering the car on. “Alright, let’s roll.” he sighs, turning around to back out of the driveway.

They needed to stop at the grocery store, just to stock up on some things they needed around the house. So that’s where they were headed to now.

“Daddy, look! Red!” Alani exclaimed, pointing at the red car that was next to them. “Yes, that is red, baby, good job!” Harry beams. “Y’so smart.”

They continue driving toward their local grocery. Harry looks into his rear view mirror to check in Alani, and catches her staring at him. She’s always staring at him. It seems to be her favorite thing to do. He pulls the silliest face he could think of, causing her to burst into laughter. Harry laughs right along with her. Her laugh is so contagious. “Do it again!” She giggles. Harry happily obliges, pulling the goofy face once more, causing her angelic little laugh to engulf his ears.

After a little while of driving, they finally reached their destination, pulling into the grocery store parking lot. Alani watches her dad get out of the car, patiently waiting for him to make his way around to her side to get her out of the car. Soon enough, he does, taking her out of her cars seat and carrying her on his hip as the go into the store.

* * *

“Daddy, Daddy! Can I have that?” Alani asks loudly, pointing to something. “Shhh, you have to use your inside voice, darling.” Harry reminds her gently. He looks over to where she was pointing and not to his surprise, he sees a doll on the shelf. He’s grown to hate telling her no, but they didn’t come for toys, and she has more than enough at home already. “No, my love. Not today.” Her face immediately dropped. “But… but please?” She whines, her lip quivering. Harry hates that she’s disappointed but he knows he can’t give in. “No, baby. You don’t have to cry. Just not today, okay?” he says gently.

That doesn’t help, considering her whimpers are quickly turning into loud wails, and he knows the meltdown is coming. “Lani, it’s okay. You have plenty of toys at home to play with.” he try’s to reason but it doesn’t stop the tears that are slowly rolling down her face, and the loud, attention drawing cries. People were starting to look, and Harry was starting to get frustrated, but she was only 2. He knew she was still learning how to deal with her emotions. But when your kid is having a complete meltdown, and screaming in the middle of a store over a doll, that’s definitely a bit annoying.

Harry leans down to be face to face with her in her, who’s seated in the cart. “Alani, I know you’re upset, but you’re not going to scream.” He says softly, but slightly sternly. She looks at her dad, still crying but visibly calming down. Harry waits for her whines to die down completely before asking her “Are we okay now? Can we keep shopping?” to which she responds to with a nod.

After picking up just a few more essentials, they’re in line, waiting to check out. Harry looks down at Alani, realizing she’s been pretty silent ever since she stopped crying. He sees her with the all too familiar scowl on her face, with a pout of her lips. “Why are you looking so evil, bub?” Harry asked, with a gentle shake of his head. She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t need to because he already knows she’s mad at him for refusing to buy her a doll.

He just rolls his eyes and try’s not to laugh. She really is something else. But he knows that she’s genuinely mad at him and him not taking her seriously will set her off again.

Eventually, they make their way up to the front of the line to check out, and soon enough their heading back out to the car. Harry looks at her, as he’s loading all the groceries into the trunk of his car to see that she still has the same mean look on her face. “Y’gonna stay mad at daddy all day, huh?” He teases her solely for his own enjoyment, knowing she’s much to busy trying to have an attitude to laugh at anything he says. She nods silently, still refusing to speak to him. Harry can’t help but laugh at that, knowing that wasn’t true in the slightest. “Y’have to learn t’take ‘no’ for an answer, baby love.” He sighs.

When they’re in the car in the way home, Harry looks at her in the mirror, pulling some silly faces like he was doing earlier. She sees him, and while she was still trying to hold her angry face, he can see the smile tugging at her lips. He doesn’t stop until her scowl is completely replaced by a smile, her beautiful laugh ringing through his ears, making his heart flutter with joy.

“Ahhh, I thought you were mad!” Harry laughs, causing her to laugh along with him, knowing she failed her attempt at holding a grudge on him. “Are we gonna be friends again?” Harry asks jokingly. “Yeah, we’re friends again!” Alani states matter of factly, causing Harry to chuckle.

This child really was a little piece of work, but he loves her nonetheless.

“Good.”

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slutfor-fictionalmen · 3 years

Text

¥ Pretty boy ¥

Rich! Izuku midoriya x F! Plus size! reader

Hi everyone!!! this is part of @bakugohoex‘s Collab, you should check the rest of the collab and her works out!!! enjoy!!

Izuku comes from a rich family, owns lavish cars and houses upon houses but all he really wants is you. You come from a humble background, refusing wealth but dealing when izuku wants to spoil you. Izu can literally fuck you anywhere because he is that rich; Nsfw, Fluff, public sex(kinda), smut(kinda? dom izu), reader is kinda a cheapskate.

Sorry it’s so bad; I may continue/ revise based on how this is taken!

“Oh, come on, Y/n! It’ll be so fun, I promise! it’s just one trip; you won’t feel like you did last time!” Memories of the past trip flash through the shapely woman's mind: paparazzi, lavish hotels(yes hotels, he wanted a different view every night), thousand dollar meals, designer boutiques, everything that you had avoided in your life as a pro hero was ironical, as it was all tackled at once.

You loved your boyfriend, and you admire his willingness to give, but this was the main reason you gave a lot of your earnings to health organizations and hotlines, you didn’t feel you needed the money, you were doing just fine without it, eating at home, carpooling to save on gas, helping out at your apartment to get a bit taken off of your rent. But Izuku was born into a life of wealth. Heir to the Yagi fortune, but despite his wealth, you wouldn’t know he was wealthy by simply meeting him.

“Oh, don’t patronize me izuku, you know I would hate that trip, I always hate overly expensive trips, I could get the same trip through my booking sites for half the price, and you know that!” You huff leaning over to fold your laundry. Izuku walks behind you, placing his large hands on your hips and leaning his head on your shoulder. You could feel his pleading look without even looking at him.

“Indulge me, baby. I promise I won’t make it too expensive,” You felt him kiss at your neck, making you sigh until he let out the final part of his argument, a simple,” Please?” You took his hands off your hips and walked away. Izuku sat defeated until he heard you rustle around, cursing as you made a mess of your once clean closet, and came back into the room with a defeated look and a suitcase. “How long are we going for?” Izuku smiled widely and spun you around, his eyes full of love.

----------------time skip to the day of the plans----------------

You gave yourself one last look in the mirror before sighing, regretting agreeing to this trip as you fix your sundress, admiring how the fabric hugs your soft curves perfectly. You knew this vacation would be perfect, that you would love it, but your stubborn mind wanted to fight the potential enjoyment.

Your mouth turned bitter as you internally fought with yourself, going from a fight of stubbornness to a battle against your self-confidence. Your mind picked on everything that wasn’t on your mind before as a deflect of being questioned. Your unpleasant thoughts were interrupted by a certain green-haired man as he walked into the room, stunned at how beautiful you looked in that dress. Distracted by the unmistakable twinkle in his eyes, your thoughts soon disappeared and were replaced with wonder.

“What’re you looking at?” He shook himself out of his trance to approach you with a smile. “Just looking at my beautiful baby girl in that dress, she so horribly fought me on. You look gorgeous, by the way.” His rough hands were felt through the sheer material of the outfit as his thumbs rubbed gentle circles on your wide hips.

You smiled softly and kissed his cheek, looking into his eyes. “Are you ready to go? Cause one more minute, and I may just back out of this.” His eyes go wide as he pulls away and rushes to get everything in the car. Your chuckles are short-lived as he soon comes back and picks you up. “You’re the last thing I need so we can go” you squeak as you remember this man can lift nearly 300 pounds. Why shouldn’t he lift you? Still, every time he lifts you, it comes as a surprise.

He quickly sets you into the car, alarming you with the fact that the driver isn’t any driver at all, it’s one of his close friends, todoroki, and this isn’t even your car; it’s his. “I figured we didn’t need to use the driver and waste money on parking, todo’s gonna drop us off, and I’ll have the driver pick us up after!” Your eyes watered, you knew that the rest of the trip would be extravagant but it was these little things that made you fall in love with him, over and over again. You sat with your hand in his all the way to the airport. You were excited to see new places but dreading the paparazzi.

You stood out of the car, taking in the cool breeze and walking around the car to get to the bags in the back. You bring both of your bags out, along with your carry-ons, and wait for him to finish his conversation with his friend to come to collect his bags. You hear izuku bid him farewell and thank him for the ride before he slips a 20 for gas in his friend’s car and walks to you. “Now don’t be mad...” His eyes shift when he bows his head, preparing to be lectured,” I got first class, and I know you don’t-” You laughed, only calming to rub his shoulder with a smile. “It’s ok! I’ll let it pass.... for now. Now, let’s get our free drink on!”

You’re the first to board, ignoring the dirty looks from the other passengers; you made a vow to enjoy this time.... for izuku’s sake. Your smile didn’t falter, even when the check-in lady gave you a surprising look when you gave her the ticket. You walked onto the plane with confidence; izuku could only say that you looked as if you were born for this… that you belonged here. Your Seats were opened to each other, making a two-bedroom cabin area.

You let izuku walk past you to put your bags to the side and look at the menu. One thing you could never understand is his appetite, he eats more than a group of teenage boys, and he still keeps fit, even if he doesn’t work out. You never found that fair. You shook your head out of the thoughts and sat next to him, searching the tv for a decent channel. You shut off the tv when you saw the news about a new villain, suddenly stressing about the city and what’ll happen if you leave. Your mind flooded with thoughts of the places you love on fire, the people you loved killed and showed as a warning to all the other heroes.

Luckily Deku, who had just finished ordering pretty much the whole menu, sensed your sudden situation and reached over you, pulling the leaver to set your seat back. The sudden movement knocked you out of your daze, causing you to look at the man perched above you with a frustrated look on his face. “You have just been a whirlwind of emotions today, haven’t you? You refuse to calm down; the city will be fine, it’s only a week, and we’re not even going that far!” “but-” “No buts! You don’t want to make me sad, do you?” You sigh, realizing that it was highly improbable for that to happen while you were gone, but that didn’t stop you from worrying. Despite that, you sucked it up, deciding that you might as well enjoy these trips before something happens, after all hero business is very dangerous.

“No Izuku, i don’t” He tilts your chin in order for your eyes to reach his. “Izuku? Really? You know that’s not what i want to hear princess.” You suddenly realize the shift of atmosphere, Izuku’s eyes darkened. “No daddy.” “Good girl.”

He lets his hand drag to the bottom of your dress, pushing up the tinted fabric as he moves his hand to rest on your thigh. Your thighs clench unintentionally when he reaches for the top of your underwear, flinching when he snaps the fabric back onto your skin.

You weren’t used to your soft lover taking the lead, you were the one who took control. You usually calmed your own nerves, with him of course. But you couldn’t think, you couldn't take control, you just had to let him help you, clear your mind and calm you.

You couldn’t help but shiver at the look in his eyes when he’s in control. His eyes darkening,a small glimmer in his eyes is still present but he looks….. Animalistic. You slide your underwear off of your plush form, confidently as he watches you with a ever-growing tent in his pants.

Izuku reached out to your body, holding your soft hip as he moves to slide his form between your thighs. “I don’t think i can be patient much longer beautiful, i may just fuck you like this.” He cups your cheek and uses his thumb to play with your lip, testing how far he can go before sticking his finger in your mouth. You obediently suck on it, watching him bite his lip and shift away to get undressed. “Who says i don’t want you to?”

He quickly takes off his shirt, his scars and freckles littering his tan skin. Izuku's pants are soon to follow allowing his cock to tap his stomach. You always loved how easy it was to get him to get hard, he was always ready for you to fuck him, ready to make love at the mere thought of your full, soft form.

You heard izuku whisper a quick ‘fuck it’ before he grabbed your thighs, wrapping them around his hips and grinding softly onto your soft cunt. Your soft moans fueled the burning fire of his. He grabbed his shaft, lining himself up with your weeping hole. He kissed you deeply before pushing into you, his lips muffling your sweet moans.

His cock throbs as he patiently waits for you to adjust to his girth. Your hips ache, already feeling the pressure of your current activities take it’s toll on your body. Your minds begins to flood with need, processing just how close izuku is, how his muscles feel under your finger tips, how he reacts when you experiment with tightening your smooth walls around him. He waits for you to move, slightly wiggling your hips, before he gives into the feeling, whimpering and keeping a steady pace.

You feel his tip brush against your sweet spot with every thrust, unraveling quicker then you would have liked. Izuku’s blush reaches onto his chest as you moan into his ear, teasing him. He speeds up, ramming into your sweet spot, causing that knot in your stomach to tighten before he shifts to rub at your clit sloppily, letting out lewd noises and tipping you over the edge. Your body freezes, a shaking gasp falling from your lips as you arch your back and your walls flutter and tighten around izuku’s dick. He’s soon to follow, spilling his load over your soft stomach before slowly pulling out and flopping onto his bed besides you.

“That’s one great way to start a shitty trip.” You laugh looking over into his forest eyes. Izuku grabs your hand, kissing your palm and giving you a small smile. “Or just a wonderful way to start a potentially amazing trip. You promised you’d let me spoil you this time, so let me use my money to give you comfort. Ok?” You nod, adjusting your seat to be upright again, and lean over to the champagne. The view out the window is something of beauty as the clouds fold into each other and the sky casts a pink, soft hue onto the white canvas.

Izuku grabs himself a glass, leaning his seat all the way back and putting a complementary eye mask on.

“And besides, the more money we pay, the less people will care where we fuck each other.” He was born into this life, born for it. He was used to this and could be for the rest of his full life.

But izuku would do anything just to be by your side. That’s one thing he can’t pay for.

#izuku midoriya x reader #plus size reader #izuku midoriya x plus size reader #plus size!reader #izuku midoriya #mha x reader #mha x chubby reader #bnha imagines #smut #fluff

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dourpeep · 3 years

Note

Omfg I hate burning my tongue. I made some cookies recently, and got impatient… I’m sure you know what happens next

BRO THAT ALBEDO FANART HNNNNNNNNGH honestly, soft dudes with a more alternative/grunge-y style are honestly my weakness (despite wearing very bright and cute clothes—think decora kei but not as hardcore). But dammit tattoo artist!Bedo brainrot

Just, you go to his shop, wanting to just inform yourself and so on, but you leave with an entire tat on your ankle because the artist’s lil sis told you that “big bro makes reaaaaaally pretty pictures! And he’s so nice, you will love him!” And oh boy, we’re you enamored, and not only with the quick sketch he presented you when you told him what you had in mind.

You needed a mini job anyways, and ask whether you can help out around the shop since 1. The atmosphere is nice and the place is close to yours and 2. Hello? Cute ass colleague? However, your small aesthetic crush morphed into full on pining after seeing Albedo being so soft around his sis, and creating beautiful designs inspired by every customers liking 24/7.

Nonetheless, you were getting confused by him. Was he into you, or why did he buy you a coffee when you came in that morning, with the sweetest note attached to it? Why did he go out of his way to quell all your curiosities (big brain = hot)? Why does he gaze at you with those soft teal orbs, when you haven’t been close for this long yet?

His acquaintances muse that he’s generally a clueless guy when it comes to relationships, whether they are platonic or romantic, and he does tend to give off wrong signals because of that. So far, he rejected everyone who came at him with a gentle smile, apologizing for his tactlessness.

And yet, you could feel that there’s more to it in your case… but you didn’t wanna stick your head in the clouds and get the wrong idea. However, Klee is right there to tell you just how much he’s been talking about you! She ends up asking him whether you can go home with them, because she really wants you to bake for her (one of the single skills that Albedo was not blessed with), and there, as you three stand in the kitchen….

“I’ve never heard big bro talk so much about anyone before… I’m glad big bro likes you soooo much! I really want a big sis!”

Hehe, this is so cute, fuck. I want a bf now :(((

I agree anon, I too long for a significant other-

Kinda.

I think it'd be nice to have someone to cuddle and smooch, though.

And I agree--I'm so weak for soft dudes with grungy vibes Xiao. Like...seeming tough?? Being tough?? But also having a gentle and sweet personality? Please, sign me up.

I personally dress in comfy sweaters + skirts or grunge (but pretty loosely so). There's no in-between.

Wait also might I have a cookie?

I love the idea of Klee basically just hanging out at the shop too hahaha, leave it to Albedo to have both a very steady hand and be responsible enough to take care of an active little girl while working. Props to him, that's for sure. It'd also be cute if the customers can have her pick their tattoo-

Dodoco would unintentionally become a 'thing' at the shop.

That being said, Albedo as your boss (but, as always, please just call him Albedo. You're around the same age anyway and this is a small family-owned place, after all)? He'd be attentive and rather sweet.

Considering that he already does hold a soft spot towards people and their little habits, the seemingly small moments of joy that spark and the smiles that refuse to leave his customer's faces when they see the nearly finished product--it's not entirely surprising. It's hard to miss the smile on his own face.

Albedo would often give you longer breaks, too. While the tattoo parlor is popular, the foot traffic is low, so there's only ever a customer or two getting worked on at a time along with a few curious peeks now and then.

Not to mention, the artist is also quite the skilled chef. The breakfast sandwich he brought in for breakfast? He made himself.

Of course the coffee he bought on his way in.

Because he usually goes right to sketching and prepping the workspace, he'll always leave the tasty morsels and coffee (or whatever beverage you prefer, to your specifications) right on the counter in the front so you can see it when you walk in for the day.

And as always, there's his name signed with his signature 'solar isotoma' (it's what he calls it, at least) detailing that he took care of breakfast for you and that he hopes you enjoy the simple meal he's prepped this time around.

Things go pretty well for the first few weeks of working!

Lots of satisfied customers, playing with Klee in the shop's downtime, conversing with Albedo, or just sitting in silence. You've noticed that he asks quite a bit about your likes and dislikes. Though...you just assume it's because he's not the best conversationalist.

After all, while he's incredibly attractive and his charm is undeniable, the man struggles to strike conversations with his clients and opts for encouraging them to take the reins.

Not to mention the cute blush on his cheeks and gently worded declinations he's had to do often--

You wonder if he's already seeing someone.

Honestly, standing in the kitchen in his apartment should've made you realize how dense you are yourself.

Especially when Albedo is right besides you, elbows nearly touching as you walk through the steps of making a cake with him. His hands are covered in various amounts of flour and batter after a little mishap and Klee is eagerly peeking over the countertop.

Though he's dressed down in a plain tee and sweatpants, his hair down and much longer than you expected, you can still sense the way he's so very concentrated on the task at hand. Like he doesn't want to mess it up. It's cute.

When the cake is finally in the oven, Klee speaks up with her face and hands pressed against the viewing window.

"Big brother likes you soooooo much!"

And suddenly, when your eyes meet wide teal ones, it clicks.

His sweet notes and breakfast on him, the several careful sketches of you placed alongside the ones he does of his clients, how he often invites you over to his apartment over the weekends and after work.

Albedo finds himself shyly looking away for the first time.

When the cake is done, the three of you have indulged in the deliciously sweet snack, you help him clean up while Klee goes off to watch a show on the tv.

He's hesitant, visibly so.

"Would you..." Shutting off the water, he pats his wet hands on the front of his shirt. Under the bright florescent of the overhead lights, his eyes seem to shine. "Perhaps like to join me tomorrow on a date?"

#anon asks #modern au #tattoo artist albedo #albedo #albedo simping #genshin impact albedo #genshin impact #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #albedo x reader #klee

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zealoushound · 3 years

Text

Where I Belong

Summary: Your and Mike's son has a bad dream. He wants his father to comfort him. While comforting his little boy he reflects back on his past.

Pairing: Mike/Reader, Mike with his son

Word Count: 1,275

Warnings: none. All fluff. Sweetheart Mikey being a sweetheart dad.

A/N: I really wanted to see Mikey as a father, then suddenly inspiration struck. Mike deserved better so we’re out here giving it to him!

Disclaimer: I do not own Mike, Hellrasier, or Henry Cavill, much to my dismay. Only the kids and the wife are my original creation.

Do not copy any part of my material to use as your own. Do not repost my work, or any portions of my work on any site and claim it as your own. Like all my other fics, this was written on my phone and not beta’d.

***

This work of art right here came from the lovely @luna-aestas Thank you so much for such a beautiful piece!

***

It was 2:13 am according to the alarm clock on your bedside table. Your home was peacefully quiet. Then from the darkness of your bedroom came a small voice. “Daddy?” The voice was very soft, very timid. “Daddy?” The little voice was scared.

You were sleeping peacefully, unaware of the meek little voice calling out for his father. A shaky little hand reached out for his fathers shoulder. Giving him a light shake, he spoke a bit louder this time, with fresh tears falling from his eyes, “Daddy?”

Mike woke from a dream of his own. His reality went from losing his swimming trunks at the water park he used to frequent in his childhood, to the familiar darkness of his current bedroom that he shared with his wife of five years. There was a dim nightlight by the door, and one in the hallway for your son to be able to see his way around if needed, but otherwise nothing except the orange glow of the street light down below between the slits in the blinds of your window by the bathroom.

“Daddy?” Mike took in a sharp inhale of breath through his nose, letting his eyes adjust.

“Adam? What’s the matter buddy?” Mike sat up somewhat confused, putting his legs over the edge of the bed, and picked up his son. Holding him close as he started to cry harder. “Come on buddy, let’s go to your room so we don’t wake mama.” You were seven months pregnant, and he knew just how precious sleep was to you right now.

Standing up, holding Adam, he threw one arm back to stretch then walked the nervous toddler back to his bedroom. Adam clutching his fathers bare shoulder the entire way. “Tell me what’s wrong buddy.” Mike said, going into Adam's room.

“I have bad dream.” Mike's face fell a bit. He sat Adam down on the bed. Sitting down beside him he watched as the four year old wiped his face with the sleeve of his pajamas.

“I’m sorry kiddo. Wanna tell me what it was about?” Mike brushed his son's unruly curls out of his face.

Adam sniffled. Begrudgingly he began telling his father his nightmare. “There was a bear in my room. Him was a bad bear, daddy.” He looked around like he was looking for the beastly bear to come back. “Him bit me! And him was gonna eat me!”

Mike’s eyes widened in pretend shock, he gasped, “No way! Quick! Let me look at you!” Mike rolled up his son's sleeves, lifted his shirt over his head, tilting him back and forth, inspecting his stomach and back. He rolled up the legs of Adam’s pajamas. Adam was giggling at his fathers reaction. “Phew, no bear bites! Looks like that bear let you go! Musta been scared off cause of these stinky feet!” He crossed his eyes, sticking out his tongue and played dead, flopping back onto the mattress.

“Daddy!” Adam’s laughter filled the room. He laid down with his dad. Mike shifted into a more comfortable position knowing he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. “Tell me a story daddy.”

Mike recanted the age-old story that his grandmother used to tell him about the three bears, but gave it a more happy ending, and made Goldielocks a little boy named Sam. Telling him in the end that the bears all befriended the little boy. He was even invited inside to eat dinner after having help fix the things that he had broken.

“Daddy?” Mike could tell Adam was getting sleepy again.

“Yeah, kiddo?” He was softly running his fingers through his son's hair.

“Do you ever have bad dreams?” Such an innocent question. One that could bring back such dark memories if he were to allow it. Not tonight.

Mike inhaled sharply, remembering the sounds of the shovels digging into the earth to free him; the scraping of metal against wood. “Yeah buddy, sometimes.” Adam looked up into his eyes as he continued. “Your mom saved me from those dreams though. She made them stop. But when I do have them I just wake her, and she holds me until the monsters go away.” Mike smiled fondly talking about his wife. The mother of the children he never imagined he’d have.

Adam yawned, and smiled. “Close your eyes little guy. That bear ain’t coming back. If he does just feed him some porridge. That’ll make him happy.” Adam closed his eyes and was asleep in minutes.

Mike stayed awake a little bit longer thinking about his family. Thinking what would have happened had that officer not realized what was going on at that house that night. He had never thought he’d be so grateful to see the inside of an ambulance. That was the night he met you.

You weren’t even supposed to be working that evening. You had pulled a double because someone was sick. You were the second person he saw that night. When they opened the casket an officer called for help. “We got a live one! Need some help over here!” You were the one to answer that call. You helped pull him from the earth.

Mike fell asleep thinking about seeing your beautiful face for the first time that night. Thinking about the way you gently shushed him, putting the oxygen mask over his mouth and held him to you in the back of that ambulance because he refused to lie down, terrified that if he did he’d end up back in that box. The way your fingers brushed his curls back away from his face.

You woke up that morning around 7:30 reaching for your husband but found only his pillow. You got up slowly, wanting to take care of nature’s business then go looking for him. After washing your hands you walked down the hall to check on your son. The sight that greeted you made you smile wide.

There was no denying Adam was Mikey’s son. They were both on their backs, their right arms were both up and over their heads, the left draped over their stomachs. They were both snoring, both mouths wide open. There were curls everywhere! You went, and grabbed your phone to snap a picture.

“I love you my boys.” You quietly say rubbing your bump. “Little girl these boys are going to be wrapped around your finger I just know it.” You went downstairs to cook breakfast.

Mike joined you in the kitchen not long afterward. Kissing the back of your neck he mumbled a good morning. “Say, do you remember what the first thing I ever said to you was?”

You laughed, “How could I forget?!” You turned away from what you were doing to look at him. “‘Hey sweet cheeks, you always look this good saving lives?’” Mike laughed at you when you tilted your head like he did when he flirted. “To which I responded, ‘normally no, but you making me roll around in all this dirt gave me a more natural look.’”

You touched his face as his hands caressed your full abdomen. His little girl. “I’m so glad I worked that double. I was so pissed I had to take that shift. Who knew three hours later I’d meet my soulmate.”

Mike hummed, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, closing his eyes in bliss. Some would say it was divine intervention, some would say fate, or it just wasn’t his time, but if anyone asked Mike, he would tell them he didn’t know, and didn’t care all he knew was that he was exactly where he was meant to be.

***

Tag list: (As always if you want on or off please let me know!)

@foodieforthoughts @wendimydarling @hope-to-hell @littlefreya @nuggsmum @killjoy-assbutt-1112 @summersong69 @oddduckthatgirl @christhickevans @winter2112rose @ladycavillry @mary-ann84 @twhstuckylover @cavills-little-princess @luclittlepond

#zealoushound writes #where i belong #mikey hellraiser #mike x reader #mike fan fiction #henry cavill fanfic #soft mikey #comfort fic #dad mike

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

Amazing thank you for considering my request! It’s an Oberyn x reader fic, where they are married but she had been kidnapped and presumed dead till one day he finds her in kings landing as a servant and prisoner to Cersi and the Lannister’s. Then he does whatever it takes to get her back and the rest is up to you! Whatever you want to do I’m fine with.

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3k

Pedro Characters Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

Oberyn sighed as he sat near the fountains in the lush gardens of his Dornish palace. He played aimlessly with a berry in his hand, plucked from the overflowing bowl that had been placed by him.They didn’t taste as sweet as they used to. It was a solemn day for him, and everyone around him knew to stay away and weary of the Prince.

It was your name day today. Your third one since you'd been taken from his clutches.

He still thought of you every single day. Oberyn had searched far and wide, scouring every part of the Seven Kingdoms for you, but he'd never found you again. It seemed like every time he got close or some sort of lead as to where you were everything was ripped away again. It was like you keep slipping through his fingers.

The Prince had been through a torrent of emotions, but at the end of it all, he just missed you. He would have given up again to have you back, even after all this time. Things had never been the same.

»»————-　♡　————-««

A yawn escaped your lips as you tended to the laundry of the royal household. You'd been up since before dawn tending to duties around the Red Keep, and your body was screaming for a nap. But there was no rest for anyone on the small staff and Cersei ensured that you would never be able to have a moment of rest.

It was her, after all, that had ruined your life several years ago when she'd found you at a vulnerable moment and taken you away from Oberyn and Dorne. There had never really been any real reason either - she just had a particular disdain for the prince and would do anything to hurt him as much as possible.

And that had turned into kidnapping and keeping you hostage and in servitude at the Red Keep under a false alias. At first you'd tried to fight, tried to resist, and even run away but you'd never even gotten close. The times you did, or tried to defy her, you were met with grueling and torturous punishments. At some point your heart and spirit had broken, and your body seemed permanently bruised and aching.

You still held out hope that one day you'd see Oberyn again. That one day you would be reunited with your love, in this life of another.

But days like today, your name day, made it hard to keep that hope alive. No one even remembered what day it was - once it had been filled with nothing but love and celebration. Now it was a long day of work, from dawn till dusk and beyond.

"Hey, girl," you cringed at the sound of Cersei's voice. She knew your name but refused to address you by it, "there's more work for you to do. The Prince and his retinue have decided to come for a visit to King's Landing for some round-table discussions. We must prepare. You remember him, right? Of course you do...I doubt you'd forget your husband just like that."

Your shoulders rose and fell with effort as you tried to keep your composure. She was doing this on purpose, every word picked carefully to cause you to suffer. She wanted you to lash out to yell at her so she could get mad back and use it as an excuse for punishment.

And you were tempted, so tempted, to give her a piece of your mind. But you stopped yourself and continued on with your laundry, scrubbing at it as thoroughly as possible. You were not going to give her the satisfaction. You were not going to give her the time of day on your name day.

Instead you tried to conjure up all the happy memories you could, remembering how Oberyn would always go all out on your name day, how he would throw such lavish celebrations and shower in you in love and affection. But not today. Not anymore. But the ghosts of days gone were enough to get you by.

You remained silent, only offering a nod in acknowledgment and eventually she left after informing you of all the things that would need to be done.

Maybe...just maybe you'd get to see your love one last time.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Naturally, the entirety of the Red Keep was buzzing with the arrival of the Dornish Prince, along with other lords from around Westeros; Oberyn was always the star of the show however. When he arrived at the castle, you tried looking everywhere for him, hoping for even a glimpse of his handsome face. Even if you weren’t able to talk to him, you wanted one look - one moment to make sure he was alive and well.

But Cersei, ever the vile and repugnant pseudo-queen, made sure to give you tasks that kept you far, far away from him. She let you get so close, so close to a momentary reunion with your husband before preventing you from seeing him at all. It was hopeless, and the little bit of spark you had left in your soul seemed to dissipate. At one point you were almost positive that you had heard his laughter; a beautiful, warm sound.

You let the memories of those beautiful sounds, how often you heard softly in your ear when you were alone with your husband, get you through it all. You’d resigned yourself to not seeing him going.

But then one evening, you were working late in the kitchens, preparing things for the next day when you were a throat clear from the entrance. Rolling your eyes to yourself, ready to be fully annoyed, you tried and almost stopped breathing when you spotted Oberyn standing there and watching you closely. Your mouth opened and closed your mouth a few times, hardly able to believe your eyes - there he was, your husband, alive and in the flesh.

“Pardon the interruption,” he sauntered in, robes swirling behind him as he approached you, “I know it’s late, but I was wondering if you had any spare berries or other fruit.”

“O-Oberyn,” your voice cracked as he walked over to him as well, leaving only a small gap between the two of you. His soft, dark eyes studied you intently and you could tell he was processing something. What if...what if he didn’t remember you? But no...he would never forget you, right?”

“Yes,” he laughed lightly, “that’s generally what they call me. I-I’m sorry to be so bold and forward, but you look just like my wife used to.”

“Oberyn,” your lips trembled as you felt the back of your eyes prickle with tears,”i-i-it’s me. It’s me, I swear it, I would never lie to you.”

“I have looked for my wife far and wide for going on three years and have never been able to find her,” he whispered as his voice cracked, “it would be the most cruel joke to play on someone if you did not mean it. P-please tell me you’re not lying - please tell me the gods are not so cruel as to play such a joke on me.”

“My moon and stars,” as soon as the words left your lips, emotion overwhelmed him as his lips trembled with emotion, “it is me, I swear it - your sunshine. Please tell me how I can prove it to you.”

“Tell me the first thing you ever said to me when we met,” his heart was racing with nerves as he tried not to get too ahead of himself, “when I approached you.”

A few years had rolled down your cheeks as you laughed lightly at the memory. Needless to say, when you were first introduced, you had never envisioned yourself loving or marrying him at any point, “you came up to me with so much swagger and you told me your name and then you said although I’m sure you already know who I am. I’m hoping you’ll give me the chance to make a proper introduction in my chambers this evening. You had so much confidence, so much nerve. You were so bold and brash, and yet...I did not turn you down.”

“You did slap me though,” he reminded you as nodded in laughter. As soon as the words had left his lips you had slapped him across the face, surprising both of you. You’d spent that first night, and countless others in his bed, “you always were something else.”

“Oberyn,” you reached up, almost hesitant as you longed to touch his cheek. He did you one better and almost instantly wrapped his arms around you, holding you as tightly as possibly against this body, afraid to ever let you go again. A sob wracked your body as held onto him and buried your face into his chest, “Oberyn, my love. I never thought I’d see you again. I hoped and I hoped and I just never knew. “

“I have never stopped looking for you,” he promised as he pulled back and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, “I never gave up the hope that one day I would find you. I just never expected it to be like this.”

“You found me,” you pulled back and stared at him with wide doe eyes, hardly believing that you were looking into the face of your husband. After all this time, he was still exactly the same as always and gods - you had missed him so much, “I hoped and hoped and hoped that one day I would get to look upon your face again.”

“I will always find you,” he whispered as he placed a chaste kiss to your forehead, “in this life or the next or the one after that. Our souls belong together - I knew few things in life, but this I know.”

“I love you beyond what words could ever describe, my moon and stars,” after all this time, you were still just as in love with him as you had ever been. It was like no time had passed at all, “I’ve been here this entire time. The wretched woman took me - and for what? To make us both suffer all because she cannot stand us and our family. We have what she never will - what she can only dream of - love. True love. Every single day without you has been a cruel sort of torture on its own. I dreamed of you often, and thought of you every day, it was the only thing that got me through the day. My dreams came true.”

“As have mine, my sweetest sunshine,” your prince gently took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. A soft sigh escaped your lips at the intimate gesture, “I will bring you back home with me, I swear it. Back to Dorne - our home, where you belong at my side.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear those words, to go back home for so long,” the images of your golden home in the sun kissed land of Dorne flooded your mind, and a warmth spread throughout your body; home. It was so close, “please don’t leave me here, Oberyn. I cannot bear it another moment, especially now that I know you are alive and well.”

“I will do whatever it takes to bring you home,” there was a searing intensity to his promise as you just nodded at him, already feeling like the weight of the world was off of your shoulders, “we will never be apart again. Go to your chambers and gather anything you have that you might want to bring home with us.”

“It should be but a few moments,” you knew there was just about nothing you desired to bring back; there were a few pieces of jewelry that you’d managed to hide away. One was a beautiful necklace Oberyn had gifted you on a name day shortly after your marriage, along with a set of moon and star rings, “where shall I meet you?”

“Meet me at the gates to the castle,” he instructed as you nodded, “I’ll have Jeron meet you there to protect you. I’ll let them know we are to return to Dorne at once - and that’s after I give the lion queen a piece of my mind.”

“Please be careful, my love,” you were ready to beg him if necessary, afraid that you were going to lose him again, “and hurry.”

“I will see you soon,” he pressed a hurried kiss to your lips as he almost ran in the direction of Cersei’s chambers, “my sunshine.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Oberyn was many things, including rash and stubborn; he’d calmed down over the years, mellowed out with age, but today he saw nothing but blood and fire. The Red Viper didn’t bother to knock on the vicious queen’s doors before barging in. For once there were no guards surrounding her chambers, whether luck or sheer coincidence he didn’t know - or care.

Cersei let out a small shriek of surprise as she looked up from the looking glass atop her vanity. A deep frown formed on her face as she realized it was Oberyn, but before long it turned into a look of sheer, disgusting joy. She knew immediately that he had discovered her wretched secret, “my, my, my. What a most pleasant surprise, from my favorite Dornish Prince.”

“I could - should - kill you for what you have done,” he was seething with rage as his hands flitted to his waist belt and he traced over the dagger at his side. It would have been so easy, so quick to just kill her then and there. He should have done it; gods knew he wanted to. But he stayed his blade, as much as it pained him to do so. But he knew if he did, the consequences would have been much more grave. As such he pushed down his anger and decided to channel the rage into words, “you are the most vile, wretched woman in these Seven Kindgoms, if not the entirety of the world. How dare you try something like - stealing my wife from me for three years. It took me longer than I cared for to find her, but I never would have stopped looking.”

“Consider it a fun little game,” her little smirk was enough to make him reconsider his choice, “and now you’ve won. You can have your pathetic little wife and take her back to that savage land you call home.”

“You dare to speak to me like this,” he approached her, the dagger slipping out of its holster as he clutched it tightly in his hand. Cersei gave him a s sickly sweet smile and he couldn’t stop himself from grabbing her long golden hair in a firm grip, and placing the dagger against her throat. It took her by such surprise that she didn’t have time to react, “you are nothing, Cersei Lannister. Even less than the fleas that live on stray dogs. You will never be a true queen - you are an imposter, a fake. One day everyone will see you for what you are worth, and it will be your undoing. You will be your own biggest downfall and it will be my pleasure to watch your demise.”

“You won’t kill me,” she breathed quietly, feeling the pressure of the knife against her throat. He sighed heavily but made a small sound of agreement.

“You’re right,” he confirmed, “I will dream about it though. I will not be your executioner - that would be a fate much too kind. The death you deserve is far worse than anything I could ever deliver. But let me make one thing extremely clear - if you ever come near my wife, or any of my family ever again, I will not hesitate. This is your one and only warning. She has lost three years of her life because of her twisted little game, and I will not stand for it. You stay out of Dorne and our affairs, and we will stay far from here.”

“You’re weak - a fool,” she insisted with a snarl, “love has made you soft. The Red Viper? What a joke.”

“You’re wrong,” he whispered, “love does not make one weak - it makes them stronger. It is everything. How pathetic and sad that you will never know that.”

Before she could say anything else, he pressed the sharp valiaryn steel against her tender skin and nicked it just enough to draw blood; not enough to do any permanent damage, but enough to leave a lasting impression. As soon as he pushed her away, she clutched at her throat and drew in a ragged breath.

Oberyn stormed out of her chambers as he almost sprinted back to meet you at the entrance to the castle. Despite knowing in his heart that you would be there, he was still nervous for a moment. Until he saw you standing there and waiting, chatting quietly with Jeron, his most trusted companion. His heart melted at the sight; he felt more complete - whole - again.

When you heard him, you turned and offered him the sweetest smile; the same one he had fallen in love with. He rushed to your side as you held open your arms to him and he almost knocked you over in excitement, “my love.”

“Come on, my sweetest girl,” he held you tightly against his chest, “it’s time to go home. Finally. And we are never, ever coming back here again.”

“I love you so much, Oberyn,” you whispered against his lips, “thank you for saving me.”

“Always,” he whispered softly, “I will always find you. I love you more than you will ever know.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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