#not sure i approve of this writing decision but I FUCKING GUESS??????
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so american
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logansargeant posted a new story
hey! this pretty girl has 5 extra songs coming out soon! go stream or else!
liked by lilymhe, maejonesverstappen, logansargeant and others
zoyatorres we're so american
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logansargeant POOKIE I LOVE YOU!
↳ zoyatorres NO POOKIE, I LOVE YOU!
user92 see we knew the song was about him but the caption is still so cute.
lilymhe when is it my turn to get a love song written about me?
↳ zoyatorres this just means alex_albon needs to step up his game!
↳ alex_albon how am i supposed to compete with 'he's like a poem i wish i wrote' i can't!
isabellaperez WRITE A LOVE SONG ABOUT ME NEXT!!
logansargeant keep this shit up and i'm going to marry you
↳ zoyatorres logan sargeant are you proposing to moi?
↳ charles_leclerc i sure hope that's not on how he plans to ask you.
↳ jensonbutton as do i. i taught you better than this logan.
↳ logansargeant IT'S A LYRIC IN THE SONG!
user45 no one is doing it like them.
irisapatow okay, i guess you guys are cute.
↳ logansargeant POOKIE! I GOT THE APPROVAL!
↳ zoyatorres LET'S GO! IRIS I LOVE YOU!
user31 those are my parents guys!! they're so fucking cute!!
user20 it's such a cute love song for a girl who's never released a love song before. (i'm not talking about gross!)
rhysjones just two americans in love, for once. everyone seems to love dating people from different countries.
↳ isabellaperez i would argue against but it seems to be true. they are the only couple from the same country.
oscarpiastri you wrote a love song about the guy who tripped over air and ended up covered in mud before your first date?
↳ logansargeant SHUT UP? THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SECRET?
↳ isabellaperez it's okay logan, he almost shit his pants the first time he met my mom and brother.
↳ oscarpiastri do you hate me?
maejonesverstappen this is so cute. the song is so cute, i'm obsessed one could say.
↳ rhysjones that was a horrible joke, never joke again.
↳ maejonesverstappen i will revoke your paddock passes.
user04 i sincerely hope logan knows how lucky he is to be dating zoya.
↳ logansargeant i am very much aware.
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¡leclerc-s speaks!
i am devastated about what williams decided to do, but that is because i have a soft spot for my fellow american, so this is what happens. it's a little short but that's okay.
lastly, manifesting points for williams tomorrow. hope their decision works out for them.
¡disclaimer!
this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!
#leclerc-s#the honest series#logan sargeant#logan sargeant x female oc#formula 1#formula 1 fic#fanfic#fanfiction#f1#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 instagram au#f1 fic
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SHAMELESS OPINIONS: S7 (cause Mickey's write off hurt and after s5, I watched again from s1 and forced myself to keep watching + no one around me likes Shameless so I need a place to vent)
overall: i actually loved it, had me pretty hooked all throughout
ok, i kind of like s7 Trevor, he's charming, got this lil sassy banter going off, he's cute and nice y'know. I just *HATE* that they so obviously tried to recreate some dynamics he had with Mickey straight away without letting us warmup to him, how can you deepthroat aspects built from 5 seasons into half of one??? No. Sorry. Him settling so quickly into the Gallagher house as if he's spent a decade there, idk. And the patient scene with Ian? foh man, no. 1x09 was special for a reason, and this would've played differently if Ian actually came to Mick if he was still around. They play out so much better as friends or fw/b ig but that deepthroat can't help me see a relationship between them. Not liking s8 Trevor so far, my god. Also his nonchalant attitude towards Monica threw me off. I get it, he's new and doesn't know much, Ian never mentioned her before apparently, but like "she's a lil crazy i can like her" eek, idk. Like almost downplaying his situation with her.
Caleb can suck my ass along with JW and his hate for bisexuals. My bi ass cannot approve. Cheater McCheater my ass. I can almost walk through Ian's ignorance cause for all he knew, Caleb was just gay, and I feel he said the bisexual thing out of frustration and betrayal towards his actions than actual disdain for the orientation, but yes. He was ignorant in his convo with Lip, and so was him anyway. I guess they just didn't know it is a thing. But thing is, I BET YOU ASSES that Caleb is the type of douche to STILL justify his actions even if JW didn't display his hate towards bisexuality in his writing, he just is *that* douchy. At least he motivated Ian to get his job, I'll give him that.
OH MY GOD THE THROUPLE... AND ITS SLOW BURN. it's hard cause you can understand both sides of the situation and it was just a clear issue of misunderstandings and miscommunication... I just wish they could've handled things better because I was really rooting for them. They fucking worked so well, with their little schedules and organization. I have such a fat crush on Isidora it's actually embarrassing. Anyway... I miss their dynamic. They deserved better.
Lip was a dick to Fiona about the Laundromat, but Fiona also just jumps the gut to these impulsive decisions, and I get that if she does ask for opinions, they probably won't agree with her, and it's not like I can blame lip, I mean look at the Club situation, yeah she made profit, but didn't break even, and that where his worry comes from. But at least, if she still approached him, and did it anyway against his say, he can't rub it in her face that this entails a family meeting and she can't just make those decisions without consultation. Overall, Lip was so arrogant and dickish with her, and for what... he couldn't even bring the money he so desperately wanted her to believe he could.
I love Sue. I just love EMT Ian stuff with all my life, idc what it is, I kick my feet cause he's so happy.
I fucking loved Carl and Mr. Luthers dynamic. Such an epic lil duo tbh.
I loved Frank's storyline here fsr 💀💀 it's so silly and he gets his way like always, but idk, I loved seeing his adventures at the shelter, he still remains a POS that's for sure.
I fucking LOVED seeing Debbie this season, I was a little disappointed last season cause there is so much lost potential on her pregnancy journey last time with where she was staying, but I fucking loved her here and putting her scamming skills to the test. Don't love how she ends up treating Neil in s8 cause... Well, I just feel bad for him, but also, if she really wanted to stay true to her convenience relationship, she probably should've stuck it out more so it lasted more, idk. But enough of that, I loved her setting a goal for herself at the end of the season, and I honestly commend Monica for helping her get Franny out of the house, I understand Derek's family's concern but they were so cunty in how they handled things.
Monica's death hit me like a truck... Idk why, there are so many mixed emotions here, she couldn't dare to tell the kids the real reason she was there, and all she wanted was to be there one last time. My heart goes out to her tbh.
Gallavich. Oh dear God. FERAL, FERAL EVERY TIME. it's like receiving crumbs and eating them up like a vacuum, nothing I can say that hasn't already been said... I just... Wow. Fuck. And to know that, after needing Noel for ratings, that this was gonna be the end for them? No, I could throw up. I couldn't imagine watching shameless as it aired with that knowledge in mind. FUCK ME THOSE TWO EPISODES I ATE THEM UUUP. anyway, I'm normal about Gallavich.
Lord bless Etta... my dear soul. 7x11 was vicious for that, my heart crumbled fr. I can see this was all in Fiona's best interest for Etta and stuff... It was just so sad to see.
Lip and Sierra, I don't really know what people's opinions are about Sierra but I kind of liked her? She was sweet, and had traces of boundaries with Lip even if the fucker attempted to break them every now and then. But she was sweet.
Lips second spiral was even harder than the first one to see. Him crashing at Helene's apartment, and she still doesn't seem to grasp that she essentially groomed him, and he's just so devastated still. Fuck.
That ending montage was truly a piece of cinema I tell you. It was beautiful.
I probably have more to say I don't remember but I really liked s7, not on the priority of a constant rewatch, but it was really good...and truly served as the finale it was meant to be. EXCEPT FOR GALLAVICH, holy fuck that would've pained the whole audience.
#shameless us#shameless#ian gallagher#gallavich#mickey milkovich#season 7#fiona gallagher#lip gallagher#debbie gallagher#carl gallagher#svetlana yevgenivna
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WIP - I was gonna write an AU psych ward fanfic but then i just started writing my psych ward trauma. Antipsych. This happened a while ago, I'm okay now (and I'm not grateful it happened).
tw - suicidal ideation, descriptions of suicide rehearsal, psychiatric abuse, trauma
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“Why are you here?”
I look at the psychiatrist’s tie blankly. He’s dressed in a suit, a clipboard and pen in hand. I haven’t even gotten my clothes back, I have to wear a hospital gown and pants four sizes too large, and am not allowed footwear other than grippy socks. The only thing I have left that's mine is my chipped glittery nail polish. I've picked it halfway off over the past day despite desperately trying not to. But this guy is walking around in shiny Oxfords and a suit.
I don’t look at his face. I know he’s looking at me, expecting an answer. Something I’m learning here is that they wait for you to speak. Even if you take a long time. They don’t try to speak for you. Sometimes I wish they would. It would be easier to say what they wanted to hear if they did. Instead I have to guess. I suppose I’m used to doing that, but it’s a lot scarier. “Don’t you know?” I say.
“Yes. But I want to hear it from you.”
Great. I have to tell him in my own words. It’s like a school assignment, but the grade is how long I’m going to be locked up.
I had been in the ER for 13 hours before I came in, and then I stayed up 2 more hours getting here. I wasn’t allowed my phone until I’d been there for 6 hours. No calling my friends. No telling anyone where I was. No one to talk to. Just me and the book I brought, the book I couldn’t focus on because I’d just gone to the counselor’s office because I was having a hard time and now I was at the ER for a psych eval. The counselor who sent me to the ER had said he thought I would just get connected to resources in the community. He said he didn’t think I would be sent to a psych ward.
I’d done a lot of staring at the ceiling to just get through to the eval part, 4 hours in. 2 hours after, when I finally learned I was recommended inpatient, the social worker told me even if I hate it now, I will be grateful later. Once I feel better, I will approve of the decision to involuntarily commit me. My current wishes tossed aside for a theoretical future me who is glad I never a choice. If they’re right, I should kill myself now so I never become such a monster. All alone, with a life shattering brick dropped on my head, I finally cried.
After the eval, I’d begged the nurse for my phone so I could tell my friends where I was. So I could tell my roommate why I still hadn’t come back at 9pm when we usually saw each other by five. My phone was nearly dead when I got it. I called my friends. I called my parents. My friends stayed with me the rest of the 7 hours I was there. They hugged me and cried with me until I got taken away in an ambulance at 3am. I wondered how much a 45 minute ambulance ride cost. I wondered if it mattered.
What a fuck-up I must have seemed. I’d heard of some college kids going to psych wards before. I knew someone who had called a suicide hotline at 4am and got the cops called to take them in. I hadn’t thought it would happen to me.
It’s nice, in a way. To know how bad I’m doing. I’m bad enough that I need to be locked up. For my own safety. I’m so crazy that I can’t be trusted to make my own decisions. I hadn’t known I was that bad until now. I still don’t believe it. It’s a mistake. But it’s nice they think I’m struggling.
He’s looking at me again. I don’t remember what he asked. “Can you repeat the question?” I ask.
“Sure. Why are you here?” he says again.
Right, that was what it was. I smile. I smile when I’m nervous. “Well, I… I…” Why is he making me say this. He knows what I did. I didn’t even try to kill myself. It’s not that bad. “Well, I was… I was… Sometimes I get into these moods. A lot of times I’m normal and fine. But sometimes I just… sometimes I just want to die. I used to try not to think about how I could do that or anything.” I sigh. I had tried so hard to not think about methods. I must have known I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from doing shit like this eventually. “Because I know this sort of thing would happen. But this time… this time I did. I looked up bridges I could theoretically jump from. But that seems like it would suck.”
I laugh. It’s a nervous laugh. It’s a ‘isn’t it funny that jumping from a bridge to kill yourself would suck?’ joke. One of the classics. He’s not laughing.
“Anyway, I was just feeling… I don’t know. I felt useless. I just keep thinking about dying and killing myself. It’s stupid. And I—I wasn’t trying to kill myself. I don’t know if people think I was trying to kill myself and that’s why I’m here. But I wanted to do something. To—I don’t know. To see what’s even possible. So I—so I—so I—”
This is the part I always get stuck on describing. I don’t know how to put what I was feeling into words. I don’t know how to describe what I was doing. I don’t know why I was doing it. It seemed like a good idea at the time. But then again, it had seemed like a good idea to go to the counselor’s office at the time.
“I took—I took a belt. Right? And I hooked the metal buckle part over the door knob—it’s one of those long ones. And I kind of—I kind of—I don’t know. I kind of wrapped it around my neck once and held it with my other hand. So that if I passed out I would be fine. And then I sort of… pulled down. To see if that would… do anything. I did that a few times, and then I was scared that I did it. And I told the counselor the next day.”
It hadn’t been empty blackness like I’d hoped for. It had been a pulsing pressure in my head. I did it a couple times, to see if I could get the empty blackness. Then I stopped. Because it had seemed like such a good fucking idea before I did it, but then I realized I’d done something very worrying and should probably be in therapy. Even if the voice that had started the whole thing was telling me to do it again. It wasn’t real before I’d done it, but once I’d done it, it was too real to ignore.
He’s writing on the clipboard. I have a sinking feeling I’m not getting a good grade. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” I repeat.
“I know,” he says. He’s still writing. I wish I knew what it was.
It’s just me and him in my room. He woke me up when he came in. I went to sleep after breakfast. When I was admitted at 5am last night, one of the techs told me I should try to be awake during the day and asleep at night. Go to groups. Talk to people. It would help me get out sooner. But I’d already been up for 20 hours and it was 5am. So I was going to sleep and they were just going to have to live with that. Apparently you can’t skip the psychiatrist appointments, though.
“What’s got you so suicidal?” he asks.
The world. Everything. And yet, nothing. My life is great. “What do you mean?” I say.
“What do you think about that makes you want to kill yourself?” he elaborates.
“I… I don’t know,” I say. “The… the environment, I guess. Global warming. Kinda sucks to feel like the future is ruined. And the species and the ice sheets. Rising fascism.” I remember a tumblr post where a therapist talked about her patients talking more about those sorts of things making them depressed. That made it seem like an okay enough reason to give to a psychiatrist. And it’s not like that isn’t a big fucking bummer making me not want to be alive.
He makes more notes. “Anything else?” We both seem know that’s not enough on its own to make me constantly thinking about suicide.
I shrug. I’m just so stupid and worthless doesn’t feel like a cogent enough explanation. And I can’t phrase it like that. That would be stupid. “Feelings of… worthlessness, and um.” I search for something in my head. It’s fuzzy. There’s nothing there. I always remember everything so well when I’m crying in bed thinking about how much I want to kill myself. I could write essays on the subject in those moments. Instead I just rehash them to myself, over and over. But I can’t remember any of it now. “I dunno. I can’t remember unless I’m spiraling. A lot of anxiety. Around… people. Social anxiety.” I nod.
Sometimes I get attacked by my social anxiety, memories from years ago—three years, five years, a decade—sending jolts through me as I remember them. I remember what I should never do again. What I’ve learned. Lessons I can never forget, even when I can’t remember what taught them. I usually throw myself onto my bed and writhe in the agony of memories, clinging to ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I want to die’ like I'm falling in an abyss and they're the only rope up. I can never remember what the memories are until they’ve started their assault. I don’t know how to describe that, though.
I’m not being as amicable to him as I usually would be. I haven’t been amicable since they recommended me for inpatient at the ER. Something broke in me then. I’d felt it snap, a crack of terror, and then—nothing. I’m more stone-faced now. Quiet.
I can be friendly when I need to be. I can be talkative and responsive and say all the right words and have the appropriate “mmhmm”s and “oh no”s and “yeah”s. I can laugh in the right places, when it’s polite to laugh at a joke I don’t think is funny. I can make eye contact and break eye contact at what I assume are appropriate moments. I never know if I’m doing it right, though. I poured over a book about body language in high school, trying to learn how the fuck to do it. It said that the exact percentage varied, but around 40% eye contact 60% not eye contact. I tried to get the proportions right for years. Every conversation. Look at their eyes a few seconds, look away a few more seconds. Look eyes, look away. I used to look between their eyebrows, because the eyes were too much. But I read somewhere that some people can tell and they think it’s weird. So eyes it was.
I’m dead now, though. I’m already in a psych ward. They know I’m crazy. What’s the point in trying to appear like I can converse like a human. I don’t want to have to do it. So I don’t. I stare soullessly past people when they talk to me. I examine their clothes. I look at their hair. I don’t smile when they talk to me. I don’t laugh at their jokes. They ask me how I am and I don’t ask them back.
He seems to conclude I’ve finished explaining. “Well—okay, are you voluntary?” He leafs through his papers. “Yes, voluntary. Let’s see…” He leafs through them again.
Voluntary patient. What a laugh. When I came in, I was involuntary. During intake, they gave me some forms and said if I sign them I’d be a voluntary patient. I asked if anything would change. No, they said, it was a distinction with no difference. A voluntary patient still can’t leave until the psychiatrist says they can. But I would be seen as complying with the recommended treatment. It would be beneficial to be seen as complying with the recommended treatment. So I signed. But I never mistook that little black-and-white print Voluntary for consent, even if everyone else did.
#antipsychiatry#anti psych#creative nonfiction#personal narrative#psychiatric hospital#psychiatric abuse#suicidal ideation#suicide tw#trauma#complex ptsd#work in progress#dissociation#depression#anxiety#climate change mention#psych survivor#psych wards#institutionalization
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27 with Agatha and whoever you want?
Thank you for sending this in, dear anon! I enjoyed writing for this prompt, it gave me the opportunity to write for an idea that's been bouncing around my head for months now.
✧—»•«—✧
"It aches, so deeply. I ache, so deeply. And when I'm with you, I don't. I feel whole. Complete." You fidget with your hands as you admit, "I feel your absence in everything that I do alone, in every place I go without you. I always have, ever since we met."
Agatha looks away from your eyes, as if it's painful to see how earnest and truthful you're being.
"I'm not good for you, buttercup." Her tone is flat, which means she's desperately trying to hide behind the mask that always seemed to be so flimsy when it's just the two of you. "I've changed. You've been gone for a long time."
"That wasn't my fault."
Agatha closes her eyes for a brief moment as she lets out a long breath. "I never said it was."
"Then why are punishing me for something I couldn't help? I never wanted to leave. I didn't get a choice when-"
"I know." A crack, finally. A weakness.
"Is that what this is about? Did you think that she sent me away from you for my own good?"
"Yes." Suddenly Agatha's eyes are boring into the depths of your soul, blue fire alight from within. "Why else would she have done that? She approved of us being together, goddess knows it's about the only thing she approved of when it came to me, and she didn't-" She breaks off, cuts herself short. "She didn't send you away until she realized I had been practicing dark magic." Agatha's voice is small, and in a single instant she seems to have shrunk, curling in on herself as if making herself smaller would protect her from things that have long since came to pass.
"She didn't just snap her fingers, Agatha." You say. "She made sure to go into excruciating detail about her reasoning behind her decision. How it's my fault, because I was supposed to encourage you to be a better person, to shun what came so naturally to you it was like denying you air when you tried to avoid it. How in actively giving you a safe space to find someone to love you, even if you practiced and became versed in the unthinkable, I condemned us both." You shake your head, a small, hysterical laugh bubbling up. "She knew then. She knew she was going to try to kill you. And she tried to lay the blame at my feet, telling me if I hadn't changed your perspective on that of which was forbidden, she'd never had to take such drastic measures."
"It doesn't change anything." Agatha insists.
"Of course it does." You snap. "Don't tell me you're allowing your long dead mother to manipula-"
"It's not manipulation when it was the truth!" Agatha's voice rings in the sudden silence. "Mother was right. I can't possibly be good, not when my magic finds it's call in such twisted vileness. You think you know, but you don't. We were young, hopeful and idealistic, but above all else, exceedingly stupid." The last word is spat out, disgust dripping from it. "I have killed more people than the years that have passed for you. I have harmed innocents and sown discord and ruin. You don't get to tell me that I can be good when I've long since fulfilled Mother's prophecy about me." Agatha then holds up long, black stained fingers.
"Fine, then." You say. "You're bad. Congratulations, you have as much of a moral back bone as a chocolate eclair. Guess what, dumbass? That still isn't a good enough reason for me to walk away from you."
Agatha opens her mouth, then shuts it, before opening it again.
"I'm walking away from you." She says, stumbling over the words.
"No, you're not." You sigh. "Agatha, admit it. You can't help but want me to stay, but you're so fucked up, you don't think you deserve anything good. But you can't make a decision for me."
Agatha's eyes are suddenly like steel. "Of course I can. I'm telling you, I don't want to have anything further to do with you."
You can tell she wants it to hurt, and it does, but the fact she hasn't just teleported away betrays her. That and-
"Then why did you fuck me the night I returned?"
Agatha colors.
"A moment of weakness and poor judgment."
You smirk. "Oh, yes. Because you and I both know how deeply you regret having mind blowing sex."
"I-" Agatha looks away, swallowing. "That's not fair."
"You're not being fair." You step closer to her, gently reaching out for her arms. "Agatha," you say softly. "I love you. It's that simple. And you can turn me away, you can never see me again, but that won't change how I feel about you. The only thing your denying us is going to cause is pain, for both sides."
And suddenly, her head thunks down onto your shoulder, her hands coming up to clutch at your shirt material.
"It's not fair." She whispers. "I'm trying to protect you."
"Can't you see?" You beg. "You don't have to push me away to protect me. All I want is for you to allow yourself to love me back."
Her hands tighten and her shoulders shake, and you know she's fighting back tears if she hasn't already lost to them.
"I do love you." Her voice is wet, burdened. "That's why I can't-"
"You can."
Silence follows your declaration.
"Please, Agatha. I don't think-" Your voice breaks. "I don't think I can survive without you anymore."
There's more silence, until-
"If I ever hurt you, in any way, I need you to be able to protect yourself from me."
You open your mouth to protest, but then shut it, thinking about what Agatha is offering.
You hesitate.
"Perhaps," you start. "It would better if we simply agreed to essentially start over. Relearn one another."
Agatha pulls away, and it's then your realize as cool air hits the wet patch on your shoulder that she had been silently crying the entire time she had her head buried against you, though there's no trace of tears anywhere on her face.
"I need you to promise me you'll learn how to protect yourself and demonstrate your willingness to first." She replies firmly.
"From you."
"Yes." She pauses. "I'm dangerous, angel. It's just a fact. My greatest fear is losing control of myself and harming you. I need the reassurance that you won't let me if I try."
"Oh."
When she puts it like that...
"I suppose I could agree to that."
Her entire body sags with relief.
"Thank you." She roughly whispers, before giving into what you both desire, yanking you by your shirt, pulling you into a searing kiss, sealing your agreement.
"I love you." She says against your lips.
"And I, you." You reply, before kissing her once more.
#sky's stolen ask games#sky's asks#sky's anons#sky's inbox#sky's writing#agatha harkness#agatha harkness x reader#c: agatha#sky answers#sky replies#angst#i think#uh maybe hurt/comfort?#oh also#trigger warning: Evanora Harkness#(yes Evanora you do get your own warning pipe down)#i hope you enjoy it anon!#sky's blurbs#sky writes
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So I've been ignoring my Mom all year. Which is more than usual.
See, last year I made it a point to at least call for birthdays and meet up for food every couple months or so. But this year it's been full silence from my side since what happened in January. And with the usually obligatory major holiday meetup looming in front of me, I've been trying to figure out why.
Well, turns out: I hate her.
I know this is mental health tumblr, so this isn't really a very unique statement, but I'm happy to be part of this club now x)
I knew I didn't like her. And my entire family is united in knowing that she isn't easy to deal with. But for all this time I have maintained that I don't hate her for what happened during my childhood. Yeah sure the fallout is *vaguely motions to my entire psych rep sheet* but it's not like she is the only one who had a hand in giving me abandonement issues. Both my sisters and Dad equally fucked off and left me behind in one way or another.
And yet, I don't hold the same animosity with them the way I do with her. I can have zero contact with Sis 2 for a year and we'll get together and talk and vibe with zero problems. Sis 1 apologizing to me for leaving at that time is a memory I hold dear and while I have way more conflicting feelings about my Dad, his unwavering support in the last couple years has made up for a lot of what happened earlier.
While nothing is truly resolved (and likely won't ever be at this point cause tbh I have other priorities), they all made changes and evolved and we found ways to support each other to whatever capacity possible.
Meanwhile, the person who actually raised me has just gotten worse over the years. Getting more and more wrapped up in her own bitterness and jealousy and how she has to have it the worst and everyones problems are somehow her fault and *sighs*
She yearns for connection and yet everytime something is not about her or something that interests her then it will get dismissed and the topic changed. When I got a (second) tattoo years ago, her first reaction was to say: "No stop doing that." Whenever I tried to share my interests with her growing up, she would dismiss it cause she didn't care about the thing. And then be hurt by us not having anything to talk about. I have told her multiple times that her throwing out my cool nightlamp sucked and I still think about that sometimes and so far she has apologized twice for hiding a book that had pictures she didn't approve of. Oh no, H.R.Giger is gonna...idk, I honestly never noticed that book being gone cause it was an impulse buy.
Like, there are actually many things that I can rationalize away if it was just that. Her being weird about me being queer sucked, but she also never stopped me from dating same gender or otherwise express myself. Dropping me with "family" while they fought out the divorce is a good chunk of why I am as fucked as I am but also....I 100% understand that it wasn't done with any malice. From her point of view it was the best thing she could do and welp, nobody connected the dots and did some damage control afterwards. Which is also on the rest of the family tbh
The thing is that she just never stopped being that way. Unwilling to hear that her decisions weren't good and blaming people who bring these things up for attacking her and "Well ok all is just my fault! Are you happy now??! ;_;"
A lot of things broke in me in January.
My patience for her shit was one of those.
While writing this New Years passed and I did not talk to her. Instead I spent a couple days with the rest of the family on vacation.
She has tried calling me a couple times but I just stare at the phone and move on with the day.
Idk, part of me would be elated to just go fully no contact for longer, but another wants to give her...something? A notion of why this is happening I guess. Just can't find it fully in me to formulate it yet
I'm ready to say I hate her, but I'm not ready to fully abandon her
#watching my sis straight up refuse to play along anymore has been eye opening#yells at cloud#people cloud#yelling at family
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I posted 541 times in 2022
13 posts created (2%)
528 posts reblogged (98%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@jellydishes
@feralgoblintea
@heroofshield
@mapplestrudel
@out-of-the-embers
I tagged 473 of my posts in 2022
Only 13% of my posts had no tags
#avenue queue - 425 posts
#dragon age - 65 posts
#art rec - 58 posts
#da:i - 37 posts
#signal boost - 32 posts
#i'm wheezing - 32 posts
#cullen rutherford - 28 posts
#commander handsome - 26 posts
#humor - 22 posts
#love it - 15 posts
Longest Tag: 103 characters
#every other flavor of white person i know (in europe) would rather die than have their guests be hungry
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Someone just tried to “shame” me for reblogging a hospital color theory post
Sir, we’re both on Tumblr in the year of our lord Beyonce 2022 and YOU are calling ME out for being cringe? Baby, that ship has sailed a LONG time ago. Get with the program. We’re all cringe here, but you in particular. Have a nice day 😘
6 notes - Posted April 16, 2022
#4
Well... I guess I’m middle-aged now.
7 notes - Posted June 22, 2022
#3
The reason it’s hard for me to be a person who is positive about the future is because anytime my life starts looking up and maybe things start falling into place, something huge and negative shows up and knocks me the fuck down. I always have, and continue to, merely keep my head above water.
7 notes - Posted March 30, 2022
#2
End of the year writing round up
I was tagged by @barbex and @roguelioness
Overview: This year I mostly stepped away from writing for Dragon Age after a series of unfortunate events that made me bitter about the fandom. I kind of started writing a fic for The Wayhaven Chronicles, but the story uses so little of canon that it might as well be an original at this point. That being said, I did write a fair bit of it and I’m quite proud.
As you can see, I wrote 72K words last year and I am thrilled, because it’s the most I’ve written in one year, ever - by about 20k words. As a bonus, here’s the percentages of how often I wrote in the last year. It’s not great, but it sure is better than 2020. Go me!
See the full post
9 notes - Posted January 1, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
This was supposed to be a time of excitement and hope for the future. Instead, it’s become a nightmare.
About three weeks ago I finally made the decision to separate from the man I was living with. After several years of living like casual roommates, he was still blindsided when I told him I wanted to move out away from him, as if our relationship hadn’t been the worst joke in existence. Alas, after some sulking and some FB dramatics on his part, I was excited to move on. I was looking at new places to move into.
And then I found out my mother had a serious fall and had cracked her head enough to not be able to speak for a day. This stubborn woman had *refused* to go get it checked out and it wasn’t before I yelled at her that she chose to go get tested. It wasn’t until the day after that I found she had been admitted to the hospital. It wasn’t until the day after that I got the worse news of my entire life.
My mom has brain cancer.
The doctors are convinced that based on imaging they’ve done, the cancer had come from a different part of her body, but before they could give her all the testing to find out, she refused treatment, refused further testing, and went home. She hasn’t worked since the hospital stay and has been struggling to pick up things, or take care of basic needs.
I am still in shock, tbh, but I’m not afforded the luxury of processing my own emotions because suddenly she’s deteriorating at an exceeding pace and it looks like she might not have a lot of time.
In the meantime, I was approved for a wonderful one-bedroom apartment that looks absolutely *lovely*, but it’s incredibly hard to celebrate this new chapter of my life when it looks like I’m going to have yet another reason to hate my June birthday.
I don’t think I can explain more. All I can think about is the dry details, the information, the things that require logical parsing of what’s going on, because the moment I think about what I feel, I’m both numb AND like I’m about to break. None of it feels real, all while it’s way TOO real.
11 notes - Posted April 3, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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Weekly Writing Report - June 09, 2023
So I missed last week entirely. Again. Yeah, work again. But hey, I actually have progress to report!
Clare meets Miata: 1,930 words written since last update. All of these came this week. So that’s something? Not sure if it’s a better headspace or the fact I got sick of no progress and went, “Pick a fucking scene and start it.” Next two weeks at work are going to be hectic, I’ll have a week lull, then another week before any kind of break. But I need to prioritize my writing and that other thing I’m supposed to be learning.
Other than that, my thoughts have been about how information is communicated and flows through society, how the lack of adequate and understandable communication has likely helped the resurgence of conspiracy theories and the reformulation therein.
“Those who control the means of economic production control the means of mental productions,” As my teaching mentor would say in “Intro to Sociology.” It’s kinda weird in that I truly felt like I learned more from him as a teaching assistant than I did in in many of my grad seminars.
But I had some notion of this when I started the vampire novel as a teenager. I got reminded of it this week when I saw a gif set of the movie Blade and I got punched in the face with memories of how much that movie influenced my decision to try to write a novel and try to go against some standard tropes. But I did spend a lot of exposition on how they control the flow of information to influence thought and the reproduction of knowledge to keep them out of the public eye.
And how does this relate to the transhumanism pitch? It’s more explicit and much easier to do. Also, The FDA’s approval on Musk’s Neuralink is fortuitous at this time since this is literally what I’m writing about… so more research is needed.
Anyways, I guess I’m in a better place, sans work of course.
So ends this week’s report.
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I'm on my bed overwhelmed by my sadness and mistakes by my self-destructive and self sabotage and everything was fine i was doing well but im a neurotic and im always looking for something more never is enough and... there's when this painful moments comes why I have to look till I find something that punchs me deep and makes me regret makes me feel guit hate pain till I'm crying shaking rethinking who the fuck I am and why I did something that doesn't feel like myself(or maybe I am)
back again it's not like I will ever by sastifasted with myself even when I'm doing good even when I have everything I could have im thinking "you don't deserve this" "you're not good enough " "you have to try harder"
mind you, I'm just a 23 year old girl. I don't know nothing about life, but also, I should know everything something and I just want to be back when i was a little girl who had adults who made decisions and got scold if did something wrong but now im a half woman half girl who had to take over of her own decisions and man it doesn't feel well
my mind is a torture there's no peace i feel alone and well yes this age is lonely, but I wish i could lay my head in someone lap while they tell me "you did nothing wrong you deserve be happy you'll be fine" because sure that myself i will never tell me that
im also a pretentious little bitch that do something against my "morals" whatever that means ig and oooh boy i'm a awful can i ever be a normal person it is like my superyo is bigger and annoying will never leave me alone torturing mw on how i should behave ,etc but also its like i don't want to be that person who have these self-destructive tendencies that end up trying to hide a bigger problem behind promiscuity and abuse of substances that's not safe and sane for me at all and again this is a circule that never ends
what should i do? therapy of course but in the wait im here with my thoughts that is not a nicest place to be
i know for a fact that im over dramatic and also pretentious narcissist and self-centered egoist person guess I have low self-steem looking for other people approval
this last depressive episode that made me going insane (it wasn't nice these last days ngl) barely consumed food if cereal bar and water is considered food can't stop sleeping feeling a walking zombie I dont ever want to feel like that ever again it's not what i want for myself sooo yeah trying to write my thoughts with a bit self-criticism, i really i hope to get better
uhhhg i tried to romantize this ended with bad jokes yeah maybe im in my fleabag-mitski-black swan-kendall roy, etc. era
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The Devil Judge: Episode 15
I just finished The Devil Judge and something about this show compelled me to take copious notes - it had emotional intensity and layers of mystery. These are long and rambling, so they're likely not of interest to anyone else, but since I spent all that time writing it I decided, why not post it. Perhaps someone will find it interesting.
Below are my moment-to-moment reactions, predictions and analysis as I watched episode 15.
eps 1&2 ep3 ep4 ep5 ep6 ep7 ep8 ep9
ep10 ep11 ep12 ep13 ep14 ep15 ep16
I wrote about my initial impressions, up to episode 5, here and here.
This is cleaned up only slightly. I followed the spelling given in the Viki subtitles. I mostly don't explain what I'm reacting to, so this will probably only make sense if you've seen the episode recently. Occasionally I give timestamps.
all their memories. 😥
(11:30) this convo on morality and ends & means and being seen as a monster and Yo-Han yet again feeling betrayed by this man. he thought he'd finally found someone who understood him. who saw who he was and loved him and wanted to walk this path with him.
(I really want to know more about Yo-Han and Mysterious Assistant's relationship. Why wasn't M.A. this person for him? too similar to Yo-Han? M.A. didn't have the goodness and the kindness that made Ga-On so appealing, that made his approval more meaningful? just didn’t have that chemistry? Ga-On challenged Yo-Han, pushed him and questioned him and changed him. M.A. would never even try.)
Maybe it's because I'm still bitter over YSH's death, but I'm feeling this conflict isn't substantially different than the first time Ga-On left Yo-Han's house. like, i feel like their personal plot has stagnated a bit. i don't know what i want differently exactly, but I guess I feel like I want something new from them, to see that they've changed.
also starting to get suspicious that YSH's death isn't going to even have all that much plot or emotional significance. what a fucking waste.
Ga-On wants Yo-Han to choose goodness. "I sincerely hoped that you would stop" (15:00)
the intensity between them! their faces! Yo-Han can't look at him. Ga-On's bow to his back, even though Yo-Han is refusing to see it. the light on the other side of the door that Ga-On enters and leaves through.
Yo-Han likes grabbing people around the neck but still keeping them at arm's length. Is this a common thing in S. Korean media? It looks odd and therefore memorable to me, and I can read all sorts of things about Yo-Han into this move.
finally putting pres. buffoon in his place. The scary thing is that he wasn't even that over the top. presidents do just order tanks to destroy their country's people.
i'm sure this series is saying things about nationalism, racism, xenophobia etc in S. Korea, but I don't know enough to know exctly what. is this something they could only say while under the heavily emphasized pretext that "this is a virtual dystopia"? and i beleive that they kept a lot of the markers of the korean govt. the same - the flag, the blue house (looks similar to what i found of the real blue house in photos). Like, they could just be using prez. buffoon's nationalism for the 'vibes', but i suspect it's a least a little more than that.
I do think even though Seon-Ah is acting like this is a business decision, at least in part it's an emotional/[moral?] one. Now that Pres. Heo is threatening the place where she grew up.
if they're going with a nihilist ending (which they might, I genuinely cannot predict which way it will go. part if it's that the homophonic need to deny the romance is going to throw things off) then my prediction is that Our Two Representative Business Men are going to be shown ending up on top. That's how it usually goes in the "real world." the ambitious women, the public figures, the people who want to change things, they get destroyed and the men pulling the strings in the background, giggling at everyone else's attempts to be powerful, end up with the world in their hands. but the show could be going with a different story. although its hard for me to imagine what victory for Yo-Han would look like. he doesn't want to rule (govern), he just wants to destroy the rot. but as other characters keep saying, the rot goes deep. The only "happy" ending I can see would be him and Ga-On leaving the battlefield to be cozily domestic together. which is a happy ending for them (very hunger games, if i'm recalling the end correctly). but it also would be unsatisfactory for the audience. we've been seeing all this evil, we want to see it destroyed. but the show hasn't posited anything to replace it with (which these types of shows hardly ever do. how do they usually end? i can't think of any endings i remember right now)
I love seeing a badass Seon Ah. And Seon Ah in pink in this flashback! I think this is the first time in pink? oh, maybe a pink floral dressing gown at home with the bathroom mirrors? What if anything does the pink represent?
(30:20) this image of pres. Heo slumped under the tilting S. Korean flag!
Seon-Ah and Yo-Han keep having conversations about loneliness.
he's barely even reacting to her. Usually he pretends he's ignoring her, but now she can't pull his focus from his thoughts. he's not interested in these power games with her anymore. (ruminating on his heartbreak?)
and then he engages, but without the same intensity as usual. it feels like he's done with her, with their power struggle.
I guess that really hurt her? it's hard to figure out what her actual vulnerable points are
(35:57) - Chairman Park asks "What kind of scam is he going to pull off this time?" same, dude, same.
my god. his face. his voice. Ji Sung sir you can act.
I feel like this is surrender. genuine surrender, not an act or an attempt to manipulate. this was a confession of his soul. surrundering himself to Ga-On, not his enemies. He wants to be a man that Ga-On will trust and respect, no matter the consequences to himself. I'm obviously projecting and assuming a lot here, but I don't even think this was about trying to win Ga-On's love, he just wanted to become the man Ga-On saw.
but probably it is also strategic. We have two hours left. So even if this was him surrendering, he's gotta start coming up with plans and plots again or we're going nowhere. I suppose Yo-Han could go passive and wait for Ga-On to rescue him, but that seems way too out of character. I do predict that Ga-On is going to see that confession, (fall in love again,) forgive-ish him, and start plotting a rescue.
Also, I think at this point Ga-On has some of Jeong Joseph's story? or not? we haven't heard it yet though.
or maybe it was just p.r. as a manipulation it seems like it was effective. The public is loving this questing superhero thing. It was effective on me too. I think the reality is that it was both. He was being honest and surrendering, but he also knew that it would work. and to be fair, Ga-On also loves his manipulative scheming side.
I just feel like the series keeps showing us that Y is honest, and then pretending to ask the question, ‘oh but can we trust him,’ when they've already basically proven he can be trusted. The game is starting to feel a little stale at this point. you've already asked this same exact question and answered it, ask a slightly different one please.
interesting that the opposition party so far has just been a phrase. we've never seen anyone from it, we haven't heard anything about them. I know they already have a lot of characters, and the point is that the power is outside of the official system, but still.. (another thing that makes this world feel a little hollow. like at least show us one of them making speeches on tv?)
(40:45) Yo-Han’s unreadable face. slight smile. my (perhaps wishful thinking) interpretation is that this is a victory, yes, but he's still heartbroken.
ok. Su-Hyeon's grave. breathe, gillianthecat. focus on the angst of Ga-On's emotions, not the meta around this scene.
the blood on the edges of the notebook!
i can't tell if Prof. Min feels manipulative because he is, or if it's because his narrative function is to explain things and be Yo-Han's foil in the battle for Ga-On's soul
YSH and G's song 💔
Is the dead guy YSH's killer? i assume that's what the flashback indicates, but it's hard tell from these angles
oh fuck. Ga-On's face when he hears Yo-Han's voice. 💔 his breakdown. He is heartbroken. He was falling in love. he wanted so desperately to trust Yo-Han, for the good parts he saw to be real
i'm still predicting Yo-Han's not going to turn out to be evil. that there will be an acceptable explanation. because that's where the rest of the story has led us. pure evil yohan will just feel like a twist for the sake of a twist without sufficient narrative support. We've seen the world through Yo-Han's eyes too much. it might have worked if they kept him more mysterious
(55:00) My prediction is that Yo-Han know he's coming. that he knew that that was Ga-On on the phone. but i'm not very sure about this.
oh god, the echo of the knife that Su-Hyeon grabbed. this scene is intense, i keep wanting to pause.
oh, they make the knife parallel explicit
"you will regret it." the same response Ga-On had to Yo-Han choking him at his office. the way they know each other and don't know each other at all
Yo-Han always refuses to explain himself or defend himself. he just talks around it "you should know that evidence is futile." some of that is the show's requirement to hold onto mystery and suspense but also... Yo-Han never expects to be believed, he thinks everyone has already pre-judged him as a monster and he doesn't want to defend his humanity
oh the look of betrayal on Yo-Han's face when Judge Min and the cops walk in. even after all that he wants and hopes for Ga-On to be on his side. he was less betrayed by Ga-On trying to kill him than by Ga-On turning him over to the authorities.
The only question he asks is, Ga-On do you believe me. That's all he cares about. the desperate way Yo-Han says his name. my god.
If I'm correct in all my interpretations, I think the show wants to have Yo-Han as both a person and a mystery. and that's a very difficult line for the storytellers to walk. I think it's possible, but I think they don't quite pull it off. At least for me, I've bought into him too much as a person, and the mystery now feels like cheap manipulation and unsubstantiated twists.
aaand Seon-Ah walks in. was she behind the scenes on all this? did she plant Yo-Han's number in that dead guys phone (presumably he was actually YSH's killer, that seems like an unnecessary twist to it all)
I'm going to predict for now that prof. min didn't know about seon ah's involvement. but who even knows at this point.
well, that question was answered two seconds later. i guess my suspicions of prof min were founded. I think I'm pleased with this twist. or at least the concept, they could still ruin it at the end. it was predictABLE but i didn't in fact predict it. (it's hard to distinguish sometimes which things are holes in the story telling and which are intentional hints that something shady is going on)
and here's the oddly orchestrated Rachmaninoff
but also Ga-On's 'oh no did i get this all wrong' face. my god, he's being battered from all sides (this feels gothic, among other things) and min is giving the same reasoning (1:01:34) "It was a choice for greater justice. You will understand it one day."
but what greater justice could this be? He's working with self-professed manipulators who only want money. Does he genuinely believe Kang Yo-Han is that evil that it's worth working with these other evils? or is he just lying about that?
did he latch onto Ga-On already years ago (about 7 years?) when he was a law student (judge student? I don't know how that works in S. Korea) because he looked like Kang Isaac? or did seon ah go to him later on. presumably at least some of these questions will get answered in the final episode.
"You were the weakness I planted near the Young Master."
The wolves are closing in on them both. of course this happened in the gothic mansion, in their domestic space, not in the halls of power. not sure exactly why yet, but it feels right. they're cornered together, they've got nothing left but each other (? i'm guessing?) and they have no power any more. the outside world is invading their private space. The two stories being told are colliding. (they have been colliding all along, but i guess more so now?)
ok, I can see why Su-Hyeon's death was necessary given these twists and this direction. i still feel like having them get together immediately before she died was homophobic and there is no other reason for it besides homophobia.
ok, my prediction re. Jeong Joseph and the tapes: he is telling the truth, Yo-Han did ask him to hide something. but it's not that Yo-Han set the fire or killed his brother. but frankly i have no ideas for what it could be instead.
oh my god his desperation here. We have never seen him this raw. my heart. He does not want Ga-On to see this. He cares so deeply about Ga-On's opinion of him. Maybe he did do it? and has been living with guilt. finding out very soon...
their faces! the emotions here. the intensity. the gothic thunderstorm. It's effective how they show us their reactions first, before showing us what happened.
one last guess that I don't actually think is true because it doesn't lead to the levels of angst we're seeing - Elijah is somehow responsible? ok, deep breath and dive in.
ok, I'm sorry, but if this is their approach to fire safety, how did this church not burn down years ago. is this going to be a weak explanation that doesn't hold up to the weight of all the angst it's supporting? I'm worried, but this show has redeemed itself before.
ok. I guess that was it. My throw-away guess was right. I mean it makes sense in some ways. Yo-Han is obviously incredibly devoted to her, has centered his life around her. but I don't see how that has anything to do with all the other plotting going on. How does hiding this mean he needed to bring down the foundation, minister cha, et al.
and why was he so desperate that Ga-On not see it? Ga-On wouldn't judge or tell. I think Yo-Han must know that. has he just been keeping this secret for so long that its' grown into this enormous bundle of emotions he can't be rational about? the emotions are not matching what's actually happening
Also, I 100% blame the church people for that fire. It was not her fault. who the fuck leaves that many candles unattended and precariously placed in a wooden building. I'm getting emotional about it, but I don't think they're the emotions the show wants me to have.
"At that very second. I decided to die" with the scissors behind him.
For a second time, all this amazing intensity from the actors (wow they're both great here, Elijah too), the filming, the music, it all so well done. but it's undermined by the fact that the plot twist behind it just doesn't make enough sense.
I wish they had the courage to let Yo-Han have been the killer. although that wouldn't have made sense either. Honestly, I can't think what secret truth about the fire would have both held all that emotional angst and fit all the facts we already knew about the characters and their past.
I recognize some of this may be cultural differences. emotions around guilt and responsibility and protection can vary a lot between cultures, and so i don't know how i'd respond to these scenes if i was korean. But even if it makes more emotional sense, I still don't think it makes enough sense to sustain everything else.
also, you don't want her to know that she killed her parents, but you let her become someone who is complicit in deliberately sending a prisoner to be raped. I recognize that those are very different in any universe, and that in this universe the latter is apparently not a bad thing. but since i've been yanked out of the story i'm gonna go ahead and complain about that too.
oh, so Seon-Ah's skin care routine was product placement. good on them in making it feel part of the story. lol, this is a funny time to bring in the ads.
I kind of don't even want to watch the final episode. I'm feeling so let down, and I don't have hope that the plot is going to get more sensical.
but remember, the actors are consistently wonderful and intense. it's worth it to watch just for them. and at this point i've got to see what happens even if the storytelling is a train wreck.
still thinking about the reveal. like, i fully believe that he would do anything to protect Elijah. We've seen that all along. His most intense reactions were whenever he thought she was in danger. and it fits everything we've seen abou their awkward relationship. She's become more of a mission than a person to him. he never really had a parent, he doesn't know how to parent, so fiercely protecting her is the only way he knows how to show his love.
BUT. how on earth does what he's done protect her?!! How does making himself a monster help? Is his desire for justice a separate motivation? Is he trying to control the world because that's the only way he thinks he can keep her safe? Is he even supposed to be thinking rationally here, or has the mission overtaken its original motivation (just like they showed in that scene with President Heo and his wife)? I really hope they give me an explanation I can buy.
hmm. did Yo-Han know that Prof. Min was working with Seon-Ah? I think he didn't.
eps 1&2 ep3 ep4 ep5 ep6 ep7 ep8 ep9
ep10 ep11 ep12 ep13 ep14 ep15 ep16
#the devil judge episode 15#kind of like liveblogging#the devil judge reaction#the devil judge#the devil judge spoilers#reaction by gillianthecat
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5 stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
Pairing: Re4!Leon Kennedy x F!Reader
Summary: Leon Kennedy is on his way to pick you up in 5 minutes.
Warning tags: SMUT SO NO MINORS, NSFW, porn with plot, car sex, roleplay of rideshare driver x passenger, ooc leon (he doesn't hit the car), masturbation (female), sex (p in v), public sex, creampie, image taken from google and edited by me
Author's Note: heeey, i had this on my draft sitting for so long and wrote this from 11 pm to 2 am, in a frenzy. i had so much fun writing, (not so much fun editing this picture let me tell ya), so i hope you enjoy it too!
my leon's masterlist
Leon Kennedy is on his way to pick you up in 5 minutes.
You blink at the message sent to your phone, confused. You had just finished a good walk in the park and could definitely walk back home, no biggie. The weather had been great, not too warm or humid. Your husband had other plans, clearly. You pinpoint your location to your driver, excitement growing inside of you.
Not even four minutes later, the black Range Over enters the park's gates, and you start giggling. Before getting in the car, you must laugh as much as you need, you think. If your husband was doing this, he had an excellent reason.
The car stops by your side, and you open the backseat door. Inside, a handsome and familiar face looks at you in the rearview mirror.
"Leon?" You hold back a laugh, simply giving a timid smile. Leon asks your name, and you confirm. "Would you mind if I rode in the passenger seat, Sir?"
Leon mumbles an inaudible "Not at all." You know just calling Leon "Sir" has already affected him. You close the back door, open the passenger's and jump right in. Leon is wearing a black baseball cap over his golden locks, and you control another urge to not chuckle. To complete the look, he wears one of his tight black shirts (which makes his chest looks huge) and the black pants you love on him.
Leon is staying in character: it is weird he isn't smiling at your presence, but you are to be blamed for this. He is trying, and it is your fault.
You were the one who revealed, while drunk, how interesting it would be to get fucked in a car by a rideshare app driver if, of course, he was Leon. You knew it was a silly fantasy, but Leon considered it a great idea to surprise you at the right time. And the moment finally came, when you left the house ready for a walk, wearing a green shirt and those tight pants.
"Is the AC okay, ma'am?" You are taken aback by how serious and smooth his voice sounds.
"Mhm, yes, thank you, Sir." But two could play into that game.
You can feel Leon staring at your gym pants, going up to your shirt and cleavage. You lied: the car was a little too cold, and your nipples, protected by your bra top, were starting to get hard, a fact that didn't pass unnoticed by your driver.
"Are you sure you are not cold?" Leon asks again, his blue eyes struggling to stay focused on the road.
"Maybe a little," You admit.
Instead of raising the AC temperature, Leon places his warm leg in your upper leg. Surprised by the sudden touch, you don't move as Leon caresses slowly.
"This help?" Leon murmurs, and you nod as his hand starts raising up slowly. "How do you plan on paying for this ride?"
"I have no cash on me. Or cards," You whisper, your body shaking with anticipation. Your eyes wander outside momentarily, not recognizing the empty road you are on and not even caring.
"I guess you will have to pay me in another way, then," Leon sounds decisive, a naughty smile playing on his lips.
"What other way, Sir?" You pretend to sound nervous, despite your body warming up.
Leon answers by firmly pressing his thumb against your clit, as the rest of his hands grab the middle of your legs. Bastard, who knew your body so well by now. He rubs circles through the fabric, an approval hum coming from his chest.
"I think this could work."
You moan back a frail "Yes," spreading your legs open so Leon can have easier access. Your worries about him hitting the car don't even come to mind: you would trust Leon with your life. And the windows are tinted, so fuck it. Your head falls back against the seat as Leon continues with the lazy strokes.
"Touch yourself. Pull your top up."
You follow as told, pulling your shirt and top up until your collarbone. The cold wind from the AC makes you wince a little, the seatbelt scratching against your bare skin. You don't mind, your nipples so hard Leon licks his lips with desire. He also notices your chills, and suddenly you have your husband back.
"Do you want to raise the AC, sweetheart? I don't want you to get sick, and my hand is quite busy down here."
You nod, raising the temperature before going back on, pinching your nipples, a fire spreading in your veins. Typical of Leon getting worried about you getting sick like he doesn't have his hand in the middle of your legs.
"S-sir...Leon." You moan desperately, and Leon grunts an answer. You think he might pull over any minute now, but Leon continues driving, despite his attention flickering between you and the road.
"Take your pants down. And your panties as well."
You take your gym pants down, together with your panties. When you place your feet into the seat, Leon momentarily loses control of the car, causing it to jolt to the left, but he quickly retakes control. You are going to be the death of him, spreading your legs like that, your body turned to him.
Fuck, Leon thinks. You look adorable, sexy, hot, spread like that, your pussy wet and ready for him. Your chest is rising up, and your face is heating up. He wants to stop the car and take you now, but Leon is committed to giving you what you want.
"Let-let me check" You hide a smile when Leon Kennedy stutters, but your smile disappears when your mouth turns into an "o" while he rubs his index finger, starting from your clit down to your entrance. He pulls in just the tip of his finger before pulling out.
Leon tastes his fingertip as if savoring it, making your stomach drop. You are so fucking glad you aren't driving this car, or you both would be dead by now.
"It should be enough as payment," Leon declares, not hiding his proud smile when he sees you even more embarrassed. He wanted to grab his phone and record it. Maybe next time, he thinks.
Without wasting any more time, Leon shoves two fingers inside of you. Your head goes back against the seat and the window, the cold feeling good against your warm skin. He rocks his fingers slowly, admiring your pleasure expressions.
"Look at the mess you are making on my seat," Leon says, smooth and proud. You look down, your wetness even more evident against the dark seat. Leon doesn't seem to care, pumping his fingers fast inside you.
"Leon," You moan, desperate.
"I know, sweetie, I know." It is your Leon back again. You barely know how your husband is holding up, keeping you safe as your eyes glance at the hard cock between his legs. Your hand tries to approach it, but Leon shakes his head, a blush rising on his cheeks. Not if we want to live, Leon thinks.
"It is about you now, okay? Be a good girl and touch yourself for me."
"O-okay." You sob. You take your fingers into your clit, rubbing in a circular motion, squeezing Leon's fingers even harder. You close your eyes, trying to focus on the knot on your belly. You are so close now.
"Open your eyes. Open your eyes, sweetheart."
You hear the command and obey, your eyes focusing on Leon's blue ones. He shares the attention between the road and your eyes. He is sweating, his other hand holding the wheel with his fists white. You want to touch him so badly, it hurts. Leon is panting now, jerking his fingers fast inside of you, your movements in your clit following the speed. You moan his name over and over again, finally releasing the knot in your stomach. You cum, tears in the corner of your eyes, as your head falls back. Leon only stops when your whole body just relaxes against the seat.
The car jolts when Leon finally pulls over and locks the car doors, but you barely seem to register a drunken smile on your lips. He pulls his fingers out, pulling them inside your mouth.
"This is my tip. Come on. Lick them clean."
You lazily lick his fingers back, still trying to catch your breath. When he considers them clean enough, Leon pulls his fingers out of his mouth, his eyes entirely focused on you and only you. Your Leon seems back, releasing you from your seatbelt to pull you into his lap. You can feel his dick against your ass as Leon rubs your back.
"You okay?"
"Mhmmmm. Where are we?" You ask drunkenly.
"I have no idea," He chuckles while you hide your face in his chest.
"That's why you didn't come in the walk with me, you were plotting, sneaky bastard."
Leon chuckles, letting you relax for a few moments. He looks outside the car for signs of human presence, but there is nothing, just trees. No other vehicle has even passed since Leon was driving on this road. He doesn't want to push you to do anything you don't want, of course, especially after how much energy you just used. You seem to understand, though, turning off the car.
"What are you doing?"
"Deciding for you. Come here."
You release Leon from his seatbelt, pulling him to the backseat. You finally kiss, Leon's body covering yours, his clothes reminding you he is too dressed.
"I probably won't last," Leon states apologetically. With his help, you undress him leaving Leon only with his black boxer briefs. Leon finally throws your bra and shirt far away. You want to argue those were your favorites, but he steals another hot kiss from you.
A car passes fast, illuminating Leon and your faces for a second before disappearing. It doesn't have to be an idiot to understand what is happening inside, especially with the now car's foggy windows. You pull his boxer briefs down, and his cock presses against your belly, causing you to chill. You lick your lips, adjusting your position in your backseat as Leon's forehead frowns.
"Hey. Don't worry about it: if it is the police, you can just show your badge and say it is a secret mission or something."
Leon chuckles, knowing you are probably right. He tries to say something, but you finally stroke his dick, just the tip, and Leon is trembling in your hands, his blue eyes glowing.
"Shit, sweetie, one second."
"We don't have much time, Leon." You argue, impatience. You wrap your legs around his waist with your back leaning against the window and the car seat. Leon stands kneeling in front of you, one of his hands at the window and the other holding the seat behind your head.
Leon enters you slowly, causing you both to groan. Leon is much louder than you, and the car starts shaking as soon as he starts moving.
"Shit, you feel so good. You liked your driver that much?" Leon teases, his golden locks rubbing your face.
"5 stars. Ri-right there, baby," You answer, holding him close to you. Leon knew precisely where and how to poke you with the right intensity. You try to stay silent, focusing on the noises of your pussy and Leon's groans. As his thrusts become harder without you even needing to ask, another car in a different direction passes, this time much slower, his high beam on. Leon notices your worried expression, pulling your chin back to look at him, and biting your mouth.
"Let them hear. I want them to see you are mine. Come on." Leon changes the angle slightly, and you scream, squeezing his triceps. He is thrusting so hard you can hear the car groaning. You forget about the existence of other cars and everything else, focusing your eyes on Leon's.
"S-so close," You sob, and Leon takes his hand to rub your clit. It takes two strokes until your body arches from the seat, shaking. You moan incoherently, while you close your hands in Leon's arms, as a way to keep you from passing out. Leon soon follows you, biting your neck as he cums deep inside of you, jerking his hips until the very last drop.
You two remain breathless. Leon's hair is damp with sweat, and he looks a mess. You kiss his cheek, looking at Leon's arm flexing so he doesn't put his weight on top of you.
"Are they gone?" Leon barely registers what you are asking, finally remembering the other car from earlier. He has to pass his hand over the window to take the condensations, searching. It seems that they left.
"They are gone."
"Bring me up, Leon, please."
He nods and gently brings you to your lap, still deep inside you. You just need a moment to catch your breath. You rest against his shoulder again, a happy and small smile on your face.
"Well, this tops the cowboy experience."
Leon chuckles, relaxing his head against the seat. When he starts feeling sleepy, Leon lifts his head, finding you already napping.
"I have to drive away soon, sweetheart. Before you fall asleep completely, why don't you wear your shirt and pants, okay?" You murmur something inaudible, and Leon smiles. He finds your shirt under his seat and your pants in front of yours and helps you dress, you more asleep than awake. Next, Leon pulls his shirt on and his pants, swearing low when he does not find his briefs. Guess he is going commando, then.
Leon leaves you half-lying in the backseat, placing your seatbelt before jumping back into the driver's seat. He gives you one good look, sleeping peacefully, before finding his cap on the floor and placing it on his head. It is time to take you home.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x female reader#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x female reader#leon s kennedy x you#leon kennedy#leon kennedy fanfic#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy fanfics#leon kennedy smut#leon s kennedy smut#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy imagines#IM SO SURPRISED I PULLED THIS ONE OFF#(off i won't tell you where)
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your hq s/o walking in on you masturbating
includes: kenma, oikawa, ukai, kuroo
warnings: heavy smut, cursing, nsfw; degrading, praising, edging, teasing.
a/n: god this took so long for me to write, i hope y’all enjoy. i worked very hard on each character so be sure to read em all ;)
(female character descriptions)
kenma kozume
you sat with your legs criss-crossed on the plush comforter of your bed - your shared bed with your boyfriend. kenma was rarely ever away from you, his job required him to sit at home by his desk most days, trying out different video game graphics, typing up notes or ideas after trying said game. It wasn’t very often that his company called him in for a meeting, maybe once every few weeks.
alas, you still found yourself sitting here, alone on your giant bed, wondering what you’d do with your time. you came home, hours prior, yearning for your comfortable bed after a long day at work. and you certainly relished in those desires, taking a much-needed nap for a couple of hours. but now here you were, brightly awake, with an unusual warmth of desire in your stomach. you were unsure where the urge came from, considering your boyfriend wasn’t even home to tempt you. but it was still there, and it needed to be satiated.
so you began your mission, it had been quite a number of months since you last masturbated on your own. your lovely kenma was always by your side, always there to feed your cravings, masturbation wasn’t even a thought when you knew he was just a room away from you. you almost forgot your usual routine when it came to “doing the deed”.
first, you slipped out of your leggings, feeling the cold, but soft comforter tickle your bare legs. then, you snaked your hand up your stomach to your breast, fondling it as best as you could. funny, it didn't feel nearly as rewarding as it did when kenma did it. lastly, you picked up your phone from its spot next to you and began your search.
you searched a reliable porn site you used to use all the time, quickly finding a video that you knew would get you off quickly. you chewed your bottom lip as the video started, excitement building up from the depths of your core. as the video continued, you snuck your free hand down your stomach to your panties. hesitantly, you creeped your fingers under the elastic band of the soft cotton material and reached slowly for your folds. you gasped at your wetness, it was nothing remarkable, just a little surprising considering how quick you made this decision. you began stroking your clit, slowly to start, while still keeping your eyes on your screen. as the video continued on, you quickened the pace of your rubbing, swirling your juices around your clit with your two fingers. you didn’t realize how focused you were on your phone screen, till the sound of your bedroom door creaking open snapped you out of your daze.
yellow, cat-like eyes peered at your disheveled state in both shock and curiosity. you opened your mouth to say something, but was only able to let out a struggled mewl. his gaze was locked to your body, taking in your entire form, focused mainly on the hand buried in your panties, taking note of how your hand continued its motions, slowly. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him and he couldn’t take his eyes off you.
a loud, choked moan vibrated from the phone in your hand, snapping both you and kenma out of your trance.
“I-i...” you scrambled for words as you quickly shut off the video and began retracting your hand from your panties.
kenma dashed towards you, animal-like instincts, and snatched your wrist in his grip, slowly putting your hand back in the spot it was formerly in.
“continue.” he said, voice laced with the deep desire you so fortunately get to see in him often. his gaze remained down at your body, instead of looking you in the eye. you simply nodded your head and continued your movements again. taking you by surprise yet again, kenma lifted your phone from your other hand and clicked play on the video again for you.
your cheeks burned in embarrassment, but soon your whole body was flushed from the euphoric feeling rising in your stomach. kenma held your phone up with one hand, watching you masturbate to whatever the hell was on there. he then took his other hand and pulled the cotton material covering your sex to the side, watching your glistening fingers work magic into your clit.
he decided he should help out a little bit, so he poked his warm, firm tongue out of his mouth and penetrated your cunt with it. you gasped at the contact, not expecting it since your eyes were trained on the screen. your movements became spastic as the twisting and curving of his tongue played with your insides wondrously. your body convulsed around his muscle, thighs squeezing and enclosing his head. the video you were watching was quick to end, but you couldn't care as you tossed your phone to the side and grabbed a handful of your boyfriend’s hair.
kenma’s assault on your cunt only became more intense as he felt you reaching your orgasm, walls pulsing around his tongue. you moaned in approval of his actions, bucking your hips for the friction of his nose against your clit. your high came shortly after, leaving you grasping kenma’s hair for dear life.
your chest rose and fell rapidly, waiting for your breathing to normalize again before you spoke. kenma plopped next to you on your bed, automatically snuggling his face into the crook of your neck.
“never leave home ever again.” you breathed out, a smile starting to form on your lips.
he simply just chuckled and said, “sounds like a deal to me.”
oikawa tooru
oikawa constantly had you on your toes, always watching and waiting for something to happen. with this, also came teasing, he was a huge flirt in general, everyone knew that, but when it came to you it was in every way worse.
you stared down at your phone, more specifically, at the text your boyfriend had sent you.
pretty, but you’d look prettier with the dress off and your legs spread for me <3
for context, you had went shopping earlier and sent a picture to oikawa of the new dress you were contemplating buying. of course, he was no help in your decision and only used the photo to helplessly fluster you. you sighed to yourself, guess it couldn't be helped.
but you hated to admit that the text hit you with a swarm of butterflies in the very pit of your stomach - you couldn't help but imagine your boyfriend in between your thighs, pulling the tight dress up your hips rather slow.
of course you had bought it, how could you not after reading that text.
part of you wanted to surprise him in it, let him come home to you laying in your bed with the dress tightly clung to you and a pair of matching high heels strapped on. unfortunately, reality reminded you that tooru would be practicing ‘til late tonight and you knew that all he would want is a warm bed to crash on, barely even making it to the shower.
so instead of bothering your already over-worked boyfriend, you decided to take matters into your own hands.
finishing your dinner alone at around 7pm, you cleaned yourself up and headed for the bedroom. you crawled across the smooth duvet cover on your bed, cold material rubbing against your bare legs. you situated yourself against two plush pillows, propping your torso up while parting your legs.
you pondered for a moment what you should do, it wasn’t an odd occurrence for you to be pleasuring yourself; tooru was out quite frequently because of his busy schedule. your confliction was caused by the fact that you simply wanted tooru, nothing else.
even so, you continued your actions; sliding your soft cotton shorts down your smooth and long legs. once situated, you grabbed your phone and searched for something hot to get you off. because you were feeling so touched starved, videos simply wouldn't do it for you today. you needed something more intimate; like the sound of a man’s voice in your ears, coaxing you to your orgasm, directing you to play with yourself how he wanted.
yeah, that would do it.
so you went to your very reliable (totally not reddit or anything) website and searched for something you knew you would like. a seemingly promising result caught your eye, and you proceeded to plug in your earbuds and adjust the volume of the video. you leaned back further into the pillows, trying to get comfortable enough to relax.
the video began and you couldn’t help but feel awkward, yeah the man’s voice was hot as hell - deep and seductive too, but something about it didn't feel right considering you had a boyfriend, with a much nicer voice.
oh fuck it, you thought.
there was no secret rule against this, it was basically the same as porn, only it felt nicer because the plot was directed towards you and your orgasm. you felt more at ease with yourself - and with the video. the voice playing was smooth and relaxing.
you slowly began to move your fingers as instructed - or should I say demanded, whilst also bringing your left hand up to palm your breast through the thin material of your shirt. you were now working both your clit and your breasts, the feeling of warmth beginning to pool in the pit of your stomach.
the voice commanded you to begin fingering yourself - in his words; to “bury your fingers deep in that little cunt of yours”, and who were you to disobey?
you did exactly as instructed, indulging your fingers deep - well, as deep as they could go - inside the warmth of your core. you received praises from the man, calling you names of which you most certainly enjoyed. this encouraged you pump yourself faster, all while your left hand toyed with your breast through your shirt. surprisingly, your hands made a dream team, you hadn't felt this amazing masturbating in so long. it was like the voice in your ears was real and the hands on your body weren't your own, but someone else’s.
what you failed to realize was, down the hallway from your bedroom, your boyfriend was putting his bags down on the kitchen table and approaching your room - where he heard your soft moans coming from.
tooru wandered over to your bedroom, both curious and confused. the way you were moaning, he wondered if he’d find another man on top of you. he decided to bite back his nerves and enter the room quietly, inching the door open with caution. his head poked through the small gap of the doorway that was now exposed, peering over at your writhing body to see that you were in fact alone. oikawa let out a small sigh of relief at this, but then noticed that you were still unaware of his presence and that your ears occupied a set of wireless earbuds. the man smirked to himself, now somewhat aware of what you were doing.
he cleared his throat obnoxiously, immediately turning your attention over to him and releasing the breast in your hand almost shamefully. you opened your mouth to say something, but tooru quickly cut you off.
“my my, what do we have here?” his voice was low and taunting as he took slow strides over to your bed.
“tooru, i was just-”
“playing with yourself, my dear?” he chuckled and took a seat next to you on the bed, “that much i can see for myself. just to what would that be, is the question.”
your face burned in embarrassment and regret, knowing he would manage to squeeze the answer out of you.
“you- you weren’t home, and i...needed something...”, your voice trailed off as you glanced down at your phone, the audio was paused, but not for long.
oikawa seemed to have caught on to your implications and in one swift movement, snatched both your phone and your right earbud from your possession.
“tooru, please-”
your boyfriend made a tsk tsk noise with his tongue, “nuh uh, what makes you think you get to enjoy this alone? honestly, it looks to me like you’re having a lot of fun-” he gestured to your hand which was deeply buried in your panties, “-and i wanna join in on the fun too.” his voice was low and laced with seduction now, his eyes dark and taunting as his face was merely inches away from yours.
your chest heaved with heavy contractions, stomach full of butterflies and warmth. you could barely muster out a word, so you stuck with a brisk nod. tooru smirked and plugged the earbud in at your approval, then clicked the audio back on.
the audio was halfway finished, so the man’s instructions were even more intense than you wanted oikawa to hear.
“that’s right you little slut, be a good girl and keep fucking that little cunt for me, yeah?”
your eyes widened in embarrassment, quickly scanning tooru’s face for any sign of laughter. what shocked you more was the dark expression on his face now, hidden with a deadly smirk on his lips.
“c’mon baby, do what he’s telling you to do.”
“good girl, that my good little slut.”
the mix of the voices overstimulated your senses, your embarrassment soon turned into a wicked desire. you began pumping yourself harder, hand coming back up to grope you breast. your eyes closed shut and your moans began escalating again.
you weren’t sure what you boyfriend was planning on doing next, but you felt the pressure of the bed go down as he switched spots from next to you to in between your legs.
the audio kept encouraging you to pump faster, enticing more moans to spill from your lips. the feeling of a warm, moist tongue pressing against your clit made your eyes shoot open and your head jerk up to see tooru with his head in between your thighs.
“what? am I not allowed to help?” he quizzed you with a tone laced with teasing.
you let your head fall back onto the pillow as oikawa took his time lapping at your clit. your fingering stuttered, but never ceased as the voice of a man and the tongue of your man continued to pleasure you. the audio was nearing an end and you felt yourself also nearing an orgasm. oikawa pushed your hand so your fingers went even deeper than they already were, this earned a whimpering gasp from you. you looked down at your partner to see his eyes were locked with yours, tongue poking out to lick at your swollen clit. you felt your walls clenching around your fingers at the sight, voice in your ear aiding in it too.
“look at you, so helpless, getting off to some guys’ voice? such a needy little whore, aren't you?”
you felt all the oxygen in your lungs leave your body, fingers growing stiff inside of you. your boyfriend’s words tugged at something inside of you, an animalistic version of you deep down that needed to be freed.
tooru smirked up at you, perfectly aware of his effect on you. his tongue withdrawing from inside his mouth to lap you up for the hundredth time.
“how pathetic, were you that desperate for an orgasm that you resulted to audio porn?”
“good girl, that’s my good little girl, cry out for me.”
you felt your orgasm coming like a tidal wave, the two voices overstimulating your senses once again.
“that’s so fucking embarrassing, your own fingers are barely enough to please you anymore. you need my tongue to help you.”
“that’s right, come for me, come around those pretty little fingers of yours.”
“yeah? you're gonna be an obedient little slut and come for for him? listen to his orders like he’s your daddy, right?”
and you did.
with a final whine of pleasure, your body violently rocked itself through your orgasm. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your back arched into air helplessly. your fingers slowed down on their movements, eventually coming to a slow finish. you breathed heavily, chest heaving as the ringing in your ears quieted down. all that could be heard in the room was the thick silence in the air and your contracted breathing.
tooru slowly approached the spot next to you on the bed from his former position between your legs, lying next to your disheveled form. once your body had calmed itself down a bit more, your retracted your hands from their position and turned toward your lover, resting your head on his shoulder.
“well, I certainly did not expect to come home to that.” tooru chuckled lightly.
you quickly dove your face into the side of his neck, hiding in mortification.
“god, I'm so embarrassed.” you mumbled into his skin.
oikawa only laughed louder, earning a light slap on his arm.
“come on, don’t act like you didn’t enjoy every second of that.”
“you know I did, that’s why I'm embarrassed!” you lifted your head from his neck to retort back.
he only shook his head and laughed again, wrapping his arm around your body to keep you warm.
“why did you come home so early, anyway?”
“well practice ended early because the team wanted to go out to dinner for a sort-of, congratulations for doing so good in our last match. that team we went up against was really hard, remember?”
“yes, I do. so why didn't you go!” you suddenly jerked your head up to scold your boyfriend.
“because...I'd much rather be home with you celebrating. besides, I thought that text I sent you was a hint of what I wanted to do with you tonight.” his voice trailed off quietly.
“oh god, I thought you were just being a damn tease like always! that’s why I took matters into my own hands.”
tooru propped himself up on one elbow, facing you.
“c’mon, you know damn well you enjoy my teasing. plus who says we can't go for a round two?” he wiggled his eyebrows at you and gestured at the rising tent under his sweatpants that was nearly poking your leg.
you smirked, looking back up into your boyfriend’s eyes.
“i guess that can be arranged, but it’s my turn to tease, i've had enough of your teasing for one day.”
before he could protest, you were on top of him straddling his waist, hands holding his arms up over his head.
“fine by me.”
ukai keishin
coming home from a long day at work, you plopped down your bags and ran your fingers through your hair. ukai was working the late shift at his convenience store like he usually did on weekdays, and he probably hadn’t eaten anything besides snacks since lunch this noon. your body was tired and sweaty, but you motivated yourself with the idea of a hot shower to keep you up on your feet for a bit longer. as quick as you could, you whipped up a plate of steamed dumplings and rice for you and your fiancé to eat. once satisfied with your work, you left the meal on top of the stove with a glass cover on top to keep it warm.
hot shower hot shower hot shower you chanted to yourself, reminding yourself of your reward for the long day you had. you went to your bedroom first to quickly strip, tossing the restricting clothes away into a hamper. afterwards, you entered your bathroom - now naked, a chill ran over your body. you turned the knob of the shower to the left, far to the left, making the water spring to life and begin to heat up.
after a few moments of waiting for the steamy-hot water to rush out, you took a step into the tub. immediately, your muscles relaxed under the flow of the hot water, your skin burned a little at the sensation too. you sat under the water for a good 30 minutes; lathering your soft skin with foamy body wash, scrubbing at your scalp and rinsing the stress of a long day off your body. the shower was full of steam and the sweet scents of all the soap you used.
you exited the shower after feeling fully clean and content, wrapping a dry towel around your head to hold your drenched hair. you dried your body off with another towel and slipped a soft robe around your form, before approaching your room.
following after brushing through your damp hair, you slid on an over-sized t-shirt from your closet, probably one of ukai’s without realizing. you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you walked toward your dresser, you admired the way the t-shirt showed off the shape of your breasts and hugged your hips. you took a step back to appreciate your form a minute more, becoming seemingly more and more confident in your looks by the second. it had clearly been awhile since you felt confident in yourself, your teenage days were over and adulthood was settling into your appearance.
still, for the first time in awhile, you thought you looked damn good.
a flame ignited in your belly, a flame you had not felt in a long time. you usually tended to ignore said flame, because you simply did not have the time to deal with it.
but today was so draining and you had not done this in so long. surely you deserved a reward, right?
yes, yes you did. a hot shower alone simply was not enough of a prize for the type of day you had.
you crawled onto the bed and sat against your pillow, spreading your legs for yourself in front of the mirror across the room. grateful you had not put on underwear yet, you reached down to touch your bare petals. you weren’t wet yet, but it didn't take you long to get there, not with that mirror in front of you.
you watched yourself from the spot on your bed, grabbing your bare breast underneath your shirt as you started rubbing lazy circles around your clit. you found yourself soon more relaxed than not, giving in to your suppressed desires. you began to imagine you weren’t alone on your bed, that your future husband with there with you; crawling in-between your legs. you moaned at the thought, eyes fluttering close in a daze.
you thought about him grabbing you by your thighs, holding on to them as he made out with your sloppy, wet pussy. you imagined the sounds, his vibrating moans, your wet slick being lapped up and sucked on.
your was sex dripping with your cum now, and you watched yourself in the mirror with hooded lids, vividly imaging your husbands head and back facing the ceiling. you could even see the details of his back muscles contracting and relaxing as he continued aggressively devouring you.
your thoughts were paused when you heard the front door open, your eyes widened, but remained glued to the image of your body.
your fingers hadn’t ceased their movements either.
“honey, i'm home” ukai teased in his “i'm-a-loving-husband-who-brings-home-the-bacon” voice. something you both found funny ever since you got engaged.
you made no sound, too afraid you voice would come out in a squeal.
you heard his footsteps go into the living room, before his voice called out again, “baby?”
you decided to play around and not answer again, leaving him no choice but to find you himself. you continued rubbing your clit as you stared at yourself in the mirror, biting your lip to hold back an excited grin. as ukai’s steps got closer to the door, you found yourself indulging a finger into your core. then, one turned into two. and you found yourself having to hold back your moans, as he was so close to entering your room.
a mere second passed before keishin was strolling into your room, looking for his beloved fiancé. he stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes fell on you, two fingers plunged into your pussy, all whilst staring at your reflection in the mirror.
he exhaled through his teeth before saying, “princess, what’s this?”
you tilted your head to the side, gazing at the man before you with half-lidded eyes.
“what does it look like, daddy?” your fingers maintained their rapid pace.
keishin was enthralled with the scene before him - not wanting to move an inch so he could continue watching you, while also wanting to pounce on you like a caged animal.
he decided to just slowly creep over to you, long strides taunting you from your spot on the bed. he kneeled on the mattress, beginning to crawl closer and closer to you. your gazes were locked on each other, all while your fingers kept their assault on your core.
“you look so pretty baby, touching yourself like that in our big ole’ bed.”
you only bit your lip in response, eyes trailing back to the mirror in front of you. keishin followed your glance, now also looking at the reflection of you two.
he scoffed, “what a little slut you are, getting off to yourself in the mirror.”
a shaky breath left your mouth at his words, before he turned to you again and propped himself up on his elbow.
why isn't he doing anything?? you couldn't help but think.
“go on, don't worry about me. I wanna see you keep playing with yourself, just like that.” it was like he read your thoughts.
you became a little frustrated, you were hoping he was going to join in on your “play time”. even so, you persisted, trying to dig deep for an orgasm. you continued staring at the mirror, watching keishin watch you. it was fucking hot - but you needed more.
“ ’shin...” you whined out, tilting your head to look at him.
“what? is my princess having trouble?”
you nodded your head.
he clicked his tongue, “that’s too bad isn't it? my little girl started this herself, now she’s got to be the one to finish it.” he punctuated his words by leaning in closer and closer, his hot breath on your face felt too nice.
you understood what you had to do, cum for him once and then he’d finally join you for a second time, but you were so damn touch starved. it’s one thing to be alone and touch starved, it’s another to be with the person you want to touch you, just for them not to.
you bit down on your lip as you pounded into yourself harder and faster, fingers reaching deep to hit your sweet spot. you tried and tried, but to no avail. your breathing was rigid now, frustration marked on your forehead, all while keishin sat and watched you like a sly motherfucker.
he hadn’t even taken an inch of clothes off, and he wasn't even palming himself through his sweats.
tears of frustration dribbled down your cheeks, there was no warmth in your stomach, no clench to your core, just the cum that dripped down your folds - and that was only from the mindless finger-fucking you were doing.
“poor baby, are your fingers not enough? can they not satisfy you the way my cock can?” keishin’s voice was low and his breath caused goosebumps to rise on your neck and cheek. you leaned into his warm touch as he wiped the tears off your face.
“p-please.” you begged.
“please what? use your words, princess.”
“please- please help me cum.”
keishin laughed in your face, making your cheeks glow a bright red.
“so fucking pathetic, can't even cum with your own fingers. what happened to that tough girl act you had on before, huh? when I caught you playing with your pussy to your reflection in the mirror.”
he leaned in closer, lips barely grazing your ear.
“-where did that little slut go? you’re so desperate now, it’s not even funny.”
a wave of pleasure took over your body, and you finally understood that he was helping you cum, he just didn’t even have to touch you.
“daddy- please...” you begged for more.
“there’s my slut, there she fucking is. i bet you were just waiting for me to come home earlier; you were waiting for your daddy with your cunt wrapped around your little fingers, legs spread - practically begging to be caught.”
you let out a loud moan, core clenching around your fingers as you felt your orgasm approaching. keishin tugged at the fabric of your shirt, before pulling it up to reveal your breasts.
he scoffed, “even wearing my shirt, huh? bet you couldn't wait to stain it with your cum. you dirty little girl, i’ll make you clean up every last drop of yourself with your tongue”
you were already so close, but keishin’s words and the way he pinched your erect nipple with his thumb and middle finger - really pushed you to the edge.
“cum, cum for me you fucking whore.”
with one final drawn out moan, you came around your fingers and all over the bed. keishin didn’t even let you calm down from your high, he was already in-between your legs getting ready to lick up your slick.
you tried to push his head away - your body was still so sensitive from the orgasm, but you knew that the night wouldn’t end without ukai overstimulating you, as he always does. you both knew each other’s boundaries, and this was definitely acceptable - but it was still part of the act for you to resist.
“keishin, please. i'm too sensitive.”
he ignored your words, pinning your wrists up above your head to get your hands out of his way. you complied, but still writhed in his grasp. ukai brought his head down to meet your pussy, shoving his nose harshly into your sensitive clit, before plunging his tongue deep in your walls.
you screamed at the rough contact, your ass threatened to lift up from the bed - but keishin put a firm arm down on your body to ensure that you were going nowhere.
he continued licking out your insides, moaning into your clit. one hand was holding your stomach down and the other was roaming your left breast, fondling the perked nipple in-between his fingers.
you couldn’t help the bodily convulsions you were having, you had already felt so close and he was just starting. you glanced up to watch your reflection in the mirror, smirking back at yourself after remembering how only 15 minutes ago you were imagining this scenario unfolding.
ukai began licking you with more fervor, his tongue moving up to toy with your clit, whilst two fingers plunged into your hole all at once, making up for any contact lost.
you groaned, arching your back so that your pussy was pressed against his face. ukai moaned into your core, licks becoming a sloppy mess.
“you taste so fucking lovely, feels like i haven’t ravaged you in way too fucking long.” ukai groaned his words into your sex, causing all sorts of vibrations to be let loose.
you were close, so close, your moans were becoming more rapid and you couldn’t hold back your hands from tugging into keishin’s hair. he didn't seem to mind it either.
you were pushed over the edge at the feeling of keishin’s lips sucking at your clit, the sensation being way too much for your over-stimulated pussy to handle. it also didn't help that his lidded gaze locked with yours in the exact moment that his lips wrapped around your little bud. you ground against his face as your cum made its new home all over his chin and all over the bed.
the two of you breathed heavily for a few seconds, staring into eachother’s eyes for what felt like forever.
“you’re so fucking good.” you spoke first, words coming out choked and breathless.
he chucked, “yeah, it helps that you taste fucking delicious.”
you giggled at his words, making it sound like you were a fucking plate of dumplings or something-
“did you see the dinner? I made dinner!” you sat up excitedly, suddenly remembering the meal that you made.
“baby, i think i’ve had my dinner.” ukai smirked up at you.
you weren't taking any sexy jokes, not after you remembered your yummy dinner.
“nope, get up. i did not slave over a stove for nothing.” you bounced off the bed, still naked.
keishin rolled his eyes at you, “we coulda just ordered in ya know?”
“hush.” you playfully hit him on the shoulder, before putting his shirt back over your torso and leading him into the kitchen.
after padding into the kitchen, keishin spoke up.
“you know, I meant what said. about you getting cum on my shirt, and licking it clean.” there was a playful smile on his lips as he crossed his arms and faced you.
“I didn't even get cum on your shirt, asswipe.”
“not yet, but I'm nowhere near through with you tonight, princess.”
kuroo testurou
the red blinking numbers on your alarm clock glowed directly in front of your face, mocking you. 3:32A.M. it told you. you had been tossing and turning for the past 3 hours, how did this happen?
next to you, your husband kuroo was comfortably snoring, his breathing a steady rhythm. normally, the noise itself would lull you to sleep, but tonight your body was wide awake, antsy about something. you had already gone to the kitchen for a glass of milk an hour ago, a trick your mother taught you as a child. irritated, you glanced at the empty glass next to your bed, clearly it didn’t work anymore. it only made you have to pee, twice.
you gently flipped onto your back, careful not to wake your soundly sleeping husband, god knew he had to wake up at 6am for work.
you laid there, flat on your back as you stared up at the ceiling; wide eyed and fully awake. you wondered what other remedies you could do to force sleep on yourself. you could chew some melatonin - but you were sure you’d never bought melatonin in your life, you never had a reason to. you drew in a long breath, letting it out in a sigh. meditation? counting sheep? hot tea? – no, you didn’t want any more trips to the bathroom keeping you up.
then a brilliant thought crossed your pretty little mind; masturbation. you almost snorted out loud at the sheer sincerity of it. shifting around a little bit, you rested your hand over your lower stomach - almost teasing the idea of it. your fingers crept lower, now fingering the hem of your cotton shorts. then proceeded to slip your fingers past both the shorts and your underwear. you quickly peered over at your sleeping husband, a wild nest of black hair spread across his pillow. you smiled in admiration, he’s always slept like a rock, usually an arm anchored around you - preventing you from getting out of bed. that same arm was now stuffed under his pillow, you had learned the ways of escaping kuroo’s giant arms long ago.
you paid mind back to your situation at hand, continuing the creeping of your hand further down your skin. you sighed at the feeling of your fingers grazing over your slit, instinctively spreading your legs slightly for better access. you began rubbing at your now exposed clit; slow circular motions. you bit your lip at the newfound warmth bubbling in your stomach, a feeling you’ve always enjoyed.
your husband stirred slightly in his sleep, head now facing yours. you froze slightly, but let out a sigh of relief when his snoring continued. his jet black hair covered his face, only allowing you to see his lips; which were parted as he snored. you almost thought he looked cute, so tempted to run your fingers through his hair. you decided against it, not wanting to wake the poor man up.
your sex started growing quite wet - quicker than you thought it would. maybe it was the idea that what you were doing...so close to your sleeping husband-
-was so dirty.
you bit down on your bottom lip and quickened the pace of your motions, rubbing your little clit with more pressure from your fingertips.
still, you wished it was your husband’s tongue instead of your fingers. lapping up your slick and prodding at your sweet spot. you moaned softly, quickly biting your lip again to suppress the sound. fortunately, your husband stayed asleep.
you started pumping your middle finger into your cunt, needing more friction to finish you off. the action caused you to moan louder, although you really tried to hold them back. and if it weren't your moans that woke your husband up - it was the arching of your back and bucking of your hips, causing the mattress to dip in your spot.
you didn't notice him though, you didn't notice his eyelids fluttering open behind the shaggy head of hair he had, covering his eyes. he laid like that for a good minute, watching you writhe under your own hand, beginning to grab your bare breast from under your shirt. sleep still clouded his head - making his thoughts a bit foggy, but he was becoming more aware of your upcoming climax by the second. you were so far gone you didn't even realize his snoring coming to a halt, your mind was filled with the most lewd fantasies of kuroo pleasuring you in your bed.
when you felt yourself coming close to a climax, a large hand paused your movements by grabbing your wrist. you let out a small yelp, out of pure surprise and terror. you looked over at your husbands form, he was propping himself up on his elbow and jerking his head back a bit to get a better look of you, a smug smirk growing on his lips. his messy hair only covered his left eye now, and you could see the dark hues of his right eye practically glistening, looking down at you with a dark intensity.
“test-”
“i hope i'm not interrupting you, my sneaky girl.” his voice was sleepy and one whole octave lower than it was during the day.
“no, you're not...um. i had trouble sleeping baby.”
he gave you a knowing look and pulled back the blanket that covered his torso, exposing to you his flexed abs.
“and you couldn't ask me for help?” he began creeping over to your frozen body, still halfway under the covers.
“you were sleeping, dummy.” you squinted at him.
“name calling? well baby, two can play at that game.” he got fully on top of you, then proceeded to sink himself back under the covers, until only his head was poking out.
“let me help my chibi-chan out, yeah?” he drawled out the name slowly, knowing just the kind of reaction you'd have.
“testu, you have work in 3 hours, i-”
kuroo rolled his eyes at you, before fully submerging his head below the blanket. your hand was still in your pants, it had seized its movement, but it still remained there almost frozen. kuroo pulled the inconvenient hand out of his way, tugging down your cotton shorts immediately after. you felt unsure what he’d do next, considering you couldn't see him.
after your shorts were long gone, you didn’t feel anything for a few seconds. you perked your head up from its position on your pillow almost ready to call out your lover’s name. you were quickly stopped when you felt a long stroke from his tongue to your wet slit.
you threw your head back, a long moan escaping your mouth. the ecstasy from the feeling of his tongue unexpectedly replacing your fingers was unimaginable. you writhed beneath his mouth, his arms instinctively going to wrap around your thighs, anchoring you down in your place. his tongue continued its assault with an immense amount of pressure; pushing the muscle deep into your hole, then bringing it out to run circles around your clit. you already felt your body closing in on its orgasm. you had gotten yourself pretty far earlier and your husband was only getting you further. kuroo felt your tightening core around his muscle, and he slowed down his tongue movements - ultimately trying to edge you.
and you certainly felt on edge, that was for sure.
your eyes widened at his suddenly slow pace, looking down at the lump of his body covered by the thick blanket. you knew he was getting warm down there, but this was kuroo for crying out loud; this man would go on for hours if he wanted to.
you felt his grip around your thighs tighten as you bucked your pelvis into his face, demanding a little bit more friction. to your dismay, he gave you the absolute opposite of that; digging his nails lightly into your plush skin to almost warn you not to be impatient. you whined under his tongue, the feeling of slow circular motions was driving you crazy. you were about ready to suffocate his face with your pussy - underneath the already claustrophobic blankets.
kuroo suddenly sped up his pace again, planning on bringing you close to another high. and maybe if he was feeling nice, he’d let you come this time. he added two fingers to pulse into your sopping wet cunt as he licked away at your clit and your folds - lewd noises escaping through the small holes between the blanket and the bed. he continued pumping you ‘til he felt your walls begin to clench again, squeezing his two fingers tightly together. he immediately pulled them out.
you gasped at the loss of contact, this time you were really ready to rip the blanket off this man and yell straight in his face. but to your surprise, kuroo submerged himself from under the blanket to meet you face to face.
“having fun, chibi-chan?” he smirked down at your pouting face.
“i was.” you accentuated your words with a roll of your eyes.
kuroo chucked, then grabbed your cheeks in his hand and squeezed them.
“hey, who said you could give me an attitude, huh? you should be thankful that i’m pleasuring you at this hour.” his voice was deep and laced with lust. you know his actions would soon contradict his words, so you played along.
“want some kind of award? oh, i’m so glad my husband edged me at 3am! when i could’ve came and went to sleep already! thank you truly-“
kuroo’s eyes went dark; knowing this game all too well. his hands went from your cheeks to around your throat in a mere second.
“watch your fucking mouth, brat, or you won’t be coming at all tonight.”
you smirked up at him, knowing you got him where you wanted. kuroo pulled down his boxers from his position between your legs and began pumping his half-erect member. you simply sat back and watched him. after a moment, he lined himself up with your core, slightly adjusting his position to get closer to you.
“someone’s taking their sweet time.” you had to bite back a laugh at your own statement.
“patience is virtue, chibi-chan. or did you forget that i could simply stop here and go back to sleep?” kuroo tested you.
“whatever you say, sir.” you looked deep into his eyes, not an ounce of satire in your voice.
kuroo licked his lips devishly, any hint of tiredness he had felt before was long gone now. he pushed his cock deep into your core, bottoming out all at once. your back arched instantly at the feeling of his cock already pressing against your cervix.
“think you can take me, little one?” kuroo smirked down at your face, which was contoured in pleasure and slight discomfort from taking his cock all at once.
“know i can. start moving grandpa, i’m not getting any younger here.” you teased his slow pace.
he raised an eyebrow at you, “you asked for it.” and began shoving himself in and out of you at the speed of fucking light.
you threw your head back in ecstasy, the feeling of his “larger-than-most” cock would never get old to you - no matter how long you two have been together. he almost always stretched you out to unimaginable points.
“test-testu.” you whined out, tongue beginning to loll out of your mouth.
“that’s mr. kuroo to you, little one.” the muscles of his biceps were starting to tense up as he continued fucking you senseless.
you could barely whine out a response, his cock was already so close to pushing you past your breaking point. he made matters worse by bringing a hand down to play with your clit, only to retract that hand and slap your pussy with it, tauntingly. he knew exactly what kind of response he’d get from that, as you wail out from under him.
“i’m so close...” you almost regretted saying that in fear that he’d just pull out and go to sleep. but you knew better that he already sensed you were close without you having to say anything.
he smirked from his position on top of you, black hair falling in a mess over his face as he tilted his head down to look at you better.
“so am i.” he groaned into your ear as he inched his body closer to yours, your erect nipples practically brushing against his bare chest through your thin shirt.
your core tightened as your climaxed reached itself. you dug your nails into the bare skin on kuroo’s back for support, he barely even hissed in pain at the sensation. your hips bucked as your orgasm took over your whole body, legs shaking from the aftermath of the intense high. your husband fucked you through your orgasm relentlessly, seeking to find his own orgasm. he came shortly after you, deeply groaning into your ear - the noise had goosebumps rising all over your body.
“always so fucking good, chibi-chan.” his eyes were half-lidded, as were yours.
your chest heaved as you began to calm down from your high. kuroo pulled himself out of you and quickly retreated to the bathroom to get some towels to clean you guys up.
but when he got back you were already half asleep, cuddled into his pillow, inhaling his fresh, yet musky scent. he smiled down at you, a towel still in hand.
you mumbled to him, sleep nearly taking over you, “thank you, baby~”
#kenma kozume#kuroo testuro#oikawa tooru#oikawa toru#ukai keishin#kenma smut#kuroo smut#oikawa smut#ukai smut#hq smut#hq smau#haikyuu smut#haikyuu smau#haikyuu x reader#oikawa x fem!reader#kuroo x fem!reader#ukai x reader#kenma x fem!reader#haikyuu!!
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𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.
summary: you and eren, your boyfriend armin’s best friend, have always had a strange relationship. things take a turn when armin goes home for the weekend, leaving the two of you alone on friday night.
warnings: smut, oral sex (f receiving), guilty reader feels bad, implied infidelity, masturbation, slight dumbification, dacryphilia, daddy kink
word count: 6.8k
author’s note: i once said i would never write for eren, so i guess that was a fat lie! enjoy!
You’re not sure about exactly when you became so comfortable with having Eren around. It was kind of like a two-for-one deal with your boyfriend, Armin, since he was so rarely seen without his best friend at his side. Their majors were so different that they hardly ever had classes together, and so the pair of them made up for lost time by spending all their other time together.
It wasn’t totally out of the blue if Eren would crash on the couch next to you, while you were curled up beside Armin, hands interlaced and head resting softly on his chest. You’d jolt at the impact of Eren—a huge guy compared to anyone’s standards—jumping beside you and disrupting the peaceful intimacy you were sharing with your boyfriend. Armin didn’t seem to be annoyed or frustrated, and so you wouldn’t prove to be, either. You and him would welcome Eren with a laugh, directing him to the leftovers from your take-out and enjoying the company of a man who wasn’t your boyfriend far too much.
It was easy to fall into the trap of it. Maybe Armin was always missing the way Eren’s eyes raked over your figure whenever you’d walk into the room. Maybe he was too enraptured by his marine biology textbook to notice how Eren stared at the supple skin of your exposed thighs when you took a seat next to them, dress hiking up a little or skirt much too short for a study-date with two boys. You were never much of a tease because it was so easy when you and Armin started seeing each other, so natural and comfortable that you didn’t have to try any unusual flirting methods on the golden-haired boy. As a result, he didn’t really know what bubbled under the surface of your skin and all the different thoughts that plagued your mind.
So you think that’s why it was so easy to fall into the trap of it all, making eyes at Eren while your boyfriend sat right next to you. Choosing outfits that had previously been stuffed into the depths of your closet, because you didn’t think Armin would approve. You kept up the facade in front of your lovely boyfriend, though, because at the end of the day, you loved him and no one else. You didn’t want to break his heart by cheating on him with his closest friend, even though the electricity between you and Eren made all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and made goosebumps appear on every inch of the soft skin of your legs that Eren loved to leer at so much. No, because at the end of the day, it was plainly wrong to even think about another man when you had Armin in your life.
That’s what you told yourself when you stopped exchanging glances with Eren, started wearing blue again instead of green, and asked Armin if you two could have more time alone. You thought Armin looked confused, and he was, but for entirely different reasons. While you had been concerned with Eren’s gaze and intentions, Armin had been silently paying attention to his best friend and girlfriend. You thought he was innocent, sure, but he wasn’t stupid. And there wasn’t a thought in Eren’s head that Armin couldn’t figure out well in advance. If you wanted to fuck Eren, all you had to do was ask, but he quickly realized you were trying to be a good little girlfriend again, rather than the devilish slut you had been recently. Well, if you weren’t going to do anything, he was going to have to take matters into his own hands.
Eren had always wondered why you spent so much time with Armin, and by virtue of association, with him. Any other little girlfriend would at least take some time alone to study, but you practically spent every minute at Armin’s side or in their shared apartment. Armin’s explanation of how you didn’t get along with your roommates made so much sense, especially now that you were going to be sleeping in Armin’s room for the weekend while he went back home for a ‘family emergency’.
You had asked Armin if Eren would be going back with him in a certain voice, one that he couldn’t exactly pinpoint as he eavesdropped from his own bedroom. A mixture of uncertainty, nervousness, and excitement? Was that excitement he noted? He wishes he could look into your eyes to tell, but all he can do is listen to Armin tell you that Eren would be staying in the apartment.
Eren can almost hear your heartbeat speed up, eyes blinking quickly and heat rushing to your face. Of course Armin trusted his best friend to stay with his girlfriend for a weekend. The two people he loved the most would never betray him, and so he had nothing to fear.
Back to being the devoted girlfriend you are, you help Armin pack his bags late Thursday night. You folded clothes on his bed and tucked them into the duffel bag neatly, while Armin looked around for his books. He would be leaving right after his classes Friday morning, and so you knew by the time you returned after your classes, he would be long gone, leaving just you and Eren to fend for yourselves Friday night.
In the morning, you’re greeted by Armin pressing a kiss to your forehead as he heads to his eight-am lecture. Through the daze of sleep and heavy-lidded eyes, you grasp his hand softly in a failed attempt to keep him with you a little longer, but you hear him murmur something that distinctly sounds like “Don't worry, baby, Eren will take care of you” before he leaves.
You fall back asleep after, missing the way Armin and Eren talk briefly before he departs. You wake up in Armin’s bed alone, to the sound of your alarm. Usually, Fridays are your favorite day of the week because you have a light schedule and you get to spend most of the day with Armin. His classes end right when yours start, so you’d get to grab coffee with him and meet for lunch after, before either heading to the library to get work done or to his apartment because you knew Eren wouldn’t be around and therefore you could be as loud as you want.
But not today. You had to get breakfast alone, before going off to class and sitting in the library alone. You didn’t realize how quickly the day had passed by, in between studying and texting Armin to make sure he got home safely, and avoiding the pit in your stomach that kept reminding you that you’d be going home to Eren soon. You looked outside the library window from your seat, and saw the sun was setting, meaning the library was closing soon and that you had to face reality. You’re thinking about how to put going back to the apartment for even longer, maybe stopping somewhere to eat dinner, when your phone buzzes with a text notification.
You pick it up quickly, hoping it’s from Armin, but your stomach drops again when you see the screen lit up with Eren’s name. A singular message from him reads: Did you eat yet?
Bastard. How does he know your thoughts before you even think them?
You’re faced with two choices. Lie to him, then go get dinner by yourself, and then finally go back to your own home and put up with your terrible roommates for another night… or go to the apartment, order dinner with Eren, and avoid his lecherous looks long enough to get yourself safely inside Armin’s room with the door locked.
You feel your heart pounding inside your chest at the thought of having dinner with Eren alone. He never did anything too forward or telling with you, but you suspect it was only because Armin was always right beside you. There’s no telling what he would do if he got you alone. Your heart’s pounding, but another feeling altogether is creeping into your stomach and up to your chest, one that’s making you feel hot all over despite how chilly the air in the library is.
You’re nearly lost in your thoughts until your phone buzzing again brings you back to reality. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in as you read his text, this time longer; We can order dinner when you get here. Promise I don’t bite.
You feel like hurling your phone across the empty library, because every sane thought in your mind is telling you not to go over there, but every bone in your body feels like it’s being pulled towards Eren. Suddenly you think back to all those times you had teased him intentionally, and how strange you feel right now, like two different versions of yourself are fighting with each other. A third buzz makes your decision for you.
Am I really so much worse than those roommates of yours?
Eren was many things, but that was one thing he was not. You quickly remember just how often you had shown up at Armin’s doorstep in tears, or so angry you had steam blowing out of your ears, because of how much you hated them. You only had to deal with them for a few more months, so it was easy enough to avoid them and only stop by to get clothes and the occasional shower. To make matters worse, it was Friday night and they would definitely be having some kind of a party or get-together, which meant there was no way you’d be getting any sleep there.
I’m on my way, can we get pizza?
…
It’s only seven-thirty when you and Eren are sitting on the couch, some movie playing on the television that you aren’t paying attention to. Your nerves only let you eat a slice of pizza, while Eren scarfed down nearly half the box. You knew you were fucked when Eren opened the door, clad only in grey sweatpants and the slick sheen of sweat apparent on his entire body, from his muscular arms to his abs.
Bastard, bastard, bastard. He opened the door like that on purpose, just to see you react with a splutter and blush red.
“I’m just gonna jump into the shower, can you order the pizza?” he shouted to you while walking back to his bedroom. He came out with a towel, and you had barely processed the words because the only thing you could think about were his arms. You knew Eren was fit, anyone could tell just by looking at him, but you had no idea he was built like that. If you were a lesser woman, you would have tried to sneak glances at Eren getting into or out of the shower during all those opportunities you had, but you never did, because it felt wrong to look away from Armin’s blue eyes to focus on Eren.
But now, with no one else there to stop or distract you, your eyes were glued to his muscular figure. It wasn’t too hard to think about how easily he could pin you somewhere—up against a wall, or a door maybe, or across the dinner table. It wouldn’t even take him both hands to keep your head shoved down or keep both your arms pinned back as he—
“Hey, you okay? Did you hear me?” Eren asks again, standing right in front of you. He’s trying his hardest to sound sincere, but there’s a smirk on his face as he observes your behavior. If it wasn’t obvious before, it’s clear as day now.
“I-I’m fine. What kind of pizza do you want?”
“Whatever kind you want, just get extra cheese. Menus on the table,” he says, before turning back around and walking to the bathroom. You’re almost jaw-dropped as you watch him walk away, and hear the water turn on. You take several deep breaths, reminding yourself to stay calm. After dinner, you could go into Armin’s room and be completely fine.
You order the pizza and go into Armin’s room to sort your stuff out, looking through your bag and searching for clothes to sleep in. You knew you had packed them, but you suddenly couldn’t find them anywhere. Your shorts and t-shirt were missing, and you quickly realized you left them on your bed while you had gone to grab your toothbrush. Damn it.
Armin has a collection of perfectly soft and comfortable shirts to sleep in, so you open one of his drawers and pull out a dark green one, with some design on it. There’s no shorts that would fit you among Armin’s clothes, so you’ll have to do without them tonight. It’s fine though, considering the door will be locked and you’ll be safe and sound once you and Eren go to bed. Or so you thought.
Now you’re sitting on the couch, still dressed in your day clothes and feeling hot again. You knew Armin liked to keep the apartment on the warmer side, but you had never felt quite this warm before.
Eren glances at you with a quizzical look, and you realize your shiftiness and breathy pants are more noticeable than you thought.
“Are you okay? You look like you’re about to pass out and you barely ate a thing,” he comments, keeping his eyes on you which somehow makes you feel even worse. His gaze is piercing, and though you never really cared that Eren always looks like he’s undressing you with his eyes, it’s bothering you now more than ever.
“I-I’m okay,” you get out, before suddenly standing up and taking off the cardigan you had worn all day. “I think I just need to shower, good night Eren,” you say, before walking away much too quickly. Eren’s eyes don’t leave you until you’re inside Armin’s room once more, wondering why you’re so hot and bothered at a simple stare from him. Him, who is not your boyfriend, and barely qualifies as your friend and for some reason has you wet from looking into those green eyes for too long.
Enough.
Armin was kind and sweet enough to let you sleep at his place when he’s not even there, and you wanted to repay that kindness by having dirty thoughts about his best friend? No, it wasn’t right, in fact, it was inherently wrong. You take a few more moments in Armin’s room, inhaling the familiar scent of his fabric softener and all the old books on his shelves, before taking your towel and going to the bathroom. Eren is still in the living room, eating and watching the movie, you presume, and you wish to God he would leave you alone and go out to party or fuck some other girl, but he’s not. He’s spending a quiet Friday night at home with you.
The hot water and clean soap distract you from your thoughts, but the tension and heat growing in your body is only exacerbated when you run your hands across your body. There’s something very wrong about touching yourself in the shower when Eren is a dozen feet away and could hear you easily—but that’s a risk you’re willing to take if it meant it would get illicit thoughts of him out of your brain for the rest of the night.
One hand goes to play with your hardened nipple, as the other tenderly begins to rub circles on your clit. Your hands try to imitate Armin’s, and he’s always gentle with you, but as you let out a muffled moan, you realize it’s not Armin’s careful touch you want right now. It’s Eren’s rough fingers, fingers that would move in and out of your wetness harshly, not waiting for you to adjust to their size. Eren wouldn’t start with one, like Armin, he would go for three and keep his thumb on your clit, rubbing so fast and in just the right way, while his mouth would be on your tits—tongue doing the talking for him on your sensitive nipples. He wouldn’t care to stop if it was getting to be too much, and he wouldn’t let you come down from your high before starting again, he would just keep going. Eren would know when you’ve had enough, and just once didn’t meet his requirements for enough.
If anyone could see you right now, you could die from embarrassment, furiously fucking your fingers and completely unaware of how loud you were being as you tried to imitate what Eren would do to you. But imitating wasn’t quite enough, You were so close, you could almost feel that tight knot in your stomach unwind, just a little more—-
Knock.
“Hey, you’ve been in there a while. Everything okay?” Eren’s voice is muffled from outside the door, and the waterfall coming from the shower suddenly felt like it was pounding beside you.
Your hand covers your mouth as you let out a frustrated, stifled sob.
“Y-yeah! I’m almost done!” you call back out, fingers still inside you. You remove them with a gasp, shaking and face burning at the idea that Eren might have overheard you. You get out of the shower on wobbly legs, wrapping the towel securely around you and heading to Armin’s bedroom to change and put an end to this strange day. You don’t notice that Eren’s door is cracked open a little.
As strange as it sounds, you feel much better once you’re in Armin’s shirt and just a pair of panties, ready for bed. A nagging voice in the back of your head wants you to finish what you started in the shower, nipples hard again as the air seems cooler than earlier, but you push the thoughts aside. Another day.
You grab your water bottle to take your birth-control pill, eight forty-five on the dot, but realize its contents are empty as a result of your earlier hot flash. You tiptoe into the kitchen, extra careful because you don’t want Eren to hear and come out, but as you fill up a glass, your roommate for the night is suddenly leaning against the counter.
It should be illegal the way he says your name. Sultry and deep and rolling off his tongue without even trying. Eren doesn’t have to change a thing about him to be the very definition of the word erotic, which is coincidentally the only word you can use to describe this encounter.
He’s forgone the shirt he had on earlier, when you were eating together, and you knew he had put it on just to make sure you didn’t choke on your pizza. Just in those sweatpants again, you could see everything you had tried too hard to avert your gaze from, on display right in front of you.
“E-Eren,” you stutter out, skin burning again even though it was cold now. “I didn’t see you there.”
“It’s okay. What are you taking, there?” You flushed again at the idea of having to tell Eren it was your birth control, because it felt as if he already knew somehow. He watches you with that damn smirk and a raised eyebrow, waiting for your answer.
“It’s ibuprofen.”
“Oh.. ibuprofen, huh? That’s weird, because every time I asked you if you were okay, you said you were fine. Were you lying to me?” His tone is dangerous, somewhere between amused and angry.
You didn’t even realize he had gotten so close to you, until you tried to take another step backwards to put some distance between you two, but you were met by resistance from a cupboard, signifying the end of the wall.
“I-I wasn’t lying, I just forgot-” You hear him click his tongue. He’s dangerously close to you now, you can feel the heat coming off of his body and one more step from him would make you feel the cold breath of his exhales.
“Forgot what, baby? It seems to me that I just caught you in a lie.” Another click of his tongue. “Now, Armin always says you’re a good girl, but I don’t think a good girl would lie to me like you’ve been doing all night, right?”
Armin. The very mention of his name makes something recoil inside your chest, makes you remember how you don’t want to hurt him like this, and how much pain he would be in if he found out about this little interaction between you and Eren.
You try to push back, but Eren extends his arms up, trapping you between them and the cabinet, leaving no way for you to escape.
“Don’t you wanna be a good girl for me?”
The simple sentence is enough to send your brain, skin, heart on fire, as you let out a breath and find your head nodding up and down. Your body seems to have a mind of its own, wetness seeping from between your folds and no doubt creating a darkened patch on your panties.
“Good girl,” he mewls, dragging out each syllable as he speaks. “I thought I might have to punish you if you kept lying to me, but I don’t think that’ll be an issue anymore. Am I right?” He watches you dumbly nod again, eyes very much blank and just focused on one thing: him. He nods too, mocking your movements and smirking again. “Should we play a game? How about I ask a question, and you have to tell the truth? Sound good?”
Everything’s on fire, and you can’t hear anything besides the thumping of your heart in your chest. Long gone are your inhibitions and desperate hope of a quiet night in with your boyfriend’s roommate.
“First question…” Eren trails off quickly, looking down your body slowly. He takes one hand down from its position of blockading you and brings it to the hem of your—Armin’s—shirt. He plays with it there before continuing his sentence. “What were you thinking about in the shower earlier?”
You feel your breath catch in your throat and a quick flame erupts in your chest at the humiliation you feel—so he had heard you after all. And he interrupted you on purpose.
“You-you were listening? I-” Eren laughs, a low rumble from his chest meeting your ears as you begin to quiver from your position against him.
“I wasn’t listening so much as you were being loud. It seems to me that you wanted me to hear you, isn’t that right? Or else what kind of a filthy slut would be so loud?”
You tremble at the name he calls you, not used to sort of degradation Eren is putting you through. A small voice in the back of your head tells you that he’s not wrong, and your behavior is akin to some kind of whore. Maybe you’ve been like this all along, and you just needed the right person to bring it out of you. Your head feels utterly empty and devoid of any more thoughts, and you blank at what to say to Eren next.
“I-I’m s-sorry,” you splutter out, feeling incredibly small near Eren, who towers over you. There’s something sadistic in Eren’s gaze, but you notice him soften up at your apology.
“What are you apologizing for?” he questions, quieter than before. He knows the two of you are alone, but he can’t bring himself to raise his voice at you.
You, the bane of his existence, and a blessing all at once. Since the day Armin introduced you to him, there’s been nothing he’s wanted more than for you to meet his gaze and look at him the way you looked at his best friend, with love and adoration. He got a few lucky weeks where you didn’t immediately shy away from his eyes, when he felt like you were challenging him to do something, anything. But it went as soon as it came, and suddenly he was seeing less and less of you. Until this opportunity from Armin’s departure, that is.
“I… I was being a slut,” you whisper back to him, tears lining up at the waterline of your pretty eyes as he moves a hand to your jaw and forces you to look right at him while you speak. You shudder at the touch of his skin on yours, but you don’t want him to stop all the same.
“That’s okay, baby,” he says in an incredibly reassuring tone that has you wondering what he’ll do next. “I like my girls a little slutty, but just for me, right?” You nod again, quickly. “Besides, I have to make it up to you, you know. I stopped you right when you were getting real close, didn’t I? I could just tell from those pretty noises you were making.”
The next few moments pass by in a blur, Eren’s arms move and suddenly you’re over his shoulder, ass up and out as the shirt you’re wearing rides up. He delivers a quick slap, making you cry out, as he brings you into the room and lays you on the bed. He’s standing between your legs, a hand on each thigh keeping you spread open for him as he observes closely the impact of his actions on you.
“You’re just soaking through your panties, aren’t you? Are you really that eager for me?”
You let out a whine, not wanting to answer his question because your face is burning again at the idea of Eren staring so closely at your clothed pussy—and you let out an even higher-pitched squeal when he uses a finger to push your panties aside, and look at your wetness completely.
“So wet, and so pretty, all for me, huh?”
“Y-yes. All for you,” you let out with a moan, eager for Eren to do something. Anything at all would set you over the edge, with how you’ve been feeling these last few hours. But you think he knows that, because his actions are all teasing you and leaving you wanting more, blindly clenching around nothing at all as his fingers barely graze your clit. He lets out a laugh at your desperate antics, and you’re about to come from the slightest touch, and suddenly you feel the bed moving as Eren wraps his lips around your clit and pushes his tongue against you.
You didn’t even know you could make the noise that you let out, a scream and a cry and carnal moan all wrapped in one. You know Eren thinks the same because he looks up at you from his position between your legs, laughing against your core. The vibration from his laugh makes your legs shake even harder, as you feel Eren’s tongue attacking your clit at an even faster pace. You’re seeing stars and completely unaware of everything else, like how Eren’s nimble hands slid your panties down and tossed them to the side somewhere, landing near the bookshelf, so close to the edge when you feel his fingers teasing at your opening and plunge in without any warning.
You were completely right about your earlier predictions, feeling Eren quickly add a third finger inside you as you clasp a hand over your mouth to stop the obscene noises from leaving your mouth. You do have neighbors, after all, despite how much empty your head feels of every thought besides one; Eren.
He pulls his mouth away from your sensitive nerves for just a second, just to chastise you before continuing his actions.
“Don’t do that,” he says the words against your lips, “I want to hear you.”
You weren’t sure it was possible to feel even more pleasure than you were now, but Eren’s words made you feel feral as you let out another loud moan, this time not muffled. You think he calls you a good girl, but you’re not sure if it’s your imagination. You whine when you feel Eren pull his fingers out of you, suddenly so empty when you had been so full moments ago. You’re trying to collect the words to tell him to keep going, and how this is the second time he’s ruined your finishing, but you just can’t. The only thing that comes out is a mumble of ‘please’ and ‘Eren’
“Don’t worry, baby, I’m not stopping,” he says, pulling himself up and hovering over you. One of his strong arms is by your head, holding himself up as the other hand, the one that had been inside of you, finds its way to your mouth. “Open.”
You do as you’re told, dropping your jaw quickly for him as he shoves the fingers into your hot mouth.
“Suck.” Another command that has you reeling, doing exactly as he wants and swirling your tongue around Eren’s long fingers. They’re coated with your heady wetness, and the taste is unlike anything you’ve experienced before, but you don’t stop. It feels entirely too dirty and filthy, but you’re willing to do anything to get Eren’s approval now. His words are clear now.
“Good girl. Since you’ve been so good, I think you can cum now.”
His fingers leave your mouth quickly, and he’s fiddling with your hands now, that were previously gripping the sheets so tightly you were scared they might tear. He pulls up your shirt even more, exposing your tits to the cold air of the room, and puts your fingers on your hardened nipples. He doesn’t give a command, but you know it instinctively, that he wants you to play with your nipples while he makes you come. You’re not sure how long you’ll be able to follow his orders, but you go ahead anyways. You’re teasing yourself in front of his hungry, wolf-like gaze, as you clench on nothing every time you run your fingers over your sensitive nipples.
Satisfied, he returns back to his position between your legs. You’re crying out before his fingers even reach your wetness, and choke on your moan when he inserts three at once again. You know there’s no way you’ll be able to hold out now, and if he stops again you feel like you might explode into a million pieces. His tongue is rough against your clit, moving in the perfect motion, and one more thrust of his perfect fingers against that spot inside you will have you cumming so hard— Eren speaks against your pussy, a singular word.
“Cum.”
You feel the knot snap in your stomach and your orgasm shakes through you like a bolt of lightning. You hear yourself release a scream before you can stop it, fingers leaving your breasts and grasping onto Eren’s dark strands for dear life, because he hasn’t let up on his actions yet. He keeps going, riding you through it, tongue and mouth continuing on and fingers pumping in and out so quickly that the bedroom is filled with a crude, squelching noise. You’re not sure exactly how loud you were, but your throat is dry and scratchy, and you’re swallowing just to feel some relief. You feel Eren slowly retract his fingers, breathing heavy against the soft skin of your thigh, as you find your way back to reality. You don’t look down at Eren, but you hear him licking his fingers, tasting your wetness in such a sinful manner, you know you can’t look at him do it.
Reality sets in, and you look around your surroundings. Every single one of your senses had been preoccupied with Eren minutes ago, but now that they were free again, you take in the comfortable scent of the sheets and the lingering scent of your slick leaves your thoughts as you take in the familiar scent of old books. Your heartbeat was just returning to normal, when you look around and realize you’re in Armin’s room, on Armin’s bed, as Armin’s best friend gave you the most powerful orgasm of your life.
You sit up quickly, breathing rapidly as your shirt falls to cover yourself, and you meet Eren’s eyes again.
“Lay back, baby, we’re not done yet.” There’s a haze over your thoughts, and his words, because you want to fight him, and yell and scream at him for bringing you into Armin’s room when you already felt so horrible about what you’ve done, but you can’t summon anything. The only thing you can think about is Eren’s dick, and how it would feel inside you, and how your sensitive walls would take him. So you follow Eren’s orders, and lay back down. Eren hovers over you again, pulling at your shirt, up and over your head, and it lands with a soft thud on the carpet.
He’s looking at you now, up and down slowly, but different than all the other times. He doesn’t have to rush to take it all in this time, because you’re on display just for him now. So he takes his time, and starts with a soft kiss to the skin right above your heart, wondering if he can hear the hard thuds or if that’s just his imagination. You look at him while he continues his ministrations, wondering why he’s being so slow and careful, because you hadn’t expected this.
His lips work their way up, to your collarbone and then your neck, taking his time to suck on the skin and pepper it with kisses once he hears you hiss in pain. He murmurs an apology against your jaw, before his teeth take your bottom lip between them. He lets go soon after, too eager to feel your lips against his. He’s scared you might pull away, but you don’t. You know you’ve done something terrible, but it’s too late to take it back now.
He kisses you deeply, tongues finding each other and exchanging that heady taste of yourself. You moan into the kiss, your hands finding the side of Eren’s face and trying to push him onto yourself even harder. You’re not sure if you ever want to pull away from Eren’s lips, but he finally does, trying to catch his breath. You look into his green eyes for a moment, and find your own eyes watering.
“Don’t cry, baby. I’ll give you what you want.” Eren’s words send you scrambling again, too eager for the fullness you know is inevitable when he finally fucks you.
You feel yourself grabbing for the waistband of his sweats, but Eren’s faster than you. His one hand pins both of yours against your chest, as he clicks his tongue in that obnoxious way again.
“Patience. Only patient girls get daddy’s cock.” You want to scream at him about how patient you’ve been, all this time and all of tonight, but you bite your tongue. You don’t need Eren’s punishment on top of the torture he’s put you through already.
You let go of your resistance and watch with wide eyes as he removes the only thing that was in your way. His erect dick snaps up against his stomach once it’s freed, and you swallow without thinking, looking at the sheer size of him. He’s just as big as you had imagined, the tip a pretty, dark pink with white beads of pre-cum gathered at the top, and every vein causing you to descend further and further into a wanton state. It’s his thickness that you weren’t prepared for. If three of his fingers were such a tight stretch, you can only imagine what this would do to you. But at the same time, you think you might die if Eren doesn’t fuck you right now.
He watches with that damn smirk as you stare at his dick with more eagerness than he’s ever seen before. He holds his length in his hand, directing himself to your entrance but not pushing in. He holds himself there, running his dick over your folds and almost succumbing to the inviting wetness of your cunt, but he stops himself.
“Do you want my cock, baby?” Another surge of heat rushes through your body, feeling almost light-headed at how difficult he’s making this. But you weren’t about to start misbehaving now.
“Y-yes, yes, Eren, please-” You hiccup out, feeling yourself lose the battle against your watery eyes, as the tears roll down your face. “Please, I want it so badly, please, please, please—Oh!”
Eren pushes in without any warning, watery eyes being his own breaking point. He could have finished on the spot seeing you cry begging for his dick, and he was determined to make you cum again before then. The noises you’re making are incredibly obscene, and he knows you’re being loud enough to notify the entire floor, but he’s not going to stop you. He’s only about half way in, but he wants to be nice and let you adjust to him.
“P-please, Eren, please-” You’re not entirely sure what you’re begging Eren for. A part of you doesn’t think it’s possible to feel more full, and another part of you wants Eren to fuck you so hard you forget everything and everyone.
He’s about to chastise you again to be patient, and let you know that he’s doing this for you, not him, but he realizes his actions are louder than his words. With another thrust, he pushes his entire length in you. You moan again, this time with a breathy gasp, and he can’t help the smile on his face. You look so pretty crying, trying to take his entire dick and struggling immensely.
He thrusts slowly, wanting to make it last and make you feel every last vein of dick deep inside you, but the way your tight cunt grips him has him speeding up before he can help it. The noises filling Armin’s room are beyond lecherous, as the only sounds are of his tightening balls smacking against your skin with every deep thrust, and the lewd noise of your wetness taking him.
He’s got you on your back, sitting up between your thighs and one leg hoisted on his shoulder, and thrusting so hard you can feel his hip-bone bruising your skin. There’s only one thought left in your head, and that’s how good Eren feels inside you. The aching burn of his initial assault is long gone, leaving just the feeling of Eren filling you up. Your hands remember his earlier order and find their way to your hardened nipples again, pinching and teasing, putting on a show for Eren as he moans loudly. Every noise he makes goes straight to your core, making you clench around him harder than before.
His lithe fingers find your clit again, and you throw your head back and moan even louder at the feeling. You were so, so sensitive already and this was the last straw. One more of Eren’s thrusts, hitting that special spot inside you, and one more touch of his fingers on your clit sent you screaming to your second orgasm. You were clenching tightly, as Eren worked you through it again and kept his thrusts going. You were seeing black, screaming his name and God knows what else, as you came and waves of pleasure washed over you and heat radiated from your head to your toes.
Eren’s continued thrusts kept going, even after your pussy tightened around him. You were out of breath and sweaty, and you felt Eren’s hips stutter as he leaned forwards and found your hot mouth again. You were kissing again, his lips on yours as you swallowed his moans and grabbed his arms to steady yourself. With another rapid succession of thrusts, Eren moved his lips to your neck and groaned loudly as he came inside you. You felt the hot ropes of his cum deep inside your pussy, as he kept going and going, eventually pulling out of you with a heady moan. You could feel his cum leaking out of you and onto Armin’s sheets, as you laid incredibly still beside Eren, both of you trying to catch your breath. You were ashamed to look Eren in the eyes, avoiding his gaze still as you felt your heart rate return somewhat back to normal.
“Hey,” was all he said, breathlessly, and with a deep look in his eyes that you had never seen before. “Are you okay?”
He straightened himself up, leaning against the bed frame and opening his arms in an inviting manner. You wanted nothing more than to avoid his touch, but you felt the exhaustion in your limbs and you convinced yourself there was nothing wrong with being held by him for a few minutes. You leaned against his chest, his strong arms wrapping around you and pulling up the covers to shield you both from the cold air. You were content to fall asleep right here, every sense of yours taken up by Eren, but you couldn’t just yet.
“What are we going to tell Armin?” you breathed out dejectedly. It was the one thought that was plaguing your mind, the one thought stopping you from being happy and peaceful beside Eren tonight.
“Oh, baby. You’re acting like this entire thing this wasn’t his idea.”
...
thanks for reading! part two with armin, anyone?
#eren yeager#eren jaeger#eren yeager smut#eren smut#eren yeager imagine#eren jaeger smut#eren x reader#aot#attack on titan#attack on titan imagine#snk#eren jaeger imagine#armin arlert#fics
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Have I Been Bad, Officer?
Nesta Archeron x Cassian - Handcuffs Oneshot
Nesta surprises Cassian for a little Anniversary fun. Turns out, real handcuffs work better than sex-shop knock-offs.
Written for Nessian Month @illyrianet
Prompt: Handcuffs
Masterlist | Read on Ao3
Warnings: Language, NSFW, Police/Handcuffs
4102 words
*******
Cassian watched as another car approached his police cruiser, spotted it, and abruptly slowed down to pass him. Even pulled off on the shoulder of the road, the logo of Velaris PD stood out on the side of the car.
He rolled his eyes. Normally he would have cared more, but that was the only car he’d seen in the last ten minutes and he was already in a bad mood; he decided it was best for everyone if he didn’t take his frustration out on whatever poor driver had the bad luck of getting his attention.
He shouldn’t be sitting in his patrol car waiting to pull people over for speeding. He should be at home with his beautiful, devious wife, celebrating their anniversary.
Cassian had made a point to ask for the day off. The next two days off, actually. He wasn’t going to rush any of their anniversary plans. But then an officer called in sick, and another had a family emergency, and suddenly Cassian was being dragged into work because a personal day took less preference, unfortunately.
Nesta understood. At first, she’d threatened to go down to the precinct and tell his chief exactly what she thought about the decision, but Cassian convinced her that if she did that then he’d be fired and would consequently have every day off. It sounded good until he reminded both of them that being fired means he wouldn’t be making money, and it turns out you need money to live.
And although Nesta understood, she certainly wasn’t making it easy on him. Every fifteen minutes his phone chimed with a new message from her.
At first, it was just an ‘I love you’, and ‘Happy Anniversary’, but that soon turned into her explaining all things she was going to do to him when he got home.
And all the things she wanted him to do to her.
Then the pictures started.
Each new picture showed Nesta in a different outfit. A few were of her in different lingerie sets, a couple of them, Cassian noted excitedly, were ones he hadn’t seen before.
Another picture was of her in just his shirt, kneeling on the ground, back arched with her nipples pressing through the fabric.
The latest one was of Nesta in nothing but his uniform’s hat, and bright red lipstick.
Groaning loudly, Cassian rubbed his hands over his face. He willed his cock to calm down and counted down the seconds until he could get home and follow through with some of the requests she made.
The next twenty minutes passed without any more cars driving by and without any more of Nesta’s texts. Good, he thought, she was done torturing him when he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
Cassian noticed a set of headlights approaching in the distance. Still mostly hidden from view, he watched as the car sped past him. Speeding. He rolled his eyes and watched for more cars.
He didn’t have to wait long. A minute later a car sped by him going the other direction. Cassian sat up at full attention; it was the same car, but this time it was driving even faster.
He watched as the car took the next exit, turned around, and drove back towards him.
Confused, Cassian waited until it was almost to him and then he turned on his lights and sirens and pulled out into the road behind the strange car.
Almost immediately, the driver slowed and pulled off onto the road’s shoulder.
In the shine of his headlights, Cassian could easily read the license plate of the familiar-looking car he stopped. He recognized it as easily as he knew his own.
It was Nesta’s car.
And she had driven by more than once to get his attention. Chuckling to himself, Cassian slowly got out of his cruiser and strutted over to her driver’s side window.
He shined his flashlight in her face, careful not to blind her with the harsh light, and smirked broadly as he leaned his elbows against the open window. Her hair was loose in waves down her back—his favorite look on her—, she wore a long coat with a belt tied around her waist and the top two buttons open allowing him a peek of her cleavage when she leaned closer. She also had on bright red lipstick that Cassian couldn’t wait to attempt to ruin; Nesta had long since started buying smudge-proof lipstick, but Cassian always like to test the limits of her makeup.
He didn’t say anything at first, instead, waiting for her to explain what she was doing. But she just blinked up at him innocently and smiled with her blood-red lips.
She was up to something, but Cassian thought he was going to enjoy whatever she had planned, so he played along.
“Are you aware that you were speeding, miss?” Cassian asked in his best authoritative voice. He had perfected a lot of voices when it came to Nesta. The soft voice he used when she was reading and he didn’t want to disturb her; the charming, cocky voice he used when flirting with her; the rough, low voice he used whenever he wanted to make her particularly wet; but this one, his ‘cop-voice’ was one she loved to hear when he was in control.
Her smile slowly morphed into a smirk.
“I absolutely was speeding,” she paused and leaned forward, the neck of her jacket opened further and Cassian could see the swells of her breasts as she said in a low voice, “Officer.”
He suppressed a groan. She knew what that did to him. And if the satisfied look in her eyes was any indication, his own had turned dark and hungry at her tone.
If this is how she wanted to play, he would gladly oblige her.
“You were driving real fast. Very dangerous.” Cassian’s eyes remained locked with hers. “I’m not sure if I can let you go with just a warning. You seemed pretty determined to catch my attention.” Cassian’s smirk grew.
“Are you going to write me up? Give me a ticket?” Her gaze dropped to where his notepad was stuffed into his belt and slowly raked her eyes back up to his. “Have I been bad, Officer?”
Fuck. He chuckled wickedly and made a show of looking around the dark, empty road. He hadn’t seen another car pass by for a while and he doubted there would be anyone for a while.
“Nes, sweetheart.�� This time, when he leaned down his gaze lingered on her open collar. “I’m not going to give you a ticket.”
Nesta’s smile turned feline, and Cassian felt like he’d walked right into her snare.
“Then I guess,” her voice dropped low and she looked up at him through her eyelashes, “you’ll have to punish me some other way, Officer.”
This time, Cassian didn’t muffle his groan of approval. He pushed himself off the car door and shot her a broad grin before schooling his features into a stern, disapproving mask.
“I’m gonna need you to step out of the car.”
Still smirking, Nesta slowly opened the door. As she brought one leg out and then the other, setting them on the pavement, Cassian noticed that her coat exposed her bare thigh and he wondered what exactly she was wearing underneath. Or not wearing if he knew Nesta—and he prided himself in knowing Nesta.
She stood up and shut the door.
Cassian took a moment to look her up and down. He took in her long tousled hair, red lips, trench coat—he realized now—and the pair of black patent leather stilettos. He didn’t hide his desire; he knew his face must look ravenous, and he could feel where his pants were stretched tightly, showing her the shape of his hard cock.
A slow smirk spread across his face.
He motioned for her to walk around to the other side of her car. The side farther away from the road and the scarce light.
“Turn around.” He ordered.
She turned, pressing her front into the car’s frame, waiting until the last second to tear her eyes from his. He stepped closer to her until he was almost pressed against her and pulled her hair away from her ear to say, “I need to pat you down. Gotta make sure you don’t have anything dangerous on you.”
She shivered as his breath hit the arch of her ear.
His hands rested on her shoulders before slowly trailing down her arms.
“No knives,” His hands came back up and then tracked down her back, running a finger along the curve of her spine.
“No guns.” His fingers gripped her waist and in a quick motion, pulled her hips flush against his so she could feel exactly how turned on he was by her little game. He felt her ass rub up against his erection and held in a groan.
“No pepper spray.” He used one foot to kick her legs apart. One hand pressed on her upper back, making her lean further into the car. With her ass pushed out and feet spread apart, he gave her round backside a quick slap that caused her to gasp in surprise and gripped her hips to hold her in place.
“Don’t move,” Cassian commanded gruffly and he thought he heard a soft moan escape Nesta’s lips.
He pressed his body into hers, keeping her in place while he moved one hand to her hip as the other snaked its way around to grip her throat. Not too constricting, but just enough that she knew who was in charge
“What was that you said about punishing you?” Cassian’s hand on her hip moved down across her ass and then lower, taunting her with his touch. When she didn’t answer, just let out another low moan, he tightened his grip on her throat and cupped her through her panties.
Or, he would have if she’d been wearing any.
He moaned at the feeling of her warm, slick cunt against his fingers. Nesta’s words were cut off by a strangled gasp.
“Punish me.” She urged and tried to force her hips backward as he slowly moved his fingers along her slit, coating them in her wetness, before moving them up to circle her clit.
He hummed, considering. “You want me to punish you? I know you do, you’re so wet for me already,” he spoke into her ear, reveling in the sounds he was pulling from her.
“More, please,” Nesta gasped as his finger ghosted over her opening. “I’ve been bad, Officer.”
“You have.” He agreed and shoved two fingers into her soaking pussy.
She moaned loudly and splayed her hands across the top of the car trying to get a grip as he thrust into her relentlessly. His hand around her throat moved to reach into her coat and grasp one of her breasts.
Gods, she wasn’t wearing anything under her jacket.
He pulled his fingers all the way out, loving the whimper she made at the loss of sensation, only to add a third and resume his thrusts.
She moaned even louder as the hand at her breast rolled her nipple between his fingers and tweaked it harshly.
“Cass, please.” She begged. He loved it when she begged.
He grunted and pulled his fingers from her. Before she could protest, he spun her around so that her back was leaning against the car and she was staring at him with hooded eyes, breasts heaving as she breathed heavily.
He held her gaze as he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked every last drop of her arousal from them.
“Was that my punishment?” Nesta panted, frustrated that he didn’t make her finish.
Cassian stepped up to her and raised a brow.
“If you think that was your punishment, then you’ve got another thing coming, sweetheart.” He winked and leaned down as if to kiss her, but ducked his head at the last second to attach his mouth to her neck, sucking small bruises along her collar bone and throat.
Nesta reached down and untied the belt holding her jacket together. With a few quick movements, she had it open, off her body, and flung to the ground several feet away from them. Now she was leaning against the car wearing nothing but her heels.
“Then finish the job, Officer.”
With a growl, he gripped her face and kissed her fiercely. It wasn’t tender or loving—those kisses were for later. This was hungry, ravenous, filled with uncontrolled desire.
It was teeth and tongues clashing, claiming the other as best they could.
He broke away and smirked again.
“With pleasure.”
Then he dropped to his knees and hooked one of her legs over his shoulder. From his position, he noticed the underside of her stilettos was a bright red that matched her lips. He ran his hands up either side of her legs and watched Nesta shudder with anticipation before dipping his head between her thighs.
The sound of her moan and her head falling back to land on the car were almost as delicious as the taste of her on his tongue.
Cassian was relentless. He savored her taste and her moans as he devoured her. He knew exactly what she liked and she was already so close to the edge from the way his fingers had fucked her moments before.
Her moans grew louder and she fisted one hand in his hair, keeping him close. If he could, he would laugh; if she thought he would willingly abandon her soaking pussy right now she was insane. He would finish what he started, and then he’d make her beg for more
His tongue moved from where it was spearing into her to circle and suck her clit. He used two of his fingers to replace where his tongue had been inside her and curled them just right.
“Cassian!” Nesta’s head flew back and she shuddered as release barreled through her. The hands in his hair became almost unbearable tight, but he continued to eat her out slowly as she came down from her high.
When he was sure she’d ridden out the last wave, he stood up and held her gaze as he licked his lips. Her smoldering, lustful gaze heated further and she grabbed the back of his neck to pull him against her. Nesta tasted herself on Cassian’s lips and moaned.
She kissed down his jawline. She was so turned on knowing she was completely naked and he was still fully dressed.
Cassian grabbed her and reached for something on his belt, but she was too distracted to notice what it was. His hands ran down her arms and the next thing she knew, her own hands were behind her back and cold metal encircled them.
She broke the kiss to see his satisfied face. Raising an eyebrow she tested the stretch of the handcuffs he’d put on her.
“These are strong.” She commented on them, smirking, trying to pull her wrists apart.
Cassian flipped them around so he was now against the car. “They’re the real deal, baby.” Then he chuckled and unbuckled his belt.
Nesta watched hungrily as his fingers unbuttoned his pants and Cassian’s hard cock sprung free, desperate for attention.
He stroked himself a few times, loving the way her eyes were glued to his moving hand. “Now be a good girl and get on your knees.”
Nesta kicked off her heels and lowered herself to the ground, all the while looking at Cassian from beneath her eyelashes.
“Now what, Officer?” She goaded him innocently.
“Now show me what that smart mouth of yours can do.” He ran a hand through her hair before fisting it and bringing her face closer to his rock-hard cock. “And maybe it’ll make up for the way you behaved.”
She gave him one last smirk before leaning forwards and taking the tip of him into her mouth. He moaned at the feeling of her hot, wet mouth wrapped around him.
She sucked lightly, swirling her tongue over the slit. Cassian hissed a sharp breath and tightened his grip in her hair. She looked up at him as she started bobbing her head up and down.
“That’s it,” He groaned again as she hollowed her cheeks and sucked deeply. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”
Then she pushed forward until her nose hit his pelvis and Cassian let out a loud groan.
She pulled away once to take a breath and then he was pushing her back down, using his grip in her hair to move her head up and down. She gagged as the tip of him hit the back of her throat but Cassian kept her head moving.
“Fuck.” He choked out, “ You’re perfect. Your tight little throat takes me so well. Can’t wait to fuck your dripping pussy.” He met her watering eyes and felt the moan she released at his words vibrate around his cock. “Look at you, on your knees, hands cuffed behind your back, ugh, Nes—”
The vibrations of her moans combined and the feeling of his tip brushing the back of her throat sent him over the edge. He went rigged and loosened his grip on her hair as he released down her throat. She took all of him, swallowing every last drop. Nesta leaned back on her heels and slowly released him with an audible pop.
He helped her get to her feet so she wouldn’t lose her balance since her hands were still locked behind her back, and swiped his thumb over her red, swollen lip.
He dragged her towards him for a bruising kiss.
“Gods, I love you.” He groaned against her mouth.
She pulled away to smile, “I love you too. Now take off your shirt.”
Cassian threw his head back and laughed but obeyed.
Once his own clothes were on the ground with hers, he opened the door to the back seat of her car and nudged her towards it.
She raised a brow at him and gestured with her still-bound hands. “Are these staying on?”
He stepped into her space and kissed her neck, sucking on the spot between her shoulder and neck that had her whimpering. “Do you want them to stay on?”
Nesta had a hard time responding once he moved to the seat behind her ear. “Yes,” She gasped, her head falling back. “Yes.”
She felt him smirk against her skin.
“Then they stay on,” Cassian commanded roughly.
She sent him another sultry smile. “Whatever you say, Officer.”
Cassian pulled Nesta as close he could get her with her hands cuffed behind her back; her back against his hard chest. One of his large hands wrapped around her throat and the other started rubbing soft circles over her clit. Nesta’s head fell back against his shoulder.
“Are you ready, sweetheart?” His voice was rough. “You’ve been driving me crazy with your texts and those fucking pictures. When we get home I want you to show me all those new sets of lingerie.” He nipped at her ear, his fingers moving a little faster. “But maybe you should start with your least favorite because I think I’ll just rip it off you.”
She groaned as he eased one finger inside her. “Oh yeah, you’re ready.”
He removed his finger and bent her over. Her face was pushed into the leather cushion with her knees spread resting on the seat, ass in the air.
Cassian ran a possessive hand over her spine and slapped her ass forcing her to moan into the seat. He stepped up behind her so she could feel his hard length press between her ass cheeks.
“Happy anniversary, Sweetheart.”
And then he pushed into her dripping cunt with one quick thrust. They both moaned loudly as they got used to the feeling. When Nesta moved her hips back trying to gain some friction, he gripped her hips and kept her still.
“Oh, gods, Cassian,” Her moans were muffled by the leather seat.
Chuckling, he started to move. Each thrust brought pleasure surging through him. By the sounds Nesta was making, he knew she was feeling the same.
“Faster.” She demanded. “Harder.”
He grunted and grabbed her hips with both hands, trying his best not to shove her face into the seat but still doing what she asked.
He planted his feet better and then fucked into her with everything he had.
There was a cacophony of sounds; Cassian’s grunts, Nesta’s incomprehensible moans, the wet, vulgar sound of skin on skin, and the rhythmic creaking of the car shaking.
He shifted Nesta’s hip and hit a spot that sent her squealing,
“Yes! Cass, right there!” She screamed and he made sure to hit that spot with every thrust.
Soon enough, he felt her walls clenching around him and he gritted his teeth as she screamed his name as she orgasmed.
Cassian made sure to keep up his pace throughout the entire thing.
When he felt her stop pulsing with the aftershocks, he used an arm to wrap around her middle, pulling her up against him as best he could with her hands still bound. Still inside her, he moved a hand up to fondle her breasts and tweak her nipples, switching between her breasts at random.
His hips sped up, every thrust coaxing a new moan out of Nesta. He wanted to memorize all the sounds she made.
“Please, Cassian.” She gasped, already feeling another orgasm start to build in the pit of her stomach.
Cassian turned her head towards him and planted a surprisingly tender kiss to lips. He felt her smiling and he couldn’t help but smile against her lips, too.
Then the hand at her breasts moved to grip her throat, squeezing tightly until she choked and he lessened his grip a fraction. His other hand, the one wrapped around her waist moved down to rub furiously at her clit. Cassian kept his thrusts hard and fast. Just how she liked it.
Nesta let out a high-pitched squeal at all the sensations. Her mind was fuzzy from the pleasure—every single nerve ending was on fire from Cassian’s touches.
“Come for me, Sweetheart.” He murmured in her ear. That was all she needed, and she exploded. She screamed loudly, head thrown back onto his shoulder giving him perfect access to kiss and suck her neck, and her whole body shook from the reverberations of her release.
The feeling of her pussy clenching like a vice around his cock sent Cassian plowing into his own orgasm and he spilled inside her. She continued to shake as the aftershocks coursed through her body.
Cassian held her against him until they both recovered, hands running soothingly over her body. Then he slowly pulled out of her and she loosed a soft whine.
He chuckled but dug around his discarded pant’s pocket for the key to his handcuffs. He quickly unlocked them and winced at the bright red marks on Nesta’s wrists. She sighed in relief as the metal was removed and gently rubbed her sore wrists.
Instantly, all remaining lust faded away and Cassian was filled with guilt as he gently took Nesta’s wrists in his hands and kissed the tender flesh.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”
Nesta cut him off, “Cassian, it’s okay.” She lifted his chin to meet her hazy, post-orgasm eyes, “I liked it, don’t worry.”
He just stared at her wrists, but she grabbed his arm and pulled him into the back seat of the car with her. She gently pushed him against the back and laid down next to him, grabbing the spare blanket tucked under the driver’s seat and tossed it over them.
Nesta ran reassuring hands over Cassian’s guilt-ridden face, as he wrapped his arms around her and tugged her close to him. “Really, Cass. If you ever want to bring those home with you, feel free.”
At his raised brows she added, “The ones we already have don’t feel as authentic.”
He searched her face for any discomfort and finding none, laughed. He pulled her even closer and she sighed contentedly at his warmth as his arms tightened around her body.
“I’ll see what other toys I can bring home, too.”
She kissed his chest and he rested his chin on top of her head.
“Happy Anniversary, Babe,” Nesta whispered, smiling into his skin.
Cassian chuckled into her hair and pulled her tighter against him. “Happy Anniversary, Sweetheart.”
*****
Taglist:
@acourtofsnakes @allthebooksunderthemoon @astra-ad-mare @becarefuloflove @bisexual-genderfluid-loki @booklover41802 @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @danibutterr @doubt-less @emily-gsh @enormousbooklover @foughtconquered @fromthelibraryofemilyj @hakunamatatazz @i-have-but-one-brain-cell @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jorjy-jo @lemonade-coolattas @mariamuses @mayhemories @midsizewitch @miserablesmusings @morganofthewildfire @nehemikkele @rowaelinismyotp @rowansfirebringer @sayosdreams @sheharahu @sleeping-and-books @stardelia @story-scribbler @superspiritfestival @surielandiareendgame @swankii-art-teacher @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @ladygabrielli1997
#nessianmonth#nessian#nesta#nesta archeron#cassian#nesta x cassian#cassian x nesta#nesta and cassian#cassian and nesta#nessian fic#nessian fanfiction#nessian sex scenes#nessian smut#smut#handcuffs#cop Cassian#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#fanfic#fanfiction#au
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BnHA Chapter 309: Gotta Go My Own Way
Previously on BnHA: Muscular was all “well if it isn’t the protagonist on his solo journey of self-discovery, for some reason I’m unironically glad I get to fight you!” Deku was all “hey Muscular before I finish kicking your ass would you please take a moment to answer these two survey questions? Question one, do you regret being a total piece of shit? And question two, if you could do anything at all in the world other than being a total piece of shit, would you?” Muscular was all, “pfft, no and no.” Deku was all, “thanks buddy, your feedback helps make me a better hero, here’s a coupon for fifteen percent off your next ass-whooping.” Then he whooped his ass.
Today on BnHA: Deku is all “what up All Might can you believe you’ve been here this entire time?” All Might is all “I sure can since that’s literally my catch phrase, anyway how are your magic movie 1 gauntlets holding up?” Deku is all “they’re holding up fine, how are Hawks, Endeavor, and Best Jeanist doing?” Hawks, Endeavor, and Best Jeanist are all “we, your fellow co-conspirators, are also doing fine, thanks for asking!” Flashback!Deku is all “anyway so I secretly have All Might’s quirk and the most dangerous people in the world are after me, so sorry mom but that’s why I’m dropping out of school.” Inko is all “I CAN’T ACCEPT THAT” while totally accepting it. All Might is all “I GUESS WE’LL JUST HAVE TO GO ALONG WITH IT SINCE I DON’T FEEL LIKE TRYING TO STOP HIM.” Hawks, Jeanist, and Endeavor, as previously mentioned, are all “yeah that sounds like a good plan”, and Gran is all “see ya kid, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” So basically everyone in the entire world has suddenly teamed up with Deku to defeat AFO, except for the one person whose entire foreshadowed endgame is “teaming up with Deku to defeat AFO.” O Kacchan where art thou.
dear tumblr image limit: okay look. you don’t like me, and I don’t like you. but just as an experiment, I’m gonna try writing this recap with as few images as possible and we’ll see how it goes
(ETA: spoilers for how it went: it didn’t, lol.)
oh my god WHY ARE WE OPENING WITH MORE KETSUBUTSU ACADEMY KIDS.ffs we’d better at least finally get some Ms. Joke content out of this
(ETA: seriously who do I have to bribe.)
so these two KB kids who no one cares about are watching Deku leap away from the scene after dispatching Muscular. but more importantly wtf is this chapter title omg. “I can’t stay being a child” so that’s how it is huh. we’re gonna have feels and we’re going to like them. well then
oh my god he’s hauling Muscular away dhfksklfkh okay this is gonna have to be our first image because I can’t fucking help myself. look at this
just. Deku is so tiny and he’s carting away this massive unconscious lump of a man like it’s nothing why is this so funny to me. it’s like when people buy furniture, and they don’t want to pay extra for delivery and so they’re like, “I can definitely fit this king-sized mattress in the back of my compact sedan if I fold the fucking seat down, idk.” and they refuse to be talked out of it, and the next thing you know you’re watching them drive home with their open trunk door haphazardly tied down with bungee cords, and somehow it fucking works. because it turns out the compact sedan has super strength
anyway for SOME REASON now Horikoshi is all “have fun with that Deku, meanwhile we now return you to your regularly scheduled SHINDOU CONTENT” whyyyyyy
look at this. we’re really using up a whole fucking entire page on everyone arguing over who gets the honor of carrying Shindou
love how the civilians are all, “shit lol is this actually our fault?? quick, how do we play this off all casual like we were the reasonable parties here all along”
turns out all it took to finally get them to listen was making them watch while a kid got his insides ground into a pulp because of their stupidity!! what a heartwarming conclusion to this little standoff
anyways THANK GOD we’re cutting back to Deku now!! well actually we’re cutting back to Muscular who is being dropped off at the police precinct, good bye and good riddance lol
so Deku’s leaving him there and bounding away and okjdlSKFJLKJDSL OH MY GOD
no fucking way. no fucking way this little jaunt is All Might-sanctioned and approved. are you serious?? then who else is in on this?? what the hell is going on
so All Might is just WAITING FOR HIM IN AN ALLEY FFF WHO ARE YOU, JIM GORDON. or would Alfred be a better analogy here?? but like, Alfred if he ditched the suit for a moto jacket and shades
this new ensemble of All Might’s may or may not severely impact my ability to take this forthcoming conversation seriously; please stand by
also, quite the spectacular landing there, Deku. seriously lol what was that
“HOW ARE YOUR LIMBS” “THANKS TO YOU THEY’RE COMPLETELY FINE” I’M SORRY WHAT
LOL WHAT. “THANKS TO THE POWER OF THESE MAGIC GLOVES” OH I SEE THAT EXPLAINS IT
are these the same gauntlets from the first movie, then? well that’s all well and good, except that now there’s going to be more Deku Discourse than fucking ever lol. so if it’s all the same to you guys, I’m gonna once again go ahead and declare this week’s post a discourse-free zone, at least when it comes to the specific discourse of Deku’s merits as a MC, and the impact that him kicking ass and having working arms has on said merits. this has been something of a low mental energy week for me, so I’d rather reserve the energy I do have for more fun topics, such as All Might’s bitchin’ leather jacket
anyway so All Might’s saying that the gauntlets will help reinforce Deku’s arms, but they can’t withstand OFA at 100%. so basically it’s a support item designed to maintain the status quo lol. we’re basically in the same situation we were before, arm-capability-wise
homg All Might’s getting a call. time to see who else is in on Operation: Deku Alone?? or not so alone for that matter
omg
HI HAWKS, WHERE ARE YOUR WINGS
(ETA: seriously are they really gone for good?? why would he even be back on active duty then?? does he have his own American ex-boyfriend who can hook him up with exclusive support items?? dammit Horikoshi we want answers.)
looks like Jeanist and Endeavor are teaming up as well, just like they said they would. I would gladly follow this trio around all day long tbh
is this the same giant villain from the very first chapter??
looks like it to me, and it would tie in with that callback from the end of chapter 306. we all thought that was Muscular, but maybe it was this guy, and Deku left these three to deal with him while he ran off to take Muscular down
oh my god now Deku is running off again just like that
kids these days
ffffff I have not had nearly enough sleep to follow along with whatever tf Hawks is talking about here sob
like, is he trying to say that All Might is keeping Deku’s whereabouts unknown to anyone except for him?? in order to keep him safe?? but Hawks is pointing out that that’s a bad strategy and probably won’t do shit against AFO and it’s better if he lets Deku work with the rest of them?
(ETA: so @hanashimas’ translation makes a lot more sense -- it’s not All Might who’s being overprotective, but Deku. in other words he’s trying not to drag All Might into his battles. and in addition Hawks is saying that their strategy is to take the offensive and go after AFO themselves rather than wait for him to come to them. which I’m not too sure about myself, but that’s another topic for another day.)
btw I can’t help thinking how much better this entire conversation would be if All Might was still wearing his sunglasses. put them back on my dude. it’s not too late. embrace your inner badass
DKLJSLDKFJL FLASHBACK ALERT, FUCKING FINALLY
“turns out, we were just trying to scare you straight. fuck lot of good that did though lol”
also what is this. one true love: the hospital bed. is that a scanlator joke or is Horikoshi actually that funny omg
SKLJDFLJLK
ITSA ME!! omg I love this hospital so much. though it’s sure not helping me in my quest to try and keep this post below ten images. I’m already up to eleven haha r.i.p. to me if tumblr doesn’t get its shit together
whaaaaaat, so he’s saying that Deku’s injuries were external (i.e. Tomura beating the shit out of him) rather than internal this time?? whaaaaat. excuse me but that’s some bullshit lmao. believe me, I was there
okay now he’s going on to explain that Deku’s “internal structure” seems to have been protected from the inside and out, and the corresponding panel seems to be implying that using Blackwhip as a brace paid off. huh
and also that his body is just stronger now?? so I guess he’s better able to withstand the quirk after an additional year of training?? I’M NOT SURE IF I BUY ANY OF THIS LOL but I’m willing to suspend my disbelief
OH MY GOD RED ALERT, INKO IS ASKING ALL MIGHT TO EXPLAIN WTAF DEKU’S QUIRK IS, IS IT FINALLY THAT TIME OMGGGG
SO HE’S EXPLAINING IT TO HER OFF-SCREEN, AND INKO IS JUST LIKE
I GUESS THAT’S FAIR LOL. IT’S TRUE INKO I’M SO SORRY, YOUR SON IS A PROGATONIST R.I.P.
AHHKKJH DEKU ANGST IS IT FINALLY THAT TIME OMGGGGGG
what is this soft pop beat that’s suddenly being pumped in over the speakers. I’VE GOT TO MOVE ON~ AND BE WHO~ I~ AM~~~, I JUST DON’T BELONG HERE, I HOPE YOU UNDERSTAAAAAAAND. also, follow-up question, when is Kacchan finally going to come back so he can jump in with the “WHAT ABOUT US~~~” bridge, huh. come the fuck on, Horikoshi
lmao All Might jesus christ
but given that it’s a stupid-ass decision...
anyway, yes!! finally that sweet, sweet “I don’t want to put anyone else in danger” angst!!
mmm that’s good angst Brent. Kacchan with center panel honors as usual, you love to see it. anyways though who do I have to yell at to get Deku a goddamn HUG around here seriously
so Inko is of course reacting with panic, and sensibly saying that she doesn’t approve of Deku’s “RUN AWAY AND FIGHT THE BAD GUYS ALL ON MY OWN, DON’T WORRY MOM I’LL JUST GET STRONGER, EASY AS PIE, IT’S A FOOLPROOF STRATEGY” plan
son of a bitch this manipulative green asshole is really gonna sit here and smile fondly at his mom and try to convince her that he’s Not A Little Kid Anymore. the hell you’re not mister
y'all are really just gonna sit there and let him talk you into this?? surely it can’t be that easy??
OH MY GOD
THE FEELS oh my god oh my god. BUT ALSO YOU’RE SERIOUSLY JUST GOING TO COLLAPSE INTO HIS ARMS SOBBING AND LET HIM DO WHATEVER THE FUCK HE WANTS LKJLJLFK. WHERE ARE ALL THE STRICT PARENTS AT?? AIZAWA, GANG ORCA, MITSUKI, SOMEONE PLEASE COME AND TELL DEKU TO SIT HIS ASS THE FUCK DOWN. NOW LISTEN HERE YOUNG MAN!!
“EVEN IF I TRY TO STOP YOU YOU’LL STILL LEAVE” WELL SURE, IF BY “TRY TO STOP HIM” YOU MEAN POLITELY TRY TO TALK HIM OUT OF IT FOR THREE SECONDS. HE’S SIXTEEN WTF WHEN DID HE BECOME THE BOSS OF YOU ALL. SOMEONE NEEDS TO COME AND TELL HIM HE’S GROUNDED
anyway sob so that’s the story of how Deku talked his parents into letting him drop out of school, and even convinced All Might to be his own personal Guy In The Chair. holy shit. this kid really went and rolled a nat 20 and the rest of them had no choice but to fold without argument
meanwhile here’s a panel of Best Jeanist trying to braid his phone into his hair just cuz
I’m dying to know which part of his language he considers to be crude here. you literally didn’t even use a contraction my guy
so now flashback!Deku is talking to Gran in the dark, and Gran is all “can you believe I’m not fucking dead yet lol that’s too funny. anyway, you sure I can’t interest you in killing Tomura after all?? no?? okay then here’s my cape.” truly a heartwarming scene
I’m kind of torn here tbh. on the one hand, my adhd ass wasn’t all that interested in sitting down and having an extended scene between these two when there’s so much else that I want to get to. but on the other hand, even I can admit that cramming this entire reunion into a single page seems just a BIT rushed. idk. like maybe someone can let Horikoshi know it’s a marathon and not a race. Deku didn’t even get any dialogue here, some of us want to know his thoughts!! but anyway
AND JUST LIKE THAT?!
how did all four of them let him con them into this. I literally just watched it happen and I still can’t figure out how. “I GUESS THIS SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLD HIGH SCHOOL DROPOUT IS OUR LEADER NOW” ffflfjf. when Aizawa finds out he’s gonna go apeshit. AND DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON BAKUGOU KATSUKI, WHO I HAVE BEEN ASSURED DOES IN FACT STILL EXIST. WHAT ABOUT USSSSS, WHAT ABOUT EVERYTHING WE’VE BEEN THROUGH. WHAT ABOUT TRUST???! YOU KNOW I NEVER WANTED TO HURT YOUUUUU
btw lol don’t get me wrong, I am enjoying this, and I’m honestly glad Deku’s not alone because that would suck for him! but that said, Hawks and Jeanist have lost any credibility they might have once had as far as being The Responsible Ones, and as for All Might and Endeavor, fucking hell lol. everyone just deposited all of their fucks in a bank somewhere for safekeeping and decided to never look back. godspeed you mad lads
#bnha 309#midoriya izuku#all might#midoriya inko#gran torino#hawks#best jeanist#endeavor#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha#petition for kacchan to form his own dynamic battle squad whose sole purpose is hunting down deku and talking some sense into him#if deku gets to drop out of school and make his own rules than so do we#what do you say icyhot are you in#actually can you just text your dad and ask him where deku is#maybe save us all some trouble
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Fighting Fire With Fire (Reid Fic)
Summary: Reader must lower her pride after a date goes wrong and the only one who can rescue her is her mortal enemy - Spencer Reid.
A/N: This was a beast of a fic to write. It’s been in my WIP since September, and I managed to go from 11 pages to 22 pages in three days. It is now my longest fic thus far. I am insanely fucking proud of it and I hope it does well.
Category: Angst
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Content Warning: allusions to ‘catfishing,’ allusions to abduction, dub-con to taking provocative photos, alcohol, mentions of bruises, jealousy, carrying hug which implies weight of Reader (lmk if I missed anything)
Word Count: 11.7k
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
I tried to play nice; I really did, but there was no getting through to him. Everyday started and ended with us fighting fire with fire.
Maybe the reason the two of you butt heads so often is because of how similar you are.
That’s what the team would say when Spencer and I got into one of our daily (sometimes hourly) arguments.
They constantly encouraged us to get to know each other so that we’d finally see the likeness, and until recently, I wasn’t opposed to the idea. I was willing to do whatever it took to get him to like me. However, as previously mentioned, my willingness quickly dissipated in light of recent events.
Voluntarily spending more time than necessary with him would be a recipe for disaster no doubt.
Somehow, in a matter of a month, Reid decided that he simply did not enjoy my presence, which was the nice way of putting it.
To be more crass, he loathed me to no end.
Initially, I was operating under the assumption that he wasn’t fond of change, and with me joining the BAU, the change was too much too fast for him, but after four weeks, his attitude toward me never deviated. Yet again, I made another excuse for him, arguing to myself that people are allowed to not like me. I could respect that, but where he lost my respect was how he made a conscious effort to remind me of how much he despised me. Even when I was at my nicest, he still treated me like a scelerate.
If there was a prize for gaining a mortal enemy in the shortest amount of time, I guess I already won that without even trying. He hated me with a burning passion, for reasons unbeknownst to me, despite the fact that all I’d ever try to do was be his friend.
For far too long, I kept denying the part of me that knew making peace with him outside of work wouldn’t go well and it’d simply go down in history as another failed attempt of mine to form a bond with him, so it was at this point that I decided to face the facts.
He didn’t make it easy for me, either. It was hard having to be kind to someone that was only ever out to get me.
He would constantly correct me but only after I said something incorrectly, just so he could prove me wrong.
“If each police officer patrols a street, we’ll be able to cover the entire comfort zone.”
“Actually, we’d need three more officers if we want to cover the entire comfort zone. There’s still 2.347 miles that are unaccounted for.”
I never understood why he couldn’t just say his piece before me so that I didn’t look like an idiot, but I suppose that was the point.
And he had this infuriating, unwarranted habit of judging my taste in cinema and literature. Anytime I told Emily or Derek about a movie I saw or told Rossi about a book I read, he felt compelled to share his antagonistic opinions as if I asked for them in the first place. Sometimes even spoiling the endings for me!
“Rossi, I just started reading Doctor Sleep!” I was so eager to tell Rossi that, so much so that I’d become blind to one dark cloud’s own eagerness to ruin the fun.
“The hotel burns to the ground, but the ghosts don’t die with it.”
He said it with such monotony and nonchalance, not even bothering to look up from his own book to watch my reaction to his menacing act. He just didn’t care!
The list of reasons not to like him truly did go on and on, so it was almost insulting how people would compare the two of us.
They’d bring up the congruence in intelligence, the same affinity for reading, and closeness in age, but it only made me madder. The last person I wanted to resemble was Reid, except today, I gained another glaring similarity to him.
“Look at you two. Did you plan your outfits or something?” Emily playfully pointed out after I walked into the conference room.
I eyed the doctor sipping at his cup of coffee who swiveled around in his chair to see what everyone else was seeing. Just from a short glance, I spotted his navy blue button-up with white polka dots that was nearly identical to the color and print of my dress.
“Well, looks like one of us has to go home and change.” His lips grew into a mischievous smirk behind the rim of his mug.
Was that a joke? Did Spencer Reid make jokes now?
“Ha ha. Very funny.” I facetiously remarked, taking the only open seat at the table which was next to the jokester himself.
“I’m kidding. You look really nice today.” He alleged without a hint of irony. He was complimenting me now, too? It was so unfamiliar that it felt like uncharted territory, possibly even a trap.
“Why? Because I’m dressed like you?” I wasn’t going to fall for his words now, maybe the version of me who would do anything to gain his approval would have. She would’ve smiled and said ‘thank you,’ but this me was going to challenge him if that was the last thing I ever did. “Bit of a narcissist are we, Dr. Reid?”
“Mmm maybe,” He wagered, tilting his head from side to side as if to contemplate the possibility. “Or maybe I just really think you look nice.”
Without even thinking, my heart skipped a beat. I was utterly repulsed by how I let his words have any effect over me. I couldn’t believe that he’d actually managed to fluster me with mediocre flattery.
It felt like years that I had to sit next to Reid at the round table before Hotch dismissed the team for the flight.
30 minutes later, and we were on the jet. I’d taken one of the seats at the table opposite Derek and Emily, with Spencer beside me.
Little things like this I could handle, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before he started bothering me. Morgan was listening to music and Emily was turned around in her seat, facing the back to talk to Rossi. Reid was playing himself in chess, and it took all of my self-control to not be a total asshole and knock the board and its pieces over and into the aisle. Luckily, I had a good enough distraction.
Grant: can you ft tonight?
Me: we’ll see. i might have to work overtime.
For the months that I had been talking to Grant, I was deliberately ambiguous about my job because I wasn’t exactly keen on telling him that I worked for the FBI and that I might not be able to FaceTime him since I was in the process of investigating a series of homicides. That’d surely scare him away and I was never one to flaunt my government job anyway.
Grant: you look stunning today
Me: you haven’t even seen me today
Grant: don’t need to.
Grant: you’ll always be stunning to me.
“Who keeps texting you?”
I looked up from my screen to see Reid fixated on his game but still engaged in my business.
“No one,” I harshly replied, making a conscious decision to turn my phone on vibrate so he wouldn’t hear the chime of my text notifications.
With one nimble side glance, Reid eyed my screen. I nudged him away with extra force.
“Nosy much?!”
This stunned him. He wasn’t used to my coldness, he probably expected me to smile in a chagrined manner and not confront it - as I would have done - but now I was fighting back, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he liked it.
I knew he could read fast, but how he managed to look at my phone so quickly it was like he never even moved his eyes - I didn’t know. Somehow, though, he managed to capture Grant’s entire username, and I didn’t doubt that he caught my entire conversation with him, too.
“Who’s Grant?” The name rolled off his tongue like he was insulted to even be saying it.
“No one.”
He didn’t respond soon after I said this, which I misinterpreted as a little victory for me since I almost believed he was going to drop the subject, but in true Spencer Know It All Reid fashion, he just kept going.
“‘You look stunning today B-T-W. You haven’t even seen me today. Don’t need to. You’ll always be stunning to me.’ Doesn’t really sound like a ‘no one’ to me.” His recitation of my entire PRIVATE conversation with Grant embarrassed me.
Did I forget to add his eidetic memory and speed-reading ability to the list of reasons not to like him?
“Shut up!” I nudged him, this time using much more force than the last. I was becoming more and more inclined to push over his ridiculous chess game so that he’d finally take me seriously.
“Oh, really clever by the way. Vaguely insinuating that you ‘might not be able to call him because you’re working overtime’ just so you don’t have to disclose the true nature of your job.” Spencer’s sarcasm was thick.
“Are you just jealous because the only date you’ve been on was a fake one with a serial killer and not even your actual girlfriend while she was alive?” My reference to Cat and Maeve caught the attention of the entire jet.
Each member mentally rolled their eyes thinking ‘Here we go again.’ And if that wasn’t their reaction, they were certainly cringing at the fight that was ensuing.
Things had been suspiciously good between the two of us today so it was about time we argued. We were due for our daily quarrel.
“Oh, that’s right! The only girls who like you are victims in our cases.” Now this comment was referring to Lila and Austin. (I had Penelope to thank for filling me in on all of Reid’s ‘entanglements’ after I was first reassigned).
“Really? You wanna go there?” He sassed back, diverting his attention away fully from his chess game now. “Do you know how many people get ‘catfished’ when using online dating websites? Or the statistics on how many people are raped, assaulted, or murdered by said ‘catfish’?”
“I’m not stupid, Reid. He and I have been talking for months. We’ve been on calls and Facetime before, too. We’ve just never met in person. Sound familiar?”
“What Maeve and I had is not at all comparable to what you and this ‘guy’ have. And just because you’ve seen his face before doesn’t mean he’s not a serial killer or operating under an alias.”
I had to scoff. Who was he to label our relationship valid or not?
“What’s it to you anyway? We all know you’d be ecstatic if this guy turned out to be a serial killer or catfish. You’d get to rub it in my face and say ‘I told you so.’”
This touched a nerve. He hated it when I attacked his nice-guy facade.
“Is it so hard to believe I’m actually concerned for your wellbeing?”
“Yes, actually.”
“Fine. If you think I don’t care about you, then don’t come crying to me when you realize he’s not the guy you think he is.”
“Oh, trust me, I won’t! It’s not like you’d be able to protect me anyway, Pretty Boy.” I sneered, using Morgan’s nickname for him as an insult got to him, and I could see it in the way his jaw clenched and his nostrils flared.
Hotch had to interject now. “Alright, (y/l/n), Reid, that’s enough. We need to focus on what’s actually important.”
I settled back down in my seat, facing forward and avoiding eye contact with Reid.
“Have fun on your date,” He muttered under his breath. “Hope you survive it.”
Bastard.
For the rest of the case, I was on edge. Deliberately avoiding him was a much harder task than one might think. I had to wait at least ten minutes for my coffee, so I wouldn’t be at the machine when he was there, and if I had to guess, he probably took longer just to make me wait in agitation. I had to awkwardly squeeze into a new spot beside Rossi and Hotch when we were delivering the profile. I had to ask not to travel in the same SUV as him.
And this exhausting routine went on for days. In fact, I’d managed to almost go the entire case without interacting with him. That was until Hotch sent us both in the field to apprehend the unsub.
“Are you sure?” I asked with clear reluctance.
“Are you questioning me?” Hotch replied sternly.
“No, sir.”
I was already on thin ice being the new recruit, so I knew better than to question any of Hotch’s orders. And as miserable as working with Reid was, I figured he’d at least ease up on the hostility when we needed to be professional. Evidently though, even in the field, he wasn’t willing to work together with me.
It was a quick decision, not careless in the least, however. The unsub had locked himself in his warehouse and refused to leave unless we were brave enough to drag him out of there ourselves. The ultimatum he gave specified that only one of us could do it and we both agreed that I should go in, seeing as he’d underestimate my strength as a woman, and I’d have the upperhand when I inevitably apprehended him.
However, he also explicitly told us that I couldn’t come in with a gun - it had to be an even playing field.
“You are not going in without a gun,” Reid ordered.
“We don’t have time to argue about this - I have a spare on me, okay? There are three hostages in there, two of which are children.” Without giving him a chance to respond, I handed him my gun and holster.
Had I let him waste a single second more of my time, we wouldn’t have been able to save the three hostages and successfully arrest the unsub. I saw this as a victory and I was almost willing to celebrate it with him, but it wasn’t long before he let our enmity tear us apart again.
When we got back to the precinct, I went to the locker room to change, then suddenly, Hotch came in.
“I’ve been informed that you went in unarmed against a fellow agent’s orders. This matter will be discussed in my office when we get back. I should warn you, (y/n), you do not want to make this mistake again.” Hotch left me with those foreboding words, and I knew, I knew immediately that Reid was to blame for this.
If I took a look in the mirror of my locker, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I saw that my face was turning a bright shade of red. I was fuming - bursting at the seams from the anger building within me that was desperately fighting to escape. I could imagine myself as a cartoon character with steam blowing out either of my ears. I was about to go on a rampage, and no one - absolutely no one - could stop me.
The last straw was hearing him come in. This was my opportunity to unleash what was already boiling.
“What the hell, Reid? ‘(y/n) went in unarmed.’ Seriously?!” I undid the velcro on my vest so hastily out of my blind rage that the spiky side of the velcro strip nearly sliced my finger. “Are you trying to get me fired?”
“If that’s what it takes to make you realize how stupid of a choice that was, then yes, I do.” He was so calm and collected in his inflection that it angered me all the more.
“What are you even talking about? What ‘stupid choice’? You knew I had a second gun on me. And even if I didn’t carry it, I still would’ve had my vest on. I wasn’t going in unarmed or unprotected, so why would you tell Hotch that?”
“In the time it would take you to assess the danger, react, and then reach for the gun at your ankle, the unsub would’ve been able to shoot you twice - if not more. That’s going in unprepared, which is going in unarmed.”
I scoffed in disbelief that he was actually reprimanding me. “Are you kidding? This is all based on a technicality? Did your eidetic memory somehow forget about what happened with Maeve? Because my memory didn’t. I know for a fact that you went into that warehouse without a vest or a weapon. And unlike you, I had a spare and my vest. AND I actually apprehended the unsub. Did you stop Diane?”
This crossed a line and I knew it, but it was too late to take it back, and clearly, it was much too late to repair any relationship I had with him. We were far beyond the point of no return.
He was so mad that he didn’t even answer me. The only response I could gauge was from his body language, which by the looks of it, all the signs of anger were plain on his face. He clenched his jaw so hard I could hear his teeth grind. Even his nostrils flared so primitively. His eyes narrowed down at me with a glare that said, ‘I’m the predator and you’re the prey.’
“Yeah, exactly.” I spat when he stayed silent.
I turned around, starting towards the exit, but I was too furious to stop there, so I spun around and unleashed the remainder of my wrath that had been dying to come out.
“Look, I get it. I’m the new kid around here, and it sucks when someone new comes in and changes up the team dynamic, but any mistake I make, or any mistake Hotch thinks I make, could send me packing. You’ve been working in this unit for years, and even if Hotch questions your choices, he won’t reassign you. He won’t even threaten it. He’s willing to overlook your mistakes because he knows that what you have to contribute to the team is too vital to let go, but I haven’t even had my chance to show him what I have to offer. So when I do make a mistake, there is nothing for me to fall back on, nothing to redeem me, and no safety net, but you? You have years of experience on your back to break your fall. So don’t you dare act like you’re doing me a favor by reporting my ‘mistake’ to Hotch. You might be costing me my dream job, and if you think that makes us friends - think again.”
I stormed out of the locker room seeing red.
This war was far from over.
_ _ _
“You’re clenching your fists again,” Emily said under her breath. I was grateful that she said it in a hushed tone, otherwise she might’ve revealed my lingering anger to the whole jet, which wouldn’t have been good.
I immediately unclenched them, opening up my hands to reveal small, dark C shaped imprints on my palms from where my nails had dug into them.
I should’ve expected that she would’ve learned at least one of my tells by now. I did have many after all. Cheek biting, fist-clenching, leg bouncing.
“Something bothering you?” She probed quietly.
She set her book down to give her undivided attention to this conversation. That was enough to tell me that an excuse like, ‘Nothing, I’m fine,’ would not suffice. She wouldn’t be satisfied until I told her the truth, which I surely did not want to tell. So I settled for a half-truth.
“Hotch wants to talk when we get back.”
From my peripherals, I saw her knit her brows together in confusion. “Is . . . is that it?”
“Mhm.” I lied.
“But that’s not enough to warrant the fist clenching. Cheek biting - sure - you do it when you’re anxious, but not fist-clenching. You only do that when you’re angry about something.”
“Oh, so you have figured out all my tells,” I smirked.
“Pfft, I figured them all out the first week you got here, but I won’t tell you the rest, otherwise you might try and hide them from me,” She joked.
I shook my head playfully. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m just worked up about something - it’s nothing you need to worry about though.” Habitually, my eyes looked right up in his direction. I caught a glimpse of him sprawled against the couch, sleeping. He was lucky I wasn’t ranting about the little stunt he pulled earlier to Emily. He should be thankful that I was even trying to protect his reputation to her at all.
“I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, but it does help. Take it from me, someone who really only trusts myself, you shouldn’t hide what you feel.”
What you feel.
I clung onto those words.
What was I really feeling?
Was I upset that instead of receiving praise for the arrest I made, I was scolded like a child? Was I angry that Hotch believed what Reid had to say about my “problematic behavior” instead of believing in me?
Or did I feel betrayed that despite my best efforts to build a bridge, Reid was tearing it apart brick by brick? Burning it to pieces with the fire of his rage?
“Thanks.” I bleakly said to Emily. I would’ve told her the truth, but it didn’t feel necessary at that moment. If anything, it just would’ve reflected badly on me.
Truthfully, she was the closest thing I had to a friend in the BAU, and if I wanted a permanent spot here, I needed to make more of them - and fast.
“Hey, (y/n), we’re all going down to O’Keefs tonight to celebrate. You wanna join us?” Morgan asked, walking up the aisle and crouching down beside my seat to talk to me.
“Oh, I wish I could, but I have to talk with Hotch when we get back,” I explained, smiling politely.
“We can postpone the meeting till first thing Monday morning. I need to go home and be with Jack, anyway,” Hotch added.
I didn’t realize he could hear me from where he was sitting, which made me all the more nervous that he might’ve overheard the entire conversation between me and Emily earlier.
“Looks like I’m free,” I looked back at Morgan. “Does the offer still stand?”
“Anything for you, sweet cheeks.” He winked.
Judging from the lightness of the atmosphere, everyone, except maybe Hotch and Rossi, would be celebrating at O’Keefs - including Spencer.
I think I might’ve actually preferred to be scolded by Hotch tonight, instead of being silently glared at by Spencer, but it was already too late to revoke my confirmation of presence.
Because, if Hotch could hear me from where he was sitting, then Spencer could, too.
He already heard I was coming, and there was no way I was backing down.
_ _ _
In spite of the fact that I could barely hear myself think over the loud chatter and blasting music, I could still feel the rage radiating off of Spencer. You would think with how long his nap was on the jet, he wouldn’t be so cranky, but I guess he just couldn’t sleep off his disdain for me after our minor altercation.
I wondered if the team could see it, too. The way he was burning a hole into me with his fiery stare. The tension was palpable, as it has always been, but remember - I’m not the one who wanted it that way.
He started this. I was only making the feeling mutual.
“So what about you, (y/n)? Are you seeing anyone?”
I tried to hide my growing smirk behind the rim of my beer, but I knew I couldn’t hide much from them. Of course, right across from me, Spencer was glaring at me expectantly, waiting for the answer he already knew.
“Oooh, look at her - she’s blushing! Spill.” Penelope ordered, beating her palm on the table so enthusiastically it shook all the drinks on it.
“Well, there’s this one guy I’ve been seeing for a while,” The second I started speaking, I noticed Spencer rolling his eyes. I figured his apprehension was the only response of its kind that I would receive, but I was very mistaken.
“How did you two meet?” Penelope giddily asked, nearly jumping up and down in her seat.
“A dating app, actually.”
The table went completely silent, and I immediately felt my stomach drop. It was as if I’d just said something very wrong. With just a quick glance in front of me, Spencer was basking in this.
What a dick.
Emily hesitated to ask. “...Have you two met in person before?”
Now it was my turn to hesitate to speak. “No, not yet.”
I took another sip of my drink even though I wasn’t thirsty. I just wanted to hide any part of my face I could to shield myself from the five sets of eyes burning holes into me now, rather than just the one. Trying to make matters better, I spoke all too quickly, nearly sputtering on my beer. “I’m completely safe, though. Nothing sketchy’s going on, I promise.”
“Of course,” JJ agreed. “We totally trust you,” neglecting to attach the cliche, ‘It’s him we don’t trust.’ But if she had, it would’ve spoken everyone’s bubble thoughts right about now.
“Just be careful, mama.” Derek’s response felt the most sincere, and I honestly believed he was happy for me, but it didn’t change how much their judgement initially stung.
For the rest of the night, I didn’t talk. No one noticed.
Except maybe the last person I wanted to notice.
I quietly slipped away somewhere in the night when the conversation was at its highest precisely so they wouldn’t question where I was going or if I was okay. If they had asked, the truthful answer to the former would’ve been ‘just outside to get some air’ and the latter ‘no.’
The cool breeze drifted through the door like rising fog and for the briefest moment in time, I felt suspended in the space around me - I’d finally caught my breath. That feeling wouldn’t last long, though.
I’d intentionally gone outside to compose myself until I came back a person who wasn’t on the verge of tears, but apparently, trying to pull myself only resulted in my falling apart. A ball of yarn unraveling is the closest comparison I can draw to what I must’ve looked like, crying quietly on the street.
“I figured I’d find you here.”
It was the mere sound of someone’s voice that shocked me, but it was the person whose voice it was that led to the frustration that followed.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be inside talking to the team of people who also agree with you about Grant?”
He was too much of a nuisance to warrant exchanging eye contact with so I simply stared forward as I spoke and wiped the tears away that were still pooling on my lower lash line. I hoped he hadn’t actually seen me crying, but from what I could tell, he was probably standing there long before he said something. And if he was truly looking at me as deeply as it felt like right now, then he’d have noticed my bloodshot eyes, flushed cheeks, and unending sniffling.
“Is that why you disappeared back there? Because you’re upset they didn’t exactly like the idea of your relationship?” The pain in the ass really tried, he really tried to get me to look at him by facing me and making these gestures with his hands that should’ve gotten my attention, but instead, I stayed put leaning against the wall, keeping my line of sight straight ahead.
“(Y/n), they weren’t insulting you or judging you -”
“Then why did it feel like it?” For the first time since he’d joined me, I’d looked at him. I didn’t even mean to and I had every intention of denying him that privilege for the entire duration of our conversation, but as soon as I asked him my question, we locked eyes, and I saw it written all over his face.
He felt sorry for me.
Now, he could clearly make out how distraught I was from this unobstructed view of my face that was kindled by the dim, flickering yellow glow of the streetlight beside us. And he kept staring, looking into my eyes to read me just as easily and just as quickly as he read a book.
“All we want is for you to be safe,” His voice crackled momentarily, and it actually touched some part of me for how genuine it sounded. “We weren’t trying to judge you or to insult you, and I’m sorry if it felt that way, but if we want your safety, and you tell us about something that could be potentially harmful, then of course we’re going to be apprehensive about it. That’s how people that care about you should react.”
“So are you saying that I don’t care about myself because I’m engaging in something risky?” Isn’t that the most ironic statement of this year? The definition of our job was risky, and even if this wasn’t the safest relationship on the planet, it was nothing like what we put ourselves through everyday being in the field.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying -”
“So what are you saying?” I dared. He shook his head and sighed like he was about to give up, but I needed an answer. “No, please, do continue. Finish what you were gonna say. Since you apparently know everything, 187. Please go ahead - tell me what you think I should do.”
Tell me what you really came out here to say, I ordered him with my eyes.
“I think I respect you more than you respect yourself, and that’s really saying something. Because if you actually liked yourself as much as I do, then you would realize that subjecting yourself to this nonsensicality of a long-distance relationship is not only dangerous - but insulting to your worth, too. You deserve more than that, (y/n).” He couldn’t have been clearer when he murmured a low and firm, “Much more.”
The world was spinning on its axis too fast for me to process anything he said before snapping back at him. “So what exactly is it you want me to do?”
With utmost clarity in both annunciation and intention, he told me, “Break up with him.”
Not a shadow of a doubt in his words.
Then, like the phantom of the opera himself, he vanished back into the bar, but even if he had stayed, I wouldn’t have had anything to say to him. I was simply rendered speechless.
Circling back to my previous argument, I questioned once more why was it any of his business anyway? I was allowed to do as I pleased and I most certainly did not have to listen to him. And I didn’t.
But I should’ve.
_ _ _
My Monday morning meeting with Hotch wasn’t nearly as fire and brimstone as I thought it would be. It did however feel like the equivalent to an “I’m disappointed in you” parent speech. In some ways, I related to the average teen who was grounded. Except instead of my phone being taken away, it was my freedom. From now on, I could only follow executive orders that had been given to me. At least for the time being.
It was clear that, deep down, some part of Hotch knew what I’d done was the right call, but he couldn’t give me any favors. Not until they were deserved on my end.
Walking onto the jet after our meeting, however, felt more juvenile than the punishment itself. I was a kid again, re-entering my classroom after using the restroom, only to have all eyes on me as I came through the door.
As per usual, the only empty chair was next to Reid. There’d been too many instances of this happening to think it was just a coincidence. At this point, I had to assume it was by design. Whose design however? That I didn’t know.
“Hello, trouble,” He sang when I took my seat.
I could only assume that this new nickname was based on what took place in Hotch’s office - thanks to him, need I remind you - but I didn’t care to know the origin because that would require talking to him, and for several reasons, that was the last thing I wanted to do. The first of which was what happened less than three days ago. An event we both hadn’t mentioned yet, and I hoped we never would.
I took every preventative measure in the book. I changed seats with JJ. I moved to the couch. I even started reading in the little hallway between the kitchenette and bathroom of the jet to avoid sitting beside him, but against all my best efforts, he always found a way to bug me. When there’s a will, there’s a way. After exhausting any real reason he had to talk to me, he had to get creative.
“You’ve been on that same page for four minutes and twenty-seven seconds.” I heard him say when he walked up to the kitchen to reach for the pot of coffee. Almost expecting I’d ask him what he meant, he added the explanation casually. “It never takes you more than three minutes and twelve seconds to move onto the next page. So either you’re not understanding the material or you’re not actually reading.”
It was utterly hilarious of him to imply that either of those things were definitely the answer. “What if I’m just taking my time reading this page, genius? Ever thought of that?”
His eyes turned into slits as he leaned in closer to examine me. “You’re blinking rate just increased, too.”
“Stop!” I screeched childishly, pushing him away by his shoulders in an attempt to get him off my back, but he was far from off my back. No, he was right against it. More specifically, his hand was on the small of it.
Leaning in so close that his lips were practically pressing on the shell of my ear, he whispered, “Come find me when you’re ready to tell me the truth.”
He didn’t need to know his words or actions had any sort of effect on me, so I kept the most stoic facial expression on, and I didn’t say a single thing back. He turned back around to leave with the hand on my back being the last thing to go. His lingering touch caused a shiver to run down my spine while paradoxically burning my body from the friction.
I was disgusted with myself for having let him elicit any sort of reaction from me, even if he wasn’t aware of it.
“Yeah ... well, d-don’t expect that to be anytime soon,” was my poor attempt at a retort to shut him up.
“Whatever you say, trouble.”
_ _ _
Personal space can be a wonderful thing. Much less so when it’s invaded, however.
After what felt like the longest flight ever, all I wanted was to take a shower and go to bed. My wishes were granted when I was able to wash off the stress and exhaustion and slip into a blush pink satin pajama set Grant sent me that I’d been meaning to wear. The plunging neck of the tank top was lined with lace and adorned with the tiniest little bow at the center. To match the shirt, the hem of the shorts were lined with lace that trailed up the small triangular slits on the side of the shorts, where at the vertex of them was the same little bow detail. For such a pure and innocent color as baby pink, you’d think it’d be somewhat less revealing. The longer I started at myself in the mirror while wearing it, the more aware I’d become of the intentions behind why Grant had sent it.
How cute, I thought, rolling my eyes.
Gifts should always be appreciated, if for no other reason than the effort put into it, but this just felt slimy. There was obviously no valiant romantic intent behind the negligee, which spoiled the delight of receiving something out of the blue from him. What’s worse was that I wasn’t even sure how to thank him for something like this.
Me: thank you for the pajamas. they’re so cute!
Lying was easier over text message, in case you were wondering what the perks of a long distance relationship were.
Grant: good, I’m glad you like them. are you wearing them right now?
But sometimes, when you should lie, you don’t. And you regret it later on - take it from me.
Me: yeah, they’re super comfy
Grant: great! i wanna see them on! take a pic
As if to compensate for the indisputable hatred I had for this lingerie and what it stood for in our relationship, I did the only thing I could think that would make him think I really liked them. That I felt good in them.
I took pictures - not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill, Yelp review pictures, though - provocative ones.
In the same breath I went to take them, though, Spencer’s words rang through my head.
You deserve more than that. Much more.
Shaking off the thought of Spencer, I decided against what the little voice in my head that sounded too similar to his would’ve said.
To add to the illusion, I situated myself within the hotel sheets and used the front camera to capture my chest that was very much on display in this top. In the middle of rolling around the bed, trying to find the angles that wouldn’t show my face of dejection, the door opened.
Instantaneously, I clawed at the sheets until they wrapped around me like a towel. I was ashamed to admit they provided more coverage than these ‘pajamas’ did.
My shriek of shock must’ve sounded familiar to the stranger intruding on me because no sooner did I scream than they questioned, “(Y/n)? What are you doing here?”
Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
“Spencer, what the hell are you doing in here?” I grumbled, struggling to maintain a tight enough grip on the sheets that would keep them from falling and unveiling a sight I desperately did not want him to see.
“I asked you first.”
Boy, if you only knew how badly I wanted to slap that smirk right off his face. “This is my hotel room obviously. Your turn.”
Returning just the same tone, inflection, and vocals, he imitated me. “This is my hotel room obviously.” Like one of those magic tricks he’d show Henry or Jack, he miraculously flashed a room key between his index and middle finger that wasn’t there before.
“No, that’s impossible.”
“I opened the door, didn’t I?” That damn smirk was still there when he asked this. Maybe, just maybe, if it hadn’t been so condescending, I would’ve thought his sarcasm was ... attractive. Disgusting, I know.
“Well, if you actually plan on staying here, then you’re sleeping on the floor or the couch, got it?”
My question went unanswered until I turned around to follow where he’d traveled in the time that I spent pondering how this happened. Now perched at the window, sitting on the arm of the chair in a way that chairs weren’t meant to be sat on, he continued to stare silently at me.
“What? What is it?” I urged.
“What’s going on with the …” He made a side to side sweeping motion with his key card. “Bed sheets?”
Consciously, I shimmied the fabric further up my body. Seeing as there was virtually no way to escape an honest answer, I confessed. “If you must know ... I’m wearing p-pajamas.” My own body was rejecting the shameful admission causing the word to stumble out of my mouth.
He didn’t need to know any more than that to gather what kind of garments they were. He already figured it out.
“Did Grant give them to you?”
I almost rolled my eyes at the implication. “What makes you say that?”
“Because I know you,” He punctuated every word perfectly. “And I know that you wear big shirts and sweatpants to bed because you don’t see the point of spending money on clothes that are only made for you to sleep in - especially if they’re clothes that make you uncomfortable like these ones clearly do.”
Although, I greatly despised the fact that there was even a little bit of a chance that I might’ve agreed with him, I still defended Grant. “It was a thoughtful gesture.”
“Thoughtful, right,” He scoffed. “And which head was he thinking with?”
I was baffled he had the gall to say such an innuendo. “Spencer!”
How dare he? So what if Grant bought me something provocative because he was physically attracted to me? At least someone was.
Despite the ferocity plain on his face, he chose not to pursue this conversation. Visibly biting back on words he knew would hurt me, Spencer managed to sound remarkably genuine when he promised me, “I won’t look if you don’t want me to.”
I want you to, was my very first thought. Oh, God, that’s so fucked up, was my second.
He underlined his sincerity by turning fully around until he was facing the window. “But we should probably put the sheets back on the bed if you plan on sleeping on it.”
He was so patient as he waited for me to remove the cloth from my body. It almost made me feel guilty. He didn’t grumble or gripe, nor did he pressure me to do it at all. So by rights, there should’ve been no reason for me to take so long to let the barrier fall - he wasn’t looking at me. But I was just so goddamn embarrassed.
This wasn’t me, and even he knew that.
“You can turn around now,” I mumbled quietly once my safety net of a bedsheet had abandoned me. My arms were crossed over my chest and my thighs were pressed so tightly against each other as if to limit the surface area that Spencer could scrutinize.
That never came.
He did look, I could tell that much. But it wasn’t a look I’d ever seen before. It wasn’t rage or annoyance or pity. It was a look of lust.
A look that made me positively weak in the knees. A look far more sensual than even my racy garments.
“I’ll just sleep in Morgan’s room tonight, okay?” He offered once he finally broke out of his incapacitation. Grabbing the two opposite corners of the sheets that I was holding, it was a team effort as we arranged the covers where they belonged. It was probably the longest period of time we’d ever worked together without fighting or talking at all for that matter..
Not a single word was exchanged between us while Spencer gathered his things to leave for Derek’s. The room started to feel dangerously empty in the stillness.
When he slipped past me to make his way out, I caught his upper arm, successfully pulling him back around.
I could’ve been sweet, I should’ve. But that wasn’t our thing. So I settled for what came naturally to us and what would set off the least amount of red flags - I didn’t play nice. “As long as you promise not to hog the entire bed with your behemoth body, we can sleep together -” Catching the words as soon as they came out and what they could’ve implied, I began backtracking. “Sleep in the same bed. Sleep as in rest. Not sleep as in … anything else.”
Then, in one of those rare moments- he laughed. He actually laughed. Like a real, hearty, sudden laugh. “I know what you meant, (y/n).”
I’ll never forget the smile that followed the world’s greatest laugh either.
Oh, God, I’m so fucked up.
_ _ _
Spencer’s POV
Domesticated animals are smarter than we give them credit for. Studies have shown that pets can actually sense time; They know when it’s time for their owner to leave for the day and when they’ll be coming home, too.
Animals aren’t dumb - and neither was I.
Like a dog sniffing out their owner’s imminent absence in the home, I could tell (y/n) was leaving the hotel room for the night. If her current state wasn’t convincing enough, then her behavior throughout the entire day supported that theory just as well.
Whether it was her phone, the clock on the wall, or her watch, she was evidently keeping a close eye on the time. She did it so often, though, that you would think she would just use simple deductions to figure out what time it was by estimating the time it was when she last checked, but nope. She rarely let more than a minute go by without monitoring the clock.
My suspicions didn’t end there. What’s more suggestive was the anxious fidgeting. She had her tells of anxiety - everyone does - but this was a level of stress I’d never seen her exhibit before, not even in the field.
She kept cracking her knuckles, even when she’d exhausting all the popping noises she could from them. Her leg-bobbing was another big tell, too. I tend to sit on tables rather than in the chairs at said table, allowing me to feel the earthquake occurring on the precinct floor. Her leg was bouncing up and down so vigorously it was practically shaking the room.
I would’ve asked her what she was so impatient about, but I feared I already knew the answer.
Grant.
And if I never heard that name roll off her tongue again, it would be too soon.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t ask where she was going, though.
Pretending to read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, I barely let my eyes venture far off the page when I loudly asked from the window seat, “So where are you going tonight, trouble?”
The faintest sound of a chuckle erupted in the bathroom, most likely from the nickname I hadn’t let die yet.
“Nunya,” was her ever-so mature answer.
I didn’t want to give her the chance to say ‘nunya business’ like I knew she would, so I quickly interjected with a monotone, “How clever of you.” If she wanted to be a child about this, then so be it.
“Let’s see. You brought your good heels out of your suitcase, which you only wear on special occasions. And you put on a different perfume than the one you usually use, so I’m assuming it’s new. ... If I didn’t know any better, trouble, I’d say you’re going on a date.”
She peeked her head out of the bathroom doorway to say, “You’re creepy, you know that?”
Seeing the small portion of her face that was embellished with a smile would’ve been enough if only I knew what dress she was hiding in behind that wall. I had yet to see that part of her ensemble, but if I had to guess, it would break my heart.
“Just saying,” I casually lied while clearing my throat.
“Well,” I heard her begin from within the bathroom. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Grant is meeting me tonight.”
Kill me now.
“I thought Grant lived in D.C.” Not that that would change much if he was already here.
“Yes, he does, but he’s driving all the way here to meet me. Seeee,” She drew out the word. “Would a serial killer do that?”
I refrained from giving the obvious answer: Yes.
“Well, I hope you don’t plan on bringing him back here. Otherwise, that’d be terribly awkward, don’t you think?” My allusion to the possibility that Grant would come back here to find me in her bed was borne from the intentions that were a complete contradiction to the words I’d just spoken. It, in fact, wouldn’t be terribly awkward. No, it would be fun. For me at least.
I would have loved to have seen the look on his face, and the worry on hers as she tried to explain who I was and why I had any right to be in (y/n)’s gravity.
The room went silent again while I stayed on the same page of my book and, unbeknownst to her, waited for her to enter the room. How long she was taking was starting to worry me, though.
“Need any help in there?” I called out.
“Nope,” She said through a strained voice that proved she was indeed struggling with something.
“Really?” I asked once more to give her another opportunity to lower her colossal pride. “Cause it sounds like you need help.”
“Nope. I’m good.” Liar.
I knew her too well. I counted down to the exact second when she finally scrambled to ask, “Can you help me zip up my dress?”
“Yyyup.” I’d already resigned to the fact that I would have to help her, bouncing happily off the bed when she finally admitted it and letting myself lose the page I was on as I tossed the book haphazardly behind me.
I was forced to join her in the bathroom for it was already hard for her to humble herself enough to ask me for help, so she certainly couldn’t be expected to lower her pride again and walk out to a place more convenient for me.
The first thing I noticed was that it was a space clearly not made for two. It was so cramped that I ended up right against her in order to fit. The second thing I noticed was how she made no movements to distance herself. She was so close to me that I could actually see the little hairs on the back of her neck standing up from where my breath ghosted on the area. The sterile smell of hotel bathrooms had been replaced by the flowery, aromatic scent of her new perfume, and my heart broke all over again.
Using the back of my fingers, I cast a barely-there caress on her neck to stroke her hair out of the way to clear the path of the zipper. The little hairs on the back of her neck stood up again.
She liked that.
“So do I get to know where you’re going?” I reached for the zipper on the small of her back. “For safety purposes, of course.”
“Aww, you looking out for me, Dr. Reid?” She teased in a seductive tone while gathering her hair into a makeshift ponytail that for the shortest second recorded in time might’ve reminded me of a constantly recurring intrusive image.
“Always, trouble.”
The zipper fastened with absolutely no resistance all the way to the top. My eyes flashed to the mirror to catch her expression, which told me everything I needed to know.
What a pretty little liar. She didn’t actually need my help.
Comprehending that the realization dawned on me, she gave me what she knew would shut me up.
“We’re going to The Rooftop at Lamont’s.”
How effortlessly she slipped past me without a thank you or a glance in my direction served as a rude awakening.
“Well, you should take an umbrella with you. It looks like there’s gonna be a storm tonight.” This was my small way of coming to terms with the reality of the situation.
“Eh,” She waved my suggestion off with a dismissive hand. “We’ll be fine. Oh, and don’t even think about stalking me!” She warned before exiting the room.
In the blink of an eye, she was gone - my peace of mind having left with her.
_ _ _
The amount of sleep you need varies for each person and is affected by several factors. However, for most adults, 7–9 hours per night is the ideal amount. And I was slowly reducing that optimal quantity, hour by hour, until there was none left.
I would continue to sacrifice my sleep so long as I was awake for her return. If she’d asked why I was still up, I would lie. Though I wouldn’t look half so pretty as she did when she lied.
Losing rest seemed like such a small price to pay to make sure I was fully alert in the event that an emergency happened, even if I would suffer the consequences in the morning. But hey - that’s what caffeine is for, isn’t it? To re-energize oneself after staying up to guarantee one’s enemy’s safety.
Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly why Kaldi invented coffee in 750 A.D.
Besides the thunderstorm, my mind also made great company for situations like these. Granted, the visions it would project kept me up for a reason - they were all so awful.
There was simply no projected reality where things would turn out alright.
If she had the time of her life on her date, she would come back to throw it in my face that I’d been wrong, and her admiration for Grant would have deepened.
Or if he stood her up, she’d be devastated, but instead of letting me console her, she’d push me away as easily as she always did.
In a more neutral instance, perhaps she would admit it wasn’t as great meeting him as she thought it would be and the relationship would fade out for innocent reasons. Even if that seemed like the most favorable circumstance, she would eventually grow to resent me for planting the seed of doubt in her head in the first place.
But nothing- nothing I could have imagined would be as treacherous as what actually happened.
At exactly 1:09 a.m, my phone started to ring. I can’t explain to you what it was, but I just knew - it was her calling, and it wasn’t even her number.
“(Y/n)? Is everything okay?”
If she said something beforehand, I couldn’t hear her because the storm was too loud and her voice was too quiet. “Did I wake you up?”
I reassured her with a tone I didn’t even recognize. “No, no. I was awake. Why? What’s up?” The line went quiet again, forcing me to prompt her to speak in order to find out if she was still there on the call. “(Y/n)?”
“Spencer ...” She choked out a hoarse sob. “I need you. I need you to come get me, please.”
My eyes clenched shut at the dreadful sound of her sorrow, and I jolted into action. After scrambling to gather the keys to her car that she’d left behind, I fled the room faster than ever before.
“I’m on my way, (y/n). Stay right there. You’re at The Rooftop at Lamont’s right?”
The poor thing took the longest pause in history, either from shame or disorientation. “He threw me in the back of his car and drove me all the way to D.C. I …” Her breath caught on her dry throat again. “I, um, I managed to escape and now I’ve barricaded myself in a payphone booth. I haven’t called the police yet. You were the first person I thought to call. I just, I just needed to hear your voice.”
My knuckles turned an unfamiliar shade of white when I gripped the steering wheel, picturing her caged up in a rectangular box, dialing my number instead of 911 just so she could hear my voice.
“Everything is gonna be okay. I promise you. My ETA is 1:28. That’s in 19 minutes. Are you okay being there for that long or do you want to find somewhere safer?”
I could no longer distinguish the difference between talking to her right now and talking to a victim in distress. I was speaking with the same tone and inflection but feeling a sharp pain in my chest that wasn’t there before.
“I can stay here. Just ... don’t hang up, okay?” The fact that the possibility of me abandoning her over the phone even crossed her mind was more than enough to get me to drive well over the speed limit.
The list of traffic infractions only grew from there because honestly? Screw my safety or anyone else’s. Her’s was the only one that mattered. She was the priority.
She was my priority.
Throughout the entire call, I kept repeating, “You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.” Frankly, it was something we both needed to hear.
It was both the fastest and slowest 19 minutes of my life. Time no longer felt real when I finally found the payphone booth that boxed in my troublesome girl. No sooner did I drive up to the sidewalk than I ran out of the car to sprint the short distance to free her from her coop.
“(Y/n)!” I shouted, swinging the door open and throwing caution to the wind in the process. Immediately, she dropped the phone, not even bothering to replace it onto its receiver.
The pouring rain had stripped her of her dignity. Mascara ran down her face in pigmented streams of black. Her curled hair was dampened into strings. But worse of all, it hadn’t washed away the darkening bruises on her skin.
“Oh my god, Spencer!” She cried as she ran into my open arms.
Her body collided with mine in such a gentle manner that I had to wonder how that was possible at all or if it was a figment of my imagination. Was our collision actually that gentle or did it seem that way because of how good it felt to have her arms and legs latch around my entire torso, crossing and connecting somewhere in between?
With one arm under her thighs to hold her up, I pulled her impossibly closer to me by cradling the back of her head with the other hand.
Her small hands found their way into my hair, a new sensation I tried not to indulge in so as not to let my attention stray away from the little life I was holding in my arms.
She was so cold.
Shivering from my warm embrace, her teeth chattered as she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Spencer. You were right I should’ve listened -”
“Shh, it’s okay, (y/n),” I said with the hopes that I could make the pounding heart that was thumping against my shoulder settle down until it reached her standard heart rate of 67 beats per minute.
After a second of just holding her wordlessly, she spoke again.
“I don’t wanna fight.” She surrendered so easily to me that I could hardly believe this was her at all.
“I don’t wanna fight with you either.”
That was entirely true. Fighting with her was the last thing on my mind.
The first was getting her into my car.
It was easier that I imagined it would be, but then again, it’s easy to do things when you’re motivated in this way.
Before I loosened my hold on her to shut the passenger door, she squeezed me a little tighter, as if to be absolutely certain this was real and not some cruel dream.
“Thank you,” She hummed into the crook of my neck. From where her shoulder was digging into my throat, I couldn’t exactly respond verbally, so I settled for rubbing my hand up and down her back comfortingly.
“Let’s take you home,” I basically said to myself seeing as it was too quiet to be discernible.
“No,” She shook her head rapidly. “Take me to your apartment.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to go back to the hotel right now. I need to be somewhere I feel safe.”
My apartment is closer than the hotel, I reasoned, pretending it was the logic of it that made my heart swell and not the statement I would fixate on for the entire duration of the ride there.
I need to be somewhere I feel safe.
And that’s wherever I’m with you.
_ _ _
Reader’s POV
Porcelain wall tiles gleamed back at me, mocking my wretched misery. They were much prettier than me, but then again, anything else would be prettier than me right about now.
I certainly wasn’t the belle of the ball in my bare naked state. The fact that I was sitting in a pool of my own washed off dried blood didn’t help either.
I would’ve looked away from the bright white walls, but where else were I to look? Into the pair of eyes that I was deliberately avoiding? The ones that were staring a hole through me right now? No. I couldn’t bear to meet those eyes. So I kept looking forward at the mean walls - those mean, mocking walls.
“Is the water warm enough?” He asked, dipping a finger into the bathwater to test it himself.
I watched as his hand snuck into the tub and swirled around some water, causing soap bubbles to revitalize.
For a reason I didn’t know nor could remember at this given moment, Spencer drove me to his apartment. That memory of why I was here was fuzzy, but the rest following my arrival was more vivid. Perhaps because it was all unfolding right now.
“I think I should go,” I murmured. The bathwater had gone cold, and the silence was too deafening. If I didn’t leave now, then I would be trapped forever.
I leaned forward with my knees still pressed to my chest to protect my modesty while I tugged on the silver drain plug of the tub to release the suction.
“You can’t go home. You’ll be alone again, and who will be there to help you that time?”
“I don’t need anybody’s help.” I responded curtly.
“Then why did you call me tonight?”
“Why did you answer?”
He was stunned by how I didn’t miss a beat with my question, stunned enough to purse his lips in contempt. “Should I have declined your call then? Said ‘no’ instead and let you fend for yourself? You know what - my bad, (y/n). I sincerely apologize that I care about you.”
I scoffed at his factiousness. “No, what you should’ve done is whatever the hell you wanted to do. But clearly, since you said ‘yes’ and came to my rescue like I’m some victim in a case - you wanted to be there. I could chalk that up to you having a hero complex, but I think it’s time for you to admit you just wanted to see me at my worst so you could throw it in my face like you’re doing right now.”
He clenched his jaw in fury, muttering under his breath, “I should’ve left you in that booth.”
This crossed a line, but I was just as ready to cross it, too.
“But I bet you liked saving me. Seeing me as a damsel in distress that you could white knight. You like that, Spence? Does my weakness settle your deep rooted fear of inadequacy in strength?”
Shouldn’t have done that.
For a second there, I was sincerely scared of the response I might’ve just elicited, so I shot up from the tub and grabbed the towel on the rack, quickly wrapping myself in it and avoiding Spencer’s gaze the entire way out of the bathroom.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Judging from the loudness of his voice, he was right on my heels, following me close behind.
“You’re smart. Figure it out.”
“God, why do you have to be such a pain in the ass? I don’t want to leave you like this.” It never failed to amaze me how he could both show disdain and concern for me in the matter of a sentence.
“Well, you’re not leaving me like this - I’m leaving you like this.” My clever remark angered him more.
Seemingly from out of nowhere, Spencer called out from the end of his hallway, “What are you so scared of?”
Reaching the end of my rapidly fraying rope, I spun around to throw my arms out to my side in just the same defensive manner as he did. “Nothing! Maybe I just don’t wanna be stuck in the apartment of the man who hates me! Can you blame me?”
He ran a hasty hand through his hair, pulling at the strands out of pure irritation. “Why do you keep saying I hate you? How can any of what I’ve done for you tonight suggest that?”
He’d chosen his words carefully and for that, he was smart. His inclusivity of the word ‘tonight’ meant I could only reference his actions from the past few hours, which wouldn’t help my case, as opposed to the months and months that he’d given me the cold shoulder, which would have helped my case. But again, he was smart - he had me in a deadlock. I couldn’t accept defeat, but what could I possibly argue against his point?
My body literally shook from the power of the deep groan that tore through my chest. “God, what do you want from me, Spencer?” I wanted nothing more than to be far, far away from him, but my body was resisting all those urges. Lunging forward, I pointed the sternest index finger at him, staring the most unforgiving glare into his soul. “Tell me - tell me what you want! Because when I was nice to you, you-you treated me like shit. And then when I stopped being nice to you, you still treated me like shit. So what -” I had to laugh to alleviate the sheer rage I was feeling. “What the fuck do you want from me? Because it’s like no matter what I do, it’s just not good enough for you!”
His eyebrows had furrowed and his eyes softened. He didn’t look angry whatsoever. No, he looked hurt.
“Not good enough for me?” He leaned down to my level to look right into my eyes. “You are everything … everything to me.”
With one last breath, I cried out in anguish, “Then why? Why do you hate me so much?”
He gulped back the lump in his throat - the last barrier that kept him from telling the truth.
“I ... I never hated you. I just need to be in control of my thoughts and feelings at all times, otherwise, I feel-I feel like I’m going crazy. Like I’m on the verge of a psychotic break that I’m genetically predisposed to have. But when you came around - I lost all my control. You were inhabiting my dreams, you were stealing my sleep, occupying more and more space in my brain until there was no more room left to take. God, I think about you all the time, and I literally cannot physically stop it. I have no control anymore,” and somehow him saying that sounded something like an ‘I love you.’
“The only thing I could control was how I treated you. I thought being awful to you would get you to despise me enough to make me despise you, too, and while it was easier to be angry at you, it was so much worse having you hate me.”
“I never hated you, Spencer.” Never.
“You should have,” He rasped. “I know I don’t deserve you, but I wish to spend every day proving that I want you. Oh, I want you so bad,” He sharply inhaled through gritted teeth, and I unconsciously laughed in return. His pain wasn’t funny in the least. What was amusing was knowing that he had the same excruciating longing for me that I had for him.
“I don’t want control anymore if it means I can’t have you.”
He leaned in so carefully that I almost didn't register the movement at all. Our hearts were pounding to the same synchronized beat. We were the shore and the tide one in the same. Our breaths would draw in and out, in and out, as he held my face so gently. We were still the shore and the tide, but more than anything we were drowning in the ocean of ourselves. The rising waters of his admiration threatened to flood every empty nook and cranny of the room until it swallowed me whole. All I could feel was him, everywhere, filling absolutely everything.
“Wow ... I finally got you speechless,” The cocky bastard hummed happily, letting his words vibrate on the smallest part of my lip.
“Oh, shut up,” I declared through a smirk I needed to fight off before finally closing that nearly imperceptible gap between us.
All the forces in the world couldn’t tear us apart after we connected. They were no match for the force Spencer’s hands had as they pulled me impossibly closer. The pressure might’ve even been unbearable had it not been for the velvety pair of lips giving me back all the oxygen it stole from my lungs just seconds ago. They were so soft, like freshly washed sheets, like biting into cotton candy, like floating for the first time, feeling utterly weightless in water. It’s sweet, it’s so effortlessly sweet.
Not nearly as sweet as the words that followed our parting.
“Not enough for me?” He repeated, recalling my previous claim. “You’ve had me since the day you walked in, trouble.”
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
fingers crossed this fic doesn’t flop!
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#spencer reid#Spencer Reid fic#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid kiss#fighting fire with fire#juniorgman187#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction
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