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#pride and prejudice masterlist
bearwriting · 10 months
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Pride and Prejudice
Fitzwilliam Darcy
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My Time is Yours: Fitzwilliam Darcy was never really one for balls (or social gatherings in general), but after some prodding from Mr. Bingley, he realizes they may be good for some things. 
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calcifiedunderland · 7 months
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Pride and Prejudice: A TWSTed AU Masterlist
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Start here! The Introduction
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Now, take their hand, Prefect:
The Rose Red Tyrant: Riddle Rosehearts
The Usurper of the Wilds: Leona Kingscholar
The Merchant from the Depths: Azul Ashengrotto
The Schemer of the Scalding Sands: Jamil Viper
The Beautiful Tyrant: Vil Schoenheit
The Keeper of the Underworld: Idia Shroud
The Ruler of the Abyss: Malleus Draconia
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
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stedefxckingbonnet · 6 months
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—MASTERLIST
Congratulations, dear traveler, you've made it!
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You've found my list of all of my writing thus far! You can come back to this at anytime, and I will update it frequently as I continue to write. Requests are currently OPEN! Wide open ♡
Our Flag Means Death
Izzy Hands
Past Lives
Eternity
Eternity part 2
Moonlight Meetings
My Favorite
Star-Crossed
My Gem
What I See
The Holdovers
Angus Tully (coming soon!)
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downton-musings · 11 months
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Masterlist
Will write any genre - smut, angst (my personal fav), and fluff.. or whatever else you can come up with.
~ My style is character x female reader only
~ Requests are closed
Downton Abbey
- Thomas Barrow
- Tom Branson
- Matthew Crawley
Emma
- Mr. (George) Knightley
Pride and Prejudice
- Mr. (Fitzwilliam) Darcy
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wren-of-the-woods · 1 year
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Wren's Other Fandoms
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✴ Silmarillion
A Hopeless Dawn | 1.4k | T Maedhros mourns Fingon’s death after the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.
Sirion | 1.8k | T Maglor meets Elrond and Elros after the Third Kinslaying.
The Wolf | 1.1k | T Celegorm learns how to transform into a wolf. This changes remarkably few things.
Gifts of the Heart | 10.7k | T Maitimo and Findekáno fall in love through gifts, confronting old family resentments as they go.
Imladris | 0.1k | G A poem for Rivendell.
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🌹Pride & Prejudice
Songbirds | 0.1k | G Lizzy enjoys a quiet moment with her husband.
Once Upon A Text | 1.7k | G Lizzy has been talking with her fellow literature nerd, Goodnight_Sweet_Prince, for several months now. Little does she know that her online friend and her irritating neighbour are one and the same.
I'm Dreaming of a Quiet Christmas | 2.1k | G William Darcy and Lizzy Bennet go on their first date. They would appreciate it if everyone would stop interrupting them.
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🌟 Star Wars
The Adventure of the New Driver | 2.1k | G Rey, Poe, Finn, and Rose have been volunteering at their local food bank for years – but everything might be about to change when an irritating stranger is hired to drive the produce truck.
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💥 Duck, You Sucker!
Nought But Fumble Falls And Guns And Tumbleweeds (Love Run) | 1.1k | T Juan never cared about heroes and villains. It makes his life rather ironic.
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🕰 Goncharov
Hold the Bar at Hurley's | 1.3k | G In which the bartender has many thoughts about the events of the film, and even more thoughts about what happens afterwards.
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entitled-fangirl · 3 months
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I love hearing about your day.
Felix Catton x reader
SMUT
Summary: Felix and the reader enjoy some time together in the bath as she tells him about her day. Or... tries to.
Words: 1,064
Warnings: Smut, fingering, teasing, overstimulating, cursing
Masterlist
18+ PLEASE
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.........................................................................
Felix lay in the bath, his body entirely relaxed. His head laid back, resting on the rim of the tub. It had been a long day.
His girlfriend opened the door with a loud creak. She rested against the doorframe, simply watching him with an admiral look in her eye. How could she not? Felix was beautiful. His body, his eyes, his soul- all the definition of beautiful.
His head turned to look at her, a smirk pulling at his lips lazily. “Care to join me, angel?”
It was her turn to smile now. What a ridiculous question. He could ask anything of her and without question she’d do it. 
She took small steps towards the tub, kneeling in front of it. “D’You think it’s big enough for both of us?”
He moved his head back against the tub, looking at the ceiling. “One way to find out.”
She let out a small laugh before she stood, slowly stripping herself of her clothes. He turned his head, watching with a soft gaze. How he adored her, too.
He held out a hand, which she graciously took, helping her into the bath. He maneuvered her body to where her back rested against his strong chest.
A deep sigh escaped her lips at the feeling of the warm water and his warm embrace.
He smiled, moving his head down to kiss her shoulder gently. His lips trailed up her neck. Her whole body shuddered as he placed a kiss behind her ear.
She felt his smile against her neck as he began to speak, “Tell me about your day, angel.”
She shifted. “Well, you were there for most of it.”
He kissed her shoulder again, his left hand moving to hold the side of her thigh. “Don’t care. I wanna know.”
She nods, focusing on her words, “I, I uh… woke up with you. Breakfast. Then I went back to our room to change. Terribly hard to pick which bikini to wear…”
He hums softly against her neck to show he’s listening. His right hand trailing down from her bicep to her hip.
She took this as a cue to keep going, “I picked the red one. It’s my favorite. I like the way the bottoms fit. And then met back with you at the pond, of course…”
His hand continued trailing down to her upper thigh, her breathing starting to quicken on instinct.
“…I worried so much about what I was to wear and I didn’t even swim. But I still think I-,” her voice trailed off in a quick breath in as Felix’s hand now rested over her core.
His lips neared her ear in a whisper, “Keep going.”
She took a deep breath, her jaw clenched. “After that, I spend my time in the library reading…”
He kissed her ear, his middle finger gently touching her slit. “What did you read? Tell me.”
“I was… I was reading.. I read…” her train of thought was gone.
He continued to tease her. “What, angel? Something wrong? I just want to hear about your day.”
She mouth closed as she let out a hum. “I was reading ’Pride and Prejudice.’”
He took that as an answer. “Never read it. Tell me.”
She knew he didn’t care about the plot. He just wanted to see her fall apart. But she didn’t care either. Anything to get him to touch her. “It’s, uh, a love story…”
“Mm-hmm. And?” His middle finger moved up and down at a constant pace, waiting for the moment to strike.
God, he was insufferable with his teasing. “The woman is poor and the man is… rich, but he has a temper about… about him… he’s… quite…quite brooding…”
He lets a soft breath out. “And they fall in love?”
Her right hand gently grips his wrist as he continues to toy with her. “Yes, they-, “ her words gone as a moan left her mouth, his finger now inside her. 
He chuckles softly at her reaction, “Don’t stop, angel. I want to hear what happens.”
His finger starts to pump in and out of her as her grip on his wrist becomes iron. Her other hand reaches up to grip the side of the bathtub.
“There’s a… a ball they attend.. and…and… God, Felix…,” she whines, her head falling back to rest on his shoulder.
“Fuck, angel,” he teased, “You don’t even know what it’s about?”
“I do. I do. I just…” 
“Just what?”
“I can’t… I can’t breath when.. when I’m around you…”
His movements stop. The only sound heard in the bathroom is her soft pants as she tries to catch her breath again. “Fuck, Felix,” she pants under her breath. She can practically feel the smile he has on his face. 
“I love hearing about your day.”
And he pushes in two fingers.
She falls apart, a whine coming from her throat at the feeling. Her body rests against his chest for support. They both know she wouldn’t be able to support herself even if she tried at this point.
He continues it for her, his voice in her ear, as he moves his fingers back and forth into her. “They go to a ball. They dance together. She realizes he’s not a bad guy, and he realizes there’s nothing wrong with her. Does that sound right, angel?”
She can’t speak. Her whines and moans are all he gets from her as his digits move at a constant speed. He chuckles, “Need me to stop, love?”
Her grip tightens on his wrist. “Please… Please, Felix.. don’t… ung… don’t stop…,” she moans, her voice echoing off the bathroom walls. 
“Alright. Anything for you.” His thumb reaches up to rub small circles on her clit.
She can’t handle it anymore. Tears spring to her eyes, her grip on him turning her knuckles white. Her back arches. “I can’t…” 
She’s overstimulated, and Felix grins at it. He places kisses on her neck and shoulders again gently, “Let go then, angel. I’ve got you. Just let go.”
Her orgasm comes with a small cry from her, his thumb continues to move on her clit to prolong the feeling. She pants hard, her chest expanding with every breath. After a few moments, her body falls limp against his again, exhausted. 
He chuckles, kissing the top of her head, “I love hearing about your day.”
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honnelander · 7 months
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tart
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HERE WE GO EVERYONE. the long awaited jealous!Sanji fic!! AKA a prequel to the main go fish! storyline!! this fic takes place before the main events in go fish! but after they met at the Baratie. and don't worry, part 3 for the main series will be on the way. enjoy!! request: i was wondering if you’d consider making a lil imagine/blurb about sanji being jealous of someone flirting with the reader? like imagine zoro and the reader just talking and then zoro suddenly leans closer and whispers to her “it seems we’ve got an audience” or smth like that
WARNINGS: none
word count: 3.7k
pairing: jealous opla!sanji x fem!reader
summary: Sanji watches Zoro and reader talk and gets jealous. Nami tries to calm him down but fails.
go fish! series: part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 masterlist
taglist: @mischiefmanaged71 @smolracoon25 @smol-book-nerd @shuujin @amanda08319 @nimtano @your-platonic-gay-lover @lovelymrvl @whiskeypowder @jovialcat123 @nimtano @xtigerlily @shadowwolf1864 @quixscentsposts @guidingstarsstuff @ateliefloresdaprimavera
“Reading that garbage again?” a voice called out. 
At hearing the question, you glanced up from your well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice, your favorite book, only to see a calm Zoro casually stroll over to you with a hint of amusement on his face.  
You playfully rolled your eyes. “Don’t knock it till you try it, oh great sword master,” you playfully jabbed as you shook out the book to him as he leaned his back against the ship’s front railing, resting his elbows on top of it. “The almighty Zoro isn’t allergic to reading, is he?” 
Zoro snorted, glancing down at your cross-legged position on top of a crate before returning his sights to the Going Merry’s deck and the open ocean. “Yeah, I am allergic,” he agreed. “Allergic to reading that monstrosity you call a book.” 
“Ooo, ‘monstrosity’. That’s a mighty big word for a non-reader like yourself, Zoro. Good job,” you teased as you marked your page before closing the book and joining your friend in looking across the deck and out towards the ocean. 
The green-haired swordsman crossed his arms. “I read.” 
“Mmhm,” you hummed, not convinced. “Sure you do.” 
“I do,” he defended in a gruff voice. 
“Oh yeah? Here, I’ll make it easy for you: tell me about one book you’ve read.” 
Zoro scoffed. “I can tell you about way more than one.” 
You couldn’t help the surprised noise that came out of you. “Oh, yeah? ’More than one’?” you asked with a raised brow and glanced up at your fellow straw hat, trying to wipe off the grin on your face.  
You were certainly surprised that Zoro has read more than one book in his lifetime, but you weren’t surprised that he took your earlier question as a challenge. Classic Zoro, you thought in amusement. The guy could never pass up a challenge, no matter what it was about. 
So, you repositioned yourself on your crate, making yourself comfortable for the discussion ahead. “Alright, come on,” you said and sat up straighter, urging Zoro on, “let’s hear it. Tell me all about them.” 
From the back of the ship, on the upper deck above the kitchen, a certain chef took a long drag on his cigarette as he watched you and his least favorite swordsman be engrossed in conversation. Sanji removed the butt of his cigarette from his mouth with his thumb and index finger, keeping the smoke in his lungs for as long as he could, before slowly exhaling the smoke from his nostrils, his eyes never leaving the two of you. 
“Daaamn, Sanji,” Usopp drawled as he messed with the sails on the ship’s mast nearby, glancing at the chef for a second before returning to his knots. “You look like a smoking dragon. All ferocious and mean. And....extra smokey.” 
Sanji’s gaze didn’t budge, Usopp’s words not fazing the cook in the slightest. “Oh yeah? And what of it knot-boy?” he asked with a slight edge to his words, taking another drag on his cigarette and exhaling through his lips. 
At Sanji’s snarky question, Usopp recoiled and looked back at Sanji more closely with a confused expression. It was rare for Sanji to lose his cool or be in a bad mood for no reason, unless he was going back and forth in an argument with Zoro but even then, the blonde chef usually took those in stride with a smile, much to Zoro’s annoyance, so this was new. 
“Aren’t those things supossed to calm you down?” Usopp asked as he nodded to the cigarette in the cook’s hand. 
“I am calm,” Sanji rebuked a little too quickly to be true.  
Usopp then noticed how intent Sanji’s stare was towards something at the front of the ship and raised an eyebrow. Whatever he was staring at must be pissing him off because the chef’s gaze looked absolutely lethal. What the hell could be making him so mad? Usopp followed Sanji’s gaze, looked towards the front of the ship, and saw....y/n and Zoro talking? 
To Usopp, it looked like they were just having a normal conversation, but when he saw y/n laugh at something Zoro said, hitting his arm with a grin and Zoro having a slight smile, he heard Sanji scoff loudly in disgust and mutter something under his breath. 
And in that moment, it dawned on Usopp what was up, and it was hard for him to contain his shit eating grin: Sanji was jealous. Sanji was jealous of y/n and Zoro. To Usopp, it looked like a completely normal conversation between friends since he knew of y/n’s affections for the blonde cook. But to Sanji? It probably seemed like a complete flirt fest, and he was jealous. 
Up until this point Usopp had thought y/n’s crush was only one sided. Sure, he’s had his suspicions ever since Sanji seemed to stare at y/n more often than not, but Usopp was still just a guy at the end of the day, so he never considered if Sanji might actually have feelings for y/n too.  
But now? Oh boy- Usopp was all caught up to speed and he couldn’t wait to meddle in their budding relationship and tease the heck out of them both for it (when the time was right, of course).  
Usopp looked back over at Sanji and wiped off his grin as best he could. “You say somethin’ Sanji?” he asked innocently, knowing damn well the chef said absolutely nothing. “I thought I heard you mutter something.” 
Sanji flicked the ashes off his cigarette. “No.” 
“Oh. Must just be the wind then...” 
Suddenly, y/n’s laughter could be heard from the ship’s front and Sanji nearly snarled in disgust and shook his head. “What the-” Sanji started but let out an exasperated sigh. “He’s not even funny,” Sanji complained before taking another hit on his cigarette. 
Usopp couldn’t help himself, he had to poke the bear. “Who, Zoro? I think he’s funny.” 
The blonde chef let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, funny looking.” 
He also had to twist the knife. “Well, y/n seems to think he’s funny.”  
Sanji chuckled to himself and stayed quiet for a moment, contemplating Usopp’s words. “You know what? It doesn’t matter,” he muttered and took one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out and immediately lighting up a fresh one. 
Unbeknown to the cook and slingshot fighter, standing underneath them and near the tangerine trees was the Going Merry’s orange-haired navigator, who had heard their whole conversation. 
------------- ----- 
“Zoro!” You laughed loudly and hit your crewmate on his bicep. “Reading books on how to dismember your opponents doesn’t count as real reading!” 
A ghost of a smile appeared on Zoro’s face as he raised an eyebrow at you. “Says you. Can you tell me fifty different ways on how to cut up a body? No? I didn’t think so.” 
“Fair enough,” you relented good naturedly with a small laugh as you shook your head. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.” 
A comfortable silence fell over you both as you let out a small sigh, watching the waves crash. 
After a few quiet beats, however, you felt Zoro lean into your personal space as he lowly murmured, “Don’t look now, but it seems like we have an audience.” 
You blinked in confusion as your eyebrows pulled together. “What? An audience? Where?” Completely disregarding Zoro’s instructions, you immediately started looking around the ship. “Watching what?” 
“Us,” Zoro said simply and returned to his full height. 
You shook your head in disbelief. “What? Us? Now who would be watching-” you started to say but the rest of your sentence died in your throat when you saw piercing blue eyes staring right you both. “...us?” you finished slowly.  
Sanji? Sanji was your audience? But- why? What? You were so confused. Even from this far away, you could tell something was off with him. His posture was stiff and the usual smile that adorned his features whenever he saw you was nowhere to be seen.  
“When did he get here? I didn’t know he was on deck...” you trailed off, about to move to hop off the crate and make your way over to Sanji to see what the matter with him was when something stopped you.  
Before you could hop off the crate, you saw Sanji put out his cigarette and make his way off the deck and head down into the kitchen, not sparing you another glance. As you made your way across the deck, about to follow him into the kitchen, Usopp quickly called out to you from up on the ship’s mast, asking for your help with knot tying since ‘yours were so much better than his’. You agreed with a small sigh, not wanting Usopp to struggle by himself, so you made your way to the mast and started climbing, but not before sparing the entryway to the kitchen one last glance. 
Meanwhile in the kitchen, Sanji flittered around, grabbing random ingredients he saw at first glance. Mushrooms? Grabbed. A block of cheese? Sure. Corn? Ok. Tomatoes? Sure, whatever. 
As he looked down at the growing pile of ingredients on the counter, he stopped for a second to examine the pile, putting his hands in his pockets. What the hell was he supposed to make out of this? He didn’t know. He couldn’t think straight, and it was bothering the absolute hell out of him. The kitchen had always been his sanctuary, a place where he could always rely on to decompress and escape from his thoughts as he got swept away in the act of cooking that came so naturally to him. Usually. 
But today? His natural instincts weren’t there. He felt his chef’s mind drawing up a blank on how to mix all of these items together and the longer he stood there, the more ticked off he became. On a normal day, he’d have thought up of 15 different dishes he could make and already have been busy at work making one of those ideas come to life. But now? There was nothing. No ideas swirling around in his head, nothing.  
He could feel his face twist up in irritation the longer he was standing there until finally, he let out a short, brusque sigh, muttering, “Now what the fuck am I supposed to do with all this?” 
“You’re the chef, aren’t you supposed to figure that out or something?” 
The blonde chef glanced up from the pile and saw Nami casually strolling in from the deck and up to the counter opposite of him, hands clasped behind her back, with a curious eyebrow raised.  
Instantly, to cover up his sour mood, the cook plastered on a fake smile. “Well, it seems my mind is a little blank at the moment, Darling. Why don’t you come over here and help me come up with an idea or two?” he offered with a wink, taking his hands out to lean against the counter. 
But Nami saw right through him. “I’m good, thanks,” she declined bluntly. Nami wasn’t sure when she had become the Going Merry’s pseudo-therapist, especially since this crew hadn't been together for more than 3 months at this point, but someone had to be, and she figured the only way to get Sanji to talk right now would be if he was doing something he loved: cooking. “Actually,” she started offhandedly, “I have a request for you.” 
Now that immediately got the cook’s attention. “Oh?” he asked with a raised brow, straightening up as he dropped the fake flirty persona. 
“Yeah,” she said aloud, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself that she actually had a request for the cook. From behind her back, she pulled out a couple of tangerines. With a slight smile and raised brow, she said matter-of-factly, “If I remember correctly, I believe I was told I could ask for a tangerine tart anytime I’d like?” 
A genuine smile came across Sanji’s face at that, his eyes crinkling at the corners, as he laughed with a nod. “The Madam is correct.” He took the fruits from Nami’s hands and placed them on the counter, pushing away his bizarre pile of ingredients to make room. “One tangerine tart coming right up,” he said and started bustling around the kitchen with purpose this time, pulling out the necessary ingredients, a far cry from his movements a couple of minutes ago. 
Seeing Sanji occupied, Nami took a seat at the table, sitting where she had left her charting journal and reading glasses from breakfast that morning. She opened her journal back up and put her glasses on, flipping through the pages and resuming her sketch of her latest map.  
Both of them worked in silence for a few minutes, both engrossed in their respective activities until Nami broke it. Before speaking, she snuck a glance at the chef, making sure he was preoccupied before she started prodding and sure enough, he was. Perfect. 
“You know, I never told anyone this before,” Nami started, laying the groundwork for Sanji to open up, creating a tit for tat sort of thing, “but I actually love tangerine tarts.” 
Sanji huffed slightly with a slight smile, not looking up from his work. “Oh yeah? Well, be prepared to fall in love with them all over again.” He started pouring heavy cream into a separate bowl, adding sugar before whisking it all together. “Even Zeff used to say I made a mean tangerine tart.” 
Nami hummed. “Maybe you can make Zoro fall in love with them too,” she said casually, sneaking a quick look at Sanji, only to see him press his lips together in a firm line and start to whisk the cream harder at the mention of the swordsman. “Or y/n,” she added quickly. “I don’t think she’s ever had one either.” 
At the mention of you, Sanji’s face and motions relaxed slightly. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I...think you’re right about that.” 
The orange-haired girl rotated her journal ninety degrees. She decided to prod a little harder. “I think I saw them talking earlier.” 
Sanji simply hummed in agreement, cracking eggs into a bowl, staying silent. With the third egg, however, he cracked it a little too hard on the counter, causing the raw egg contents to splatter everywhere and onto his black blazer.  
“Ah- fucking hell,” he muttered in disgust, throwing the broken eggshell into the trash before cleaning his hands off in the sink. 
Nami looked up from her work and quirked an eyebrow at her crewmate. “You good?” 
The blonde cook shook his head once with a sardonic smile. “Never better,” he quipped. 
Ok, she couldn’t do this dance anymore. Nami closed her journal and took off her glasses, looking straight at him. “Alright, you want to tell me what the hell is going on? You’re acting weird, even for you.” Sanji opened his mouth to protest but Nami spoke before he could. “And don’t lie to me.” 
Mouth still open, Sanji exhaled slowly and deflated. “I- I’m fine.” 
She rolled her eyes. “Sanji-” 
Upon hearing his name, Sanji blinked and raised his eyebrows in surprise. Nami rarely called him by his name.  
“Cut the bullshit,” she continued. “I heard your conversation with Usopp and you certainly didn’t sound ‘fine’.” 
Sanji was caught red-handed. With what exactly? He didn’t really know but he did know he was caught in a lie because he definitely did not feel fine. He shrugged his shoulders, at a loss for words. “I...” he sighed and took off his ruined blazer, draping it over the back of an empty chair, rolling up his sleeves as he avoided Nami’s expectant stare. He grabbed a dirty rag and started cleaning the egg off the counter. “I don’t know...” 
“Sanji, you can barely crack an egg.” 
That brought out a short bark of laughter from the chef. “Yeah,” he relented. “Obviously.” 
“Is this because of your jealously over y/n and Zoro?” 
“My- my what? My jealously?” he sputtered and scoffed, still not looking Nami in the eye. “I, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why on earth would I be jealous over that stick in the mud?” 
“Oh, I don’t know,” Nami played along, tapping her temple, pretending she was deep in thought. “Maybe because you saw and heard them laughing from all the way across the ship?” she pointed out. When Sanji tried to wave off her accusations with an unconvincing smile, Nami decided to just go in for the kill. If Sanji wasn’t going to admit his obvious liking towards her female crewmate and friend himself, then she’d have to do it for him. “Maybe....maybe because you might have a little crush on y/n?” she offered with a raised brow, staring right at him. 
“Wh-what?? A crush?” Sanji quickly rebuked, jerking his head back. “What are we? Little kids?” 
From her spot at the table, Nami could swear she saw a faint dusting of pink appear on his cheeks. She smirked to herself. She got him. “Well,” she shrugged, “it doesn’t matter how old we get, we all get crushes from time to time.” 
You? A crush? Sanji shook his head as he resumed making the tangerine tart. Labeling whatever feelings he had for you as simply a ‘juvenile crush’ didn’t feel right to him. You were more than that, and you didn’t deserve to be labeled as such. “No, she’s not a crush.” 
“Oh, so you like-like her?” Nami said like it was obvious. “You like her as more than just a friend.” 
“I-” Sanji started but stopped himself and sighed, feeling his irritation grow the longer this conversation went on. Now even the kitchen wasn’t bringing him peace? First, smoking and now this? What was next? “Why does it matter? All of a sudden, my love life is interesting to you and up for debate? I don’t remember asking for your opinion.” 
Nami watched his jaw tense and his body become stiff as he started zesting the tangerines. Clearly whatever feelings Sanji was dealing with, he wasn’t ready to openly talk about them, so she decided to back off.
She put her hands up in surrender, slumping back in her chair as she said, “Hey, I’m...I’m sorry. You’re right.” Deciding to give the chef his space, she gathered her belongings and stood up, making her way to the counter. “If you ever need to...talk or anything, I’m here,” she offered quietly. In a normal tone, she added, “Let me know when the tarts are ready. I really do want y/n and Zoro to try one.” 
Speaking of the devil, you came into the kitchen from the deck, eyes lighting up at the sight of Sanji cooking. Seeing Sanji cook was one of your favorite things and you always loved to guess what he was making. “Sanji! Ooo, what are you making?” 
Nami watched as Sanji’s whole demeanor change at the sight of you, like a switch being flipped on. She couldn’t help but smile knowingly between you both. “I’ll be in my room,” she announced before making her way out of the kitchen, leaving you both alone. 
Sanji had a wide smile, shoulders relaxing as his eyes lit up. “Why don’t you guess? Give it your best shot.” 
“Oh! I love this game. Ok, let’s see,” you said as you surveyed the ingredients laid out before you. “I see flour, sugar, butter and tangerines...are you making a tangerine cake or something?” 
Whatever jealousy or anger he had been feeling all day just instantly disappeared once he was with you. He felt like himself again, all carefree and lighthearted as he chuckled at your guess. “Not quite, Missus. But nice try,” he said as he looked into your eyes with a crooked smile. 
Missus. You felt your heart skip a beat at the nickname and you felt your insides became all warm. You hoped your face didn’t give away your swooning. He's never called you that before and you hoped to God that he would never stop. 
“Ah, my bad,” you laughed embarrassedly. “What are you making then?” 
“I, am making a tangerine tart,” he proudly stated as he grabbed another egg, perfectly cracking it this time. “At the request of the ship’s navigator.” 
A wide grin broke out across your face. “No way!!” you squealed eagerly, causing Sanji to laugh. “I’ve always wanted to try one!”  
The blonde chef nodded. “Yes, she did mention that actually.” After a beat, he added, “I hope you like it.” 
“Of course I will,” you said without hesitation. “I know I haven’t known you for that long, but it seems like everything you make is phenomenal. You’re the best cook I know.” 
Normally, nearly everyone compliments his cooking (except for Zoro) and he never really thought anything of it. He knew was the best cook in the East Blue and someday, the whole world when he found the All Blue. But hearing that compliment from you? How you said it so easily and with such certainty? He felt a funny, warm feeling deep within his chest and when he looked at you, just like how you knew for certain that he was the best chef around, he knew right then that you really were the most beautiful woman he’s ever known. 
So, yeah. Nami was right. He guessed he did have a little crush on you, or ‘like-liked’ you- whatever she was saying.  
“Do you mind if I watch?” 
Your question broke the little staring trance he was in, blinking and tearing his gaze away from you as he tried to refocus on the task before him. He truly had to make sure this was the best tart he’s ever made. 
He nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly. God, he was probably acting like an excited puppy, but he couldn’t help himself. “Of course you can,” he agreed with a small smile. 
As you pulled up a stool to sit on the opposite side of the counter, Sanji realized something: him cooking in the kitchen with you sitting nearby? That’s something he could get used to and get used to very quickly. 
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coco-loco-nut · 16 days
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Book Club
Pairing: The grid x driver!reader, Lance Stroll x reader
Summary: A wild goose chase ensues when you are at a meeting with your book club
requests are open (plz send some, i can’t keep only getting ideas while driving 🥺) masterlist
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“Guys, have you seen y/n?” Lance panics, rushing into the McLaren garage. It’s not the first time his girlfriend had disappeared from her garage but he’s always been able to find you a few steps away.
“She’s missing?” Lando leaped out of his chair. “Come on, Oscar, we gotta find her,” Lando drags his teammate out of the garage, following Lance to the Mercedes garage to find George.
“Any y/n sightings?” a very stressed out Lance asks.
“No, but now I am invested,” the Brit tags along in the search, hopping over to the Ferrari garage.
“Mes amis, you seem stressed,” Charles says, looking up from his book.
“Y/n is missing, Lance can’t find his girlfriend,” Oscar sighs, not sure why he isn’t leaving the group.
“No, we must join the quest, Charles,” Carlos says, clapping his teammate on the shoulder.
“Alright, only for y/n,” Charles, like oscar, begrudgingly agrees to join the ‘noble quest’.
Meanwhile, y/n is sitting on the couch, wearing a chunky cardigan and a pair of fashion glasses, sipping tea.
“No, Lizzy was clearly in love with Darcy even then,” Fernando waves his hands. This month’s book was Pride and Prejudice.
“Sure, Fernando,” Valtteri rolls his eyes.
The book club, affectionately called ‘The Old Drivers Club’ started when y/n barged into the Haas garage, claiming she needed their opinions and that she was tired of all the young drivers. Despite her being only 21, she found a home with some of the older drivers in the Paddock. The club consisted of her, Fernando, Valtteri, Kevin, and Nico. Lewis wanted to hold on to his youth, as he claimed, and Checo didn’t quite care for their gossip sessions.
“I still don’t understand how you can go from a 20 year old party animal to a 80 year old grandma overnight,” Kevin teases the young girl, bringing up a common point of conversation (usually her complaining about the younger drivers).
“And I don’t understand how you all don’t find Nico attractive? If I was ten years older, I would be all over him. God damn, what a fine man,” you swoon, causing the German to blush fiercely.
“Yes, yes, someone who could outshine Charles Leclerc in his prime,” Fernando dismisses it with the wave of his hand. You giggle and refocus on the book discussion.
“Nando,” you prompt him, silently asking him to go to the next topic.
“Alright, alright, let’s discuss what was probably y/n’s favorite scene, the confession scene. The second one, not in the rain,” Fernando says, and you shyly look down, the older drivers knowing you too well.
“Max, Checo, have you seen y/n?” Lance asks, even more flustered, half the grid behind him.
“Y/n? Why do you ask?” Max says, looking at his teammate.
“She’s missing!” Lando exclaims causing Checo to laugh.
“No, no. She’s with her book club, in the Haas motor home. I sometimes join them, interesting gossip, but not quite for me, no,” Checo says, looking oddly at the group.
“Her- her book club?” Lance asks, utterly confused.
“Si. Lewis has been invited too, but he claims he is too young,” Checo laughs to himself.
���Sorry mate, a book club?” George asks, a little offended he was never invited.
“And gossip? I’m a little offended I’ve never been invited,” Pierre gasps.
“Well? Is that all,” Max asks, wanting the group to leave his garage.
“Right, well I guess we go to Haas,” Carlos says, quickly thanking the Red Bull drivers.
“VALTTERI!” Your astonished gasp is heard from outside. Your group had moved on to what some think is the more enjoyable part of the evening, the gossip.
“Y/n! Oh thank god, we were worried sick,” Lando dramatically says at the doorway, having opened the door, revealing your group. The five of you look at the other group wildly confused.
“Worried sick?” You ask, looking at them.
“You were missing, I couldn’t find you,” Lance scratches the back of his neck, a little confused.
“I,” you pause before laughing. “Lancelot, you could’ve texted me,” you tell him.
“Why weren’t Pierre and I invited?” George asks, looking accusingly at your group.
“You don’t fit the criteria,” Kevin says, dismissing the question.
“And y/n does?” Pierre asks.
“Yes. When she sits upside down on your couch to gossip and complain about you all, and ask for life advice, then we might consider it,” Nico shakes his head.
“She is the founder of our group,” Valtteri points out.
“You also have to find young Nico attractive, more than current Charles,” Fernando teases, causing the young girl to blush.
“He was!” You defend yourself, and Carlos nods in agreement.
“Your girlfriend, mate. I’m surprisingly glad I tagged along,” Oscar says to Lance, pretty amused at the chaos.
“Out of curiosity, what is your next book?” George asks, your face lighting up.
“We are on a classics kick right now, so we are reading the No Fear version of Romeo and Juliet,” you say excitedly causing George and Charles to groan.
“We can’t join?” Charles asks again.
“Sorry, Leclerc, only room for one hot driver here,” Nico winks at you, causing your cheeks to redden.
“HEY!” most of the drivers in the room take offense to it, Lando mainly because the wink was directed at his girlfriend.
“Alas, if only you didn’t have a wife and kid, and I was ten years older,” you sigh, shaking your head.
“In another life, Mein Liebchen,” Nico sighs as well.
“Alright, I’m stealing back my girlfriend,” Lance pulls you away.
“Lancelot,” you giggle, waving goodbye to your book club.
“It is in these moments that I remember how young she is and how old we are,” Fernando sighs, Lewis taking your seat.
“My bones ache more and more each day, mate,” Lewis shakes his head.
“Welcome to our club, have the first act read by the next race,”
1K notes · View notes
atinyreads · 5 months
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ATEEZ Fic Recommendations
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@atinyreads
i may or may not be intending to use this post as a bookmark and masterlist for all of my favorite recent reads :3. ANYWAY… sharing is caring, i NEED all of these masterpieces to get all the love in this world (how can they NOT).
> special thanks to @cafekitsune for the lovely divider 🤍
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Hongjoong
The villain by @yourfatherlucifer
sin for me (HJ & SH) by @yourfatherlucifer
be the light (HJ & SH) by @written-in-flowers
devil hongjoong prompt by @bvidzsoo
he’s kinda hot by @ohmyamor
corruption by @ja3hwa
weakness by @yeoblurbs
pride and prejudice by @edenesth
high end by @songmingisthighs
storms by @kpop-fanatic-lover16
Seonghwa
racer seonghwa by @k-hotchoisan
as it was by @starrysvn
ace of spades by @smileydk
and his name was death by @stayteezdreams
expectations by @spinster-sisters
submit by @kpop-fanatic-lover16
crimson white snow by @haosweater
Yunho
fell in love with a pirate by @mi-rae07
my bleeding heart by @honeyhwaaa
irrevocable love by @bvidzsoo
love is a sacrifice by @kpop-fanatic-lover16
Yeosang
prince of hearts by @mi-rae07
song for the dead by @i-luvsang
San
Jigsaw by @horanghaejamjam
not my type by @mother-atiny
sweetest lies by @atxxzist
house of cards by @justwritedreams
city lights by @shinestarhwaa
husband san by @thisthatpinkvenom
absence makes the heartbreak by @bro-atz
moll by @last-words-ofashootingstar
trains and cigarettes by @kpop-fanatic-lover16
Mingi
20 minutes by @yeosbbm
revenge by @mcsalterego
cornflower blue by @last-words-ofashootingstar
ledge by @brrrkdslek
Masquerade by @kpop-fanatic-lover16
Wooyoung
I like red by @starillusion13
wooyoung prompt by @ja3hwa
you smell divine (SH & WY) by @yourfatherlucifer
his by @starrywooyo
elixir of death by @darkphoenix07
since way back by @yeosbbm
dont go to bed angry by @yeosbbm
Jongho
by your side by @miniteezez
OT8
Lost you forever by @starillusion13
outlaw by @staytinyville
shock and awe by @yeeehwa
1K notes · View notes
sytoran · 7 months
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𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟑 — 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇-𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆
kinktober day 003 | IW!wife!wanda x gn!reader
you've always loved writing stories since young, but the tale of you and your wife writes itself, and it ends with a sweet happy-ever-after.
cont. soft sex, established relationship, romance + fluff
word count. 1477
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
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You’ve always had a thing for writing stories.
From the most devastating tragedies of a sapphic couple in medieval times, to the spiciest of female homoerotic tension during a zombie apocalypse, there were no words beyond the coaxing grasp of your vivid intelligence.
Encompassing was what it was, how the words flowed from the edge of your mindwires to the tips of your fingers, spilling onto page after page of literary beauty. You could get lost in it for days on end, spinning that marionette with a poetic dexterity, making her dance to your stories until her legs could take no more.
It was no secret that writing had been an extraordinary talent of yours, that would later take shape in the path of your future career. 
So there you were, sitting at your study desk on a lazy Saturday morning, nimble fingers flying over your keyboard in an intricate dance, each pausable breath, each rush of words that woved into the fabric of your story.
It’s quite picturesque, if you’re being frank; what with freshly brewed coffee in a steaming hot mug that read ‘Pride not Prejudice’ (Yes, there was an overload of rainbows decorating its surface,) and a breathtakingly idyllic view of the morning sky.
Of course, the skyline would never quite compare to the sight of your lady stepping out of the bedroom. The only causation to cease your words.
“Y/N?”
It’s a beautiful calling, tainted with a sleep-dragged croak of the throat. Brown doe eyes slowly blink to meet your gaze, soft feet making tentative contact with smooth marble.
“Hi, sweetheart,” you respond softly, eyes savouring the sight that is your wife in one of your cream Oxford shirts. Wanda's beauty is underlying and unsaid, beyond the boundaries of conventional and beyond your dictionaried words.
Certainly, Wanda has the traits of what define beauty: your shirt on her is partially unbuttoned to tease at a tantalizing cleavage, the hem of the clothing is high enough to show off the expanse of her porcelain legs.
But it's also the way the sunlight falls on Wanda's skin, like she's a descendant of the Gods that crafted the essence of light, like she was made to dance and roam in the beauty of the day.
It's the way the morning glow accidentally highlights her Grecian-sculpted cheekbones, and the way her light-brown freckles casually pop in that light. It's her collarbone scattered with your marks of violet hues, and that fading scar on her right thigh you never fail to kiss.
A sleepy sigh escapes from Wanda’s lips, and she runs a hand through her perfectly dishevelled hair. You don’t have to say anything, only nod your head in the slightest. The rest is second nature: Wanda slides herself into your lap, arms hooking around the back of your neck, head tucked into the crook of your neck.
Perhaps it was second nature, truthfully, because Wanda didn’t need control when she was around you. You were her control, her steadfast pillar, her rising sun. You were a constant in her ever-changing world, always by her side regardless of whatever insurmountable task might be in her way.
You let an imperceptible sigh of content slip through your lips, but you never stop typing for a second. Emotion was difficult for you to convey, paradoxically, considering the amount of feeling you could put into words. In actuality, it was hard for you to laugh carelessly or have an outburst of fury. Your emotion was quiet and unspoken, much like in the present moment.
Wanda, however, seemed to have other plans in mind.
It started off innocent, because you truthfully believed she was just being affectionate and physically in need of human warmth. And maybe it was, as your girlfriend eased into your lap, nuzzling adorably into your comforting scent.
But when Wanda’s hips begin moving unsubtly, breath growing more delicate on to the curve of your neck, you’re sure without a doubt that this is another one of those times Wanda sought a different kind of fulfillment, the kind that lay adjacent to her pretty thighs.
Your hands dance a little faster on the keyboard. Your eyes are still gazing over the top of Wanda’s head, firmly determined to complete this part of the novel you were working on. 
“Y/N…” Wanda says, reverently softly, pressing up into the warmth of your bodily heat. “Mhm?” you hum absent-mindedly, tucking your forearms in a little closer to entrap Wanda in your embrace.
You replace a comma with a fullstop just as Wanda shifts uncomfortably in your lap. Your wife’s legs fall open and slides her centre around the muscle of your right thigh. Something rises in your chest at the sensation of bare centre meeting your warm skin. 
She cranes her pale neck like a swan, pressing her warm mouth against your neck. You shift imperceptibly, switching a three-letter phrase into a subject-verb concord. When Wanda’s tongue pokes out between her ruby lips, when her sharp teeth scrape over the pulse point of your neck, when her curled hair brushes your exposed skin, an uncontrollable shudder runs through your body.
Backspace. Backspace. Backspace. Your spelling is becoming sloppy, almost like there’s a distraction.
Almost in retaliation, you jerk your knee up, the one that had been situated between Wanda’s thighs, and the mewl that leaves her mouth breaks her porcelain-doll composure. Satisfaction pools in your hips.
Words don’t need to be said between the two of you, as a slight shift in the atmosphere of the dining room sets itself. Wanda’s pants become shallower and quicker, the undulation of her hips speeding up, her legs clenching tighter around your thigh.
Your hands are flying over the keyboard now, your fingers twitching with bridled electricity, having need of some alleviation to express your ever-increasing libido. It’s a wonder how your eyes aren’t yet completely glazed over; yet, they’re moving in mechanical function to type, like you’re clinging on to a fragment of sanity. 
Because honestly, remaining sane while your wife let out the most pitiful whines into your ear certainly wasn’t an easy task. 
“Y/N,” Wanda cries, finally, emitting a sound as she clutches onto the soft fabric of your collared shirt. You can see, in your peripheral vision, the way Wanda’s face morphs into an expression of pleasure, the lines in nose-bridge forming a scrunch. 
Wanda is, without a doubt, the most breathtaking woman you’d ever laid your eyes upon. Reverent devotion bleeds from your mindwires and on to the page, staining it a crimson red as she nears her high. 
Your right thigh is moving in sync with each of Wanda’s humps, and she’s chasing that pleasure for all it’s worth: The clenching of your thigh muscles, the harsh jerks of your thigh as she struggles to ride it properly. 
Leaning down, your lips caress the shell of your wife’s ear, and from your mouth flows the words that are the final seal of acquiescence.
“Come for me, sweetheart.”
Just like that, something snaps inside Wanda, and the edge of your brainwaves fray like an old rope. In that moment, you know your words can take a rest. 
The movement of your fingers come to a halt. There was an unfinished story before you, the plot unfolding but not quite complete. But with Wanda by your side, she writes your story for you, carves the path towards a bittersweet ending. 
She takes the words from the deepest depths of your heart and lets it pour out her mouth, unashamedly, unapologetically, indescribable emotion overflowing from those blossomed lips into her trembling figure, her flushed cheeks.
“Y/N,” Wanda moans, and her sounds raise in pitch when you buck your hips up in a moment of your fractured composure. Her hips grind shamelessly onto the muscle of your thigh, chasing that stimulation.
It’s far from the most intense orgasms you’d brought Wanda to, because she can’t ever reach that level of ecstasy without your prodding fingers or your devil-tongued mouth. Perhaps that’s half of its beauty, though, that the two of you were incomplete without the other.
Wanda curls in your lap as she recovers from her high, enclosed within your forearms and the desk, face buried into your chest to engulf her senses in your scent. There’s sacred solace in the way you tilt your head down to press a fluttering kiss on her neck.
Your word document remains open but unfinished, the coffee in your mug grows cold. Sweet nothings and promised everythings are exchanged between the two of you until the sun has fully risen, hues of amber and gold painting the room.
The only story that mattered was the one before you, the one waiting to be explored.
You’ve had a thing for writing stories since young, and this particular one ends with a happy-ever-after.
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this fic is really special to me. i think it's probably some of the best writing i've put out there, so i'd be incredibly grateful if you could give it a reblog ♥
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
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1K notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 7 months
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Hating You Is The Easiest Thing I Can Do
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Summary: When your boss pulls your case out from under you and gives it right to the BAU, you're pissed. You're even more pissed when Doctor Spencer Reid suggests you can't do your job properly. After a week in his company, you decide to give him a piece of your mind
Warnings: Day One of Kinktober - Hate Sex, enemies to lovers, dom/sub, Mean!Dom!Spencer, Brat!Reader, spanking, degradation, spanking, spit kink, sir kink, vaginal fingering, slight creampie, Reader's boss is an asshole, typical office misogyny. Spencer is also an asshole, but that's just because he's a dumbass.
A/N: Special thank you to @reidmotif and @mrs-dr-reid for proofreading this one for me! I wrote this when on a major Pride and Prejudice moment, which is why there's a whole lot of plot before the sex. I hope you like the build-up just as much as the smut! <3 If you like it, don't forget to leave a like, reply, or reblog and tell me your thoughts! ((just as a reminder, apart for Sundays and Tuesdays, I'll be posting all the kinktober fics on AO3 exclusively, so check out my writing there - reiderwriter))
My requests are also back open now, so if you like my writing and have an idea, check out my request guidelines and drop me a message in my inbox! You can find the rest of my masterlist here :)
To say you were angry was an understatement. You were seething, the anger bubbling up inside of you and threatening to lash out at anyone who so much as crossed your path as you made your way down the crappy motel corridor. You'd only known Spencer Reid a week, but you could think of no one you despised more.
The FBI had always been a boys' club, you knew that. There were some goddamn strong women in your field office, of course, but you were outnumbered 10 to 1. Which was why you were so determined to do well on the first case assigned to you as lead Agent. The first week of the case, you'd made sure you were thorough. A body had been found in the park by a jogger, and you darted to the crime scene the moment you got the call. A woman in her early twenties, like you, had been raped, tortured, and then dumped here, her body posed in a demeaning way to make it seem as if she were performing a sexual act. Your entire body shuddered at the sight, but you couldn't let your coworkers see you weak so you powered through. Collecting evidence, getting an ID on the victim, interviewing potential witnesses, and yes, even breaking the news to the poor girl's family, you had been so attentive to every detail of the case and you felt you were making progress, your boss delivered a humbling blow.
"Another body has been discovered. I've invited the Behavioural Analysis Unit in from Quantico because you're in over your head." He'd told you, not even looking up at you from the file he was reading on his desk.
"What? I wasn't told about another body, why wasn't I notified?"
"I didn't think you needed to know, now that the BAU is coming in."
"So I'm off the case? That's it?"
"No, I want you to assist them in their investigation. Tell them everything you've gathered so far, get them situated in the office as best you can."
"Get them coffee when they want it? Rub their feet if they ask for it? This is bullshit, I was making progress, if you'd only have given me more time-"
"Agent, I suggest you walk out of this office right now and get your PMSing under control before I have to suspend you from fieldwork." You pressed your nails further into the beds on your palms then and bit back your tongue from replying, simply giving a terse nod and exiting the office.
It wasn't even an hour later before the new team arrived, and you offered a tense smile and welcome as you got them set up in their own office. The Unit Chief didn't seem too bad, but Aaron Hotchner couldn't exactly be described as the most welcoming of people, and you felt an instant camaraderie with JJ, the other agent who'd come into the office with him. There were more agents apparently, but they'd gone out into the field to check out the new victim and reinterview the family, something you weren't exactly happy about. But, if you were going to be their little bitch for the next week, you were at least thankful they were tolerable and polite.
"So here's everything I've got so far. I've been pretty thorough in my interrogations of potential witnesses, and there are no CCTV cameras in the general vicinity of the dump sites, so I don't think you'll find anything else there that'll aid in your profile."
" If you'd have been thorough you'd have found this though, right?" A new voice popped up from the door, and you felt yourself tense up under the sudden accusation. Looking up you saw he was holding up his phone, a picture of a strange marking on a tree lighting up the screen.
"Excuse me?"
"This was left on a tree roughly thirty feet from the first dump site. I called Rossi and Morgan and they found a similar marking near the second victim. It's a Mesopotamian symbol relating to the worship of prostitutes and sex workers to promote fertility." He spoke plainly, but all you could hear was the condescension in his tone, and your blood boiled with rage.
" Agent Y/L/N, I'm sorry about him, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, he's another member of our team." JJ introduced the man, sending him a warning glance, as if letting him know that he hadn't just put his foot in his mouth directly.
You looked at the man then, really focusing on him now instead of the pictures, and almost cursed out loud again. He was a jerk, but fuck was he attractive. Tousled hair, dark eyes, and a perfectly sculpted jaw, it was as if he were sent from hell directly to piss you off and tempt you. You pushed the attraction aside for the minute then, choosing to be the bigger person and introduce yourself.
"I'm Agent Y/N Y/L/N. And I'm sorry that I'm not an expert on Mesopotamian prostitutes, but I guess that's probably your specialty, right, Doctor?" You held out your hand for him to shake, but he just looked down at it.
"If you're referring to my doctorate, I actually didn't study classic civilizations. I hold PhDs in Math, Chemistry, and Engineering and additional BAs in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology. And I don't do handshakes." He glanced straight past you after that, walking back over to Hotch and filling him in on other things you must've overlooked during your brief time working the case.
You glared at his back, finally letting your hand drop to your side again as you let out an angry chuckle.
"Don't take it personally, Spencer is just… He’s He's not great with people. He'll warm up to you." JJ put a reassuring arm on your shoulder and you nodded. But inside you knew there was not one thing the man could do to reverse the bad opinion of him you'd just gained.
–X–
After the initial anger of having the case seeped out from beneath you wore off, you actually began enjoying your time with the BAU. You hadn't put much thought into profiling before, it usually being so far off your radar while you were working in the field office but you were actually coming to enjoy how they worked, and you'd learned a lot.
Your relationship with Spencer, however, only degraded.
Your hatred had reignited the moment you'd been joined by the rest of the BAU Team. Your boss has finally come down to greet them, and, almost as if making you pay for your earlier comments, had genuinely sent you on a coffee run for them. You could deal with the fact that the man had the most annoyingly complicated coffee order you'd ever heard of in the Bureau, but what you couldn't forgive were the sly comments you walked in on when you returned.
"Come on, Reid. That Agent is easy on the eyes, you should talk to her, get you a slice of that." You'd been introduced to Derek Morgan earlier and you'd instantly pegged him as a flirt, so this wasn't exactly shocking to you. What was a bit surprising was the other man's reply.
"If she's attractive I hadn't noticed. I've been too busy trying to clear up her mess with this case."
You walked in the door then, coffees in hand, and slammed his drink down on the table for him. You handed Morgan to him, double-checking that you'd got both of their orders right before shooting another glare at the man and walking away to find the rest of the team.
But not before hearing Morgan chastise Reid in another whisper: "God man, you gotta be nicer to the kid…"
To say that your working relationship had soured totally after your two personal encounters with the man was simply an untruth. You didn't have a working relationship, you had a working rivalry.
From then on, you'd slyly interrupt the man when he was speaking, telling him to cut his genius rambles in half, that you didn't have all day to sit around and wait for him to stutter his way through his theory while there was a murderer on the loose.
He didn't hold back either, constantly asking you questions he knew you didn't know the answers to, just to smile slyly down at you and make you admit that you weren't as good as him. It was getting so detrimental to the office atmosphere that you had to be genuinely separated after only three days, Hotchner bringing you into the field with him on multiple occasions and forcing Reid to stay behind with JJ to work on a geographical profile.
You'd been with Hotchner at a family interview, working with him to gain details of the second victim's actions and whereabouts leading up to her murder to establish a timeline when you got a call.
Excusing yourself from the room, you quickly picked up the call.
"This is Agent Y/L/N."
"Hotch isn't picking up his phone." That was all the explanation you got from the man on the other side of the phone, his voice instantly grating.
"Yes, I'd assume he isn't, Doctor Reid, because we are currently interviewing a bereaved mother and father and he put his phone on silent. Is there something you need?"
"I need to talk to Hotch."
"Well, you called me. What do you need?" You heard him breathe out a frustrated sigh on the other side of the line, and you rolled your eyes, slightly enjoying being this stubborn and getting under his skin.
"Just tell him we're ready to give the profile, okay?" He hung on you after that and you cursed him down the line, receiving nothing back but the empty beeps of the dial tone.
–X–
It didn't take long after delivering the profile to get your guy, but as he hadn't been in the middle of committing any felonies when you picked him up, you'd had to spend a few days in the interrogation rooms.
Hotch had taken a crack at him and gotten nowhere, and so had Rossi and Emily and Morgan. JJ had been the one to make the arrest, so she went in last and still came out with nothing much. He hadn't layered up yet, as they'd suspected he wouldn't, too egotistical to allow anyone else into the room that he thought he was going to talk himself out of.
"We're getting nowhere with this, Hotch. I think I have an idea that could get him to start talking." Reid said as you all stared at the man through the one-way glass.
"What, you think you can charge in there and get him to talk?" It was petty, but it'd been a stressful week, and he was used to this flow of conversation between the two of you.
"No, you are. Hotch, she fits his type, she's attractive, same build and coloring as the previous two victims. I think it'd work." You scoffed at his suggestion.
"Oh so now you think I'm attractive? I thought you hadn't noticed because you were, what, too busy cleaning up my mess?" You crossed your arms as he gave you an incredulous look, and you realized that he didn't think you'd heard him.
"Spencer's right, Y/N." Hotch nodded, looking between the two of you to see if he needed to pull you apart to keep you from fighting or to keep you from jumping each other. You personally weren't sure which you'd like most at that point, cursing yourself as you let your eyes trail down his body.
"It's going to excite him having you so close, you should pop a few of those buttons, too," Reid suggested looking down at your chest as you scoffed and crossed your arms.
"Oh you'd really like that," you mumbled under your breath, but a swift look from Hotch had you shutting your mouth again as he began to brief you.
Going in you felt a surge of pettiness seep through you. You were going to nail this guy, get him to talk about every little nasty thing he did to those girls, and prove to your boss that you could do this when every member of the BAU had tried and failed. But a small, dim, and annoying reminder at the back of your head whispered in your ear that you'd be pleasing Spencer then as well. Proving him right. You weren't sure if you wanted to succeed to hear him or your boss say "good job" to you after you finally succeeded, but when you imagined it with him, he was a whole lot closer, right in your ear, body pressed against yours.
You focused on your anger over your attraction and pushed into the room, ready to stare down a monster and escape unharmed.
–X–
It had worked, of course. It had taken a few hours of building rapport but you'd done it. You'd had him eating out the palm of your hand while he confessed to the three murders you knew about and an extra four that you didn't.
A day of retrieving bodies later and by 10 pm, the case was finally closed.
"Well done, kid, you really got him in that interview. That was some great work." Morgan nudged your elbow as he grabbed his duffle, exiting the makeshift office.
"Don't forget we're getting drinks at the cocktail bar in half an hour. Shower off that mud and change into a hot dress, Agent, and I'll buy you your first shot." Emily called back to you from the exit too, leaving you in a fit of giggles as you promised her you would.
Once they'd all gone, you started packing up your things ready to leave yourself when there was another knock at the door.
" Hey, I need to grab my bag." Reid stood in the door awkwardly, and your smile dropped into a politely neutral face as you nodded to him.
"Don't let me stop you, Doc."
"Spencer."He said, stepping a bit closer to you.
"What?"
"I want you to call me Spencer. You keep calling me Doctor or Doc, I want you to call me Spencer."
"No. Doctor Reid is just fine for me."
"And what if I want more?" He grabbed your wrist as you turned to go, using a bit too much force and leaving you stumbling into him, hitting his chest as you looked up at him, your noses almost touching with the proximity.
"Let me go," you growled, but his grip loosened and you didn't move an inch.
"What if I want more?" He asked again, a little more insistent this time, his eyes dark in the dim room, expression unreadable.
"Why should I care what you want, Doctor Reid?"
"Because I think you want it, too. Because I think that despite all the odds, you want me just as much as I want you."
Your anger burst out of you in a sarcastic laugh then at his presumptuous words.
"Despite all the odds? What odds are those Spencer? You treat me like shit, ignoring me, refusing to even shake my hand, and downplaying the hard fucking work I put in before you got here? God, you are so fucking narcissistic." You finally stepped away from him then, turning away to regain your composure.
"Me? I'm not the one who missed some vital fucking evidence in a murder investigation, Y/N, so I'm sorry I wasn't the most welcoming person, but God if we're talking egos, you should probably check yourself."
"Forget it, you're impossible. I really tried to be nice to you, but more fool me for making messes you had to clean up."
"Are you still stuck on that? Y/N, I'm sorry, but Derek just has a way of-" He stepped closer to you again and you could feel the oxygen being sucked from your lungs.
"Don't you dare blame this on Morgan. You're attracted to me and you fucking despise that, and it's none of Morgan’s fault. Now please, just get out of this fucking office and go back to your motel room." You practically hissed those last words at him, holding back the urge to scream in frustration. Your lips were so close now, as his chest heaved, hands clenched by his sides as he resisted the urge to grab you.
"Forgive me… for suggesting something so obviously repulsive to you." With that, he brushed past you and walked out, leaving you reeling at his almost confession, head light from the lack of air. He'd taken your breath with him as he left the room.
–X–
The promise of free shots had convinced you to get back out to the bar as promised, not letting Reid and his fickle moods control when and where you'd be enjoying yourself.
You finally showed up at the bar and were greeted by hugs from JJ and Emily, already one drink in as they immediately handed you a shot from the bar. Guiding you back to the table, you paused as you saw him there.
Morgan was sat at the table, happily chatting away with Reid, who'd since grown quiet, eyes meeting yours before leaving to rake down your frame. You resisted the urge to cover yourself, confidently standing tall as he devoured you with his eyes. Changing out of your work clothes, you'd decided that you needed some fun tonight, donning a short red dress, barely hitting the tops of your thighs, hugging your curves tightly, and pushing your chest up so it nearly spilled out completely. You'd completed the look with thigh-high black boots and a red lip, looking the absolute image of lust - or anger - personified.
"Whew mama, you look good, Y/N." Morgan greeted you, standing up to give you a kiss on the cheek. Reid still said nothing but kept his eyes trained on you as he took another sip of his drink.
"I was promised shots and dancing, I think I'm dressed pretty appropriately don't you think?" You smiled and giggled up at Morgan, letting your touch linger on him a little longer to see if it would spur Reid into action.
"Have I ever told you about my very good friend Penelope Garcia? I think you two would get along just fine."
The rest of the night continued in a similar vein. You'd stepped out onto the dance floor with Emily and JJ, letting whatever man wanted to sidle up close, begging one of them to be a distraction from the man whose eyes were boring into you from the other side of the room. It didn't work. Their hands were on your hips, guiding you to the sound of the music but in your head, all you saw was him, doing the same.
It didn't help that he was getting hit on constantly from his perch beside Morgan, and you watched with a bitter feeling at the bottom of your stomach as women tried, unsuccessfully, to get him to pay attention to them. After another frustrating invitation for a tryst with a local man, you excused yourself from the dance floor, finding Morgan in the bar, letting him know that you were calling it a night.
"Where's Reid?" You asked, trying and failing to sound casual as you glanced around the now crowded bar for signs of him.
"He left like ten minutes ago. Said he was tired and went back to the motel."
"Was he…" You didn't want to finish the question, not knowing which answer you'd prefer, but Morgan filled in the gaps himself with a wide grin.
"Alone? Yes, kid. Here, it's the address of the motel we're staying at and his room number." You hesitated before grabbing the paper and grabbing your stuff, practically running from the bar and hopping in the nearest taxi.
–X–
That's how you found yourself stomping down the corridor of the motel, pounding on his door at 1 a.m., unashamed in your brazen actions. He opened the door, slightly shocked to see you there, and you pushed your way inside and turned on him as you shut the door.
"What the fuck was all of that?" You demanded as soon as he turned back to you. His shirt was open now, jacket and tie discarded on the floor somewhere deeper into the room, but you forced yourself to look up into his eyes, away from the pale plains of his skin.
"What was what, Y/N?"
"You, staring at me like that the whole night and then just leaving."
"Did you want me to stay?"
"I want you to stop answering my questions with questions, Reid. This is bullshit, you can't act like a dick to me all week and then look at me like I'm a piece of meat you want to rip apart, for fucks sake."
"You made it very clear earlier tonight that you wanted no part of this, Y/N. Are you saying I should've done something else?"
"That's another fucking question, Spencer! If you don't start actually talking to me, I swear to god, I'll-" You ran a hand through your hair, and when you looked up again, he was closer than ever. You backed up into the wall, but he followed you, pressing a leg between your own. Slowly and with that condescending grin plastered across his face, he drawled out his next words.
"You'll what?"
Your lips crashed against his with the fury of your frustrations, a mess of teeth and tongue and biting anger as you surged forward into him.
With a rough push of your hips, he slammed you back into the wall, taking charge of the situation, coaxing his tongue into your mouth, battling you for control, and winning. Grabbing you by the neck he slowly pulled his lips away from yours, leaving you gasping for breath.
"Don't be such a brat, Y/N. When I ask you questions, it's because I want answers." You moaned as you tried to regain his lips, but he chuckled and kept you pinned.
"Tell me, baby, what should I have done earlier instead? Got down on my knees to beg your forgiveness, or thrown you over that desk and used you like a cheap little whore? I think I know which one you prefer."
You moaned at his words, but kept your mouth twisted in a grimace, choosing not to answer. He got tired of waiting, and, with a swiftness you didn't know he possessed, twisted you around so your hands were planted against the wall, your chest pushing against it too as he pulled your hips up and out, effectively baring your pantie-clad pussy to him as your dress pushed up and over your ass all by itself.
"So fucking slutty. You let all those men in that club touch you while you stared at me the entire time." He ran his hands across your ass massaging you underneath your underwear before pulling his hands away again and grabbing your hips. He pushed his clothed cock against you from behind and you moaned at how hard and big he felt already.
"Was this what you wanted, brat?"
"Go fuck yourself."
"I think you'd much prefer it if I fucked you, don't you think?" He turned you around again, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around him, the new angle pressing your core further into his cock.
"Open your mouth, now." Against your better judgment, your body reacted to him quickly, your tongue dropping out of your mouth as he ground his cock into your core, effectively dry-humping you. With a swift motion, he spat in your mouth, your eyes going wide as you instinctively shut your mouth and swallowed.
"Good girl," he stroked your hair, lifting you up and carrying you to the bed. His lips locked with yours as you tasted his spit on your lips, letting him take control and move you in any way he pleased.
"But you've been a brat," he said pulling away. "And brats need to be punished."
With that he forced you over his knee, pulling your panties down as he positioned your hips higher, your ass raised. He fisted one hand into your hair and began softly stroking your ass with the other.
"You're going to count for me, baby. If you lose count, we'll start again. With each number, I'll tell you what you did wrong, okay?"
"Fuck, yes, yes sir." With another soft touch, he pulled his hand up and bought it back again down sharply, letting it cup your ass as you hissed from the sting.
"O-One."
"That was for being a brat in the office. Being so confident you missed some vital evidence that was staring you right in the face."
He did it again, and you squirmed under his touch.
"Two."
"That was for teasing me in front of Hotch. Making me get hard right there in the office before you went to interrogate that creep."
"That made you hard?" You gasped out as he cracked out another slap to your ass. "Three."
"That was for talking. You need to stop fucking talking." He stroked your ass again, delivering a fourth, fifth, and sixth blow in quick succession as you felt yourself leak your arousal all over his lap.
"That was for dressing like a little whore tonight. That was for flirting with Morgan. That was for letting another man touch you. What do you have to say for yourself now, brat?" Your breaths stuttered out of you as you tried to compose yourself, confident that he'd finished your punishment now.
"G-Go…. FuckFuck yourself." He growled and threw you back on the bed, ripping your dress off over your head and letting his lips return to yours as he trailed his hand to between your legs, finally pushing two fingers inside of you as you moaned and writhed beneath him.
" I hate you," you moaned in his ear as his lips trailed down to your breasts.
"You have a funny way of showing it." Your orgasm was rapidly approaching, so close you could practically taste it. He sensed it as well, though, and pulled his fingers out of you before you could reach that bliss.
"You thought it would be that easy, brat?" he whispered in your ear with a low chuckle before flipping you over to your front and thrusting his fingers back into you from behind, causing another moan to rip from your throat, uncontrollably loud in the otherwise silence of the motel at night.
Unzipping his pants and freeing his cock, you felt the weight of it on your ass as he rubbed his precum against your now bright red asscheeks.
"You're going to look so pretty with my cum decorating your ass baby. It's going to make your ass feel better, too."
"You're disgusting," you spit at him, but your hips push harder into his dick, trying desperately to capture him inside of you and force him to use you.
"No more talking, bitch. Take my fingers." He pushed a hand into your mouth and you started twirling your tongue around them, using your distraction to finally violently thrust his dick all the way inside you. You screamed at the sudden filling, cumming around his cock in an instant, trying to milk him for all he was worth. But he clamped a hand down over your mouth so that all that fell from your face was escaped tears and muffled pleas for more.
"Gonna use you like this baby, gonna make you admit you love me."
His thrusts gained a steady pace as your brain emptied beneath him, desperate for more of the pleasure his body was supplying you with. He released your mouth then, content that all your energy seemed to be spent on pushing your ass back into his, listening to the wet, sloppy sounds of your activity.
"Do you like that, brat? You like me making you feel like this, huh?" He slapped your ass again as he thrust, and you moaned back with a nod.
"Yes, Spencer, don't stop… Don't stop." You moaned again, another orgasm rolling over your body, causing you to clench unconsciously around his cock.
"So good baby, you're responding so well to my cock." He trailed a hand underneath you to your clit and started rubbing it in time to his thrusts.
"One more for me. One more and I'll pull out, okay? Just one more."
"I can't, Spencer I can't do it.." You whined underneath him, face fully buried in the motel pillows. You were surprised he even heard you through the tears as the material.
"Yes you can, baby, look you're so close already, just do one more."
"I hate you," you moaned again, feeling your third and final orgasm wash over you, your eyes rolling back in your head as your body started twitching and didn't stop. You felt a small twitch from him too, as he finished thrusting inside of you, letting a little bit of his cum escape into you before pulling out and decorating your ass with his ejaculation.
He fell by the side of you and gasped desperately for a few minutes, before grabbing a hot wet towel from the bathroom and cleaning your ass off.
"Spencer…" you croak out eventually, regaining some clarity, but still not moving much from your spot in his bed.
"Spencer, I don't hate you."
"I know. I don't hate you either. Which is probably for the best."
"What? Why?"
"Hotch just requested your transfer to the Quantico Office so you could start training with the BAU. You did a good job this week, Y/N." Your eyes started watering again and you gently pushed away tears as he laughed at you, asking why you were crying.
"I'm not happy," you joked.
"I just realized that means I have to work with you more." You both laughed at that. You didn't hate each other exactly, but that didn't mean you could work together well either.
And you didn't want to if this was the outcome of your bickering and hatred.
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lolokouhm · 7 months
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thinking about Gojo, who's got a new hobby and that is, being your boyfriend. Gojo's technically good at everything without even trying, but when it comes to his new role as your romantic companion, he's on a different level. and oh boy, this time - he's making an effort.
thinking about Gojo, who drops everything, anything and anyone when you need him. you need a ride? he's on his way. you want some chocolate? he's already bought it. you miss him? oh well, that little curse can wait. it's not like it's that dangerous - the idea of you being in your apartment alone, watching some Netflix drama and thinking of him instead of touching him is a real matter of great urgency.
thinking about Gojo, who regularly watches "Pride and Prejudice" with you, even though he doesn't really like the story, but watching you go through the widest range of emotions gets him feeling a certain way. he's also a popcorn specialist now - the two of you went through A LOT of different snacks, but somehow popcorn has officially got the title of "the best snack to elevate a cinematic experience". he especially likes the caramel-flavoured one - this particular sort tastes even better when he pulls the crumbs straight out of your lacy bra.
thinking about Gojo, who's ridiculously excited to hear you say his name in a fake protest when his hands go there not only for the crumbs. it sounds even better when it gets whiney, right when Satoru takes the laptop off your lap and throws it somewhere. you hear a crack and this time you protest for real, but he doesn't give a slightest shit about that device. he'll buy himself a new one. after all, you taste like caramel and smell like those chocolate candles from that shop he discovered a week ago. he wasn't sure which scent you'd prefer, so he just bought every single one. guess he has his answer now.
thinking about Gojo, whose fingers get tangled in your hair, and his lips finally find yours. he's addictive, you knew that before, but with his every touch, every conversation, every inappropriate joke it feels like you're falling deeper and deeper, to the point where there's no going back. he's already there. he has no plans to go back.
thinking about Gojo, who sees you - and his six eyes tell him that you're his biggest treasure. the one must protect the most.
masterlist ❤️
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weasleyreidstyles · 4 months
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Serendipity
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chapter five
summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.
no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18.
pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader
warning(s): mentions of drugs/weed but only minor, its an angsty one folks!!
series masterlist; previous part; next part
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Madame Pomfrey had the house elves bring up food for you and the other occupants of the Hospital Wing when dinner time rolled around later that day. You enjoyed a plate full of roast chicken, potatoes and mash before the plate was magically vanished upon you finishing it before the matron came to check on you again.
Some time after that, the doors to the Hospital Wing are pushed open with an echoing creak but you didn't look up from your book to see who it was until your copy of Pride & Prejudice was plucked right out of your hands.
"Hey!" you protest, going to grab the book back from Mattheo Riddle's grasp. "Oh it's you."
"You sound so happy to see me." he teases as he sits on the edge of your bed. You stare from the fabric of the bed sheets to where he's sitting with raised brows.
"There's a perfectly good seat right next to you." you grumble as he enters your personal space.
"The seats are uncomfortable, I'd rather not sit on them again after I spent a good hour waiting for you to wake up earlier." he replied, forcing you to move over so that he could fit properly on the bed next to you.
"You stayed?" you asked incredulously. "Why?"
"You passed out the second we all saw Bell on the bed. I was worried. Sue me."
"Awh you care about me." you cooed, jokingly patting his knee before rolling your eyes.
He picked up the book that he had taken from you and flipped it around cover to cover, reading the blurb and scrunching his face up. "What's your book about? I don't understand it."
As you begin to explain Elizabeth Bennett's intricate and turbulent relationship with Mr. Darcy with fervour, Mattheo can't help but stare at you with eyes full of admiration and...something else.
Some time later, the dreaded conversation ended up coming around. You tell him how odd it felt when you saw the necklace; how your weird intuition seemed to carry over to the Hospital Wing when you saw Katie; to Dumbledore's cryptic visit.
"Dumbledore spoke to you?" he asked, curiously.
"Well at first he complimented my Occlimency abilities. Thank you by the way." you start. "But then he asked me about what happened when Katie was cursed."
Mattheo listened as you talked, nodding his head to show that he was paying attention.
"...and then he asked me to tell him what I felt when I touched a ring that he had in his possession."
"A ring?" A look crosses Mattheo's face, but it's gone in an instant.
"The magic was similar to the necklace, but different at the same time." you continue, picturing the Riddle insignia in your mind. "Dumbledore's hand is the way it is because of it."
You didn't know whether you should tell him about what Dumbledore said about Professor Slughorn, that seemed like something Dumbledore would want to be kept under wraps.
"He didn't really give me a solid answer, but he gave me sound career advice." you say with a huff.
"What happened when he gave you the ring?"
"Same thing that happened when I touched Katie. It burned me. But my magic was surrounding the ring this time. It felt...odd."
"Huh." He's quiet for a moment before he changes the subject once more.
"Your friends spoke to Professor Mcgonagall and Professor Snape earlier, after you fainted." he said. "Potter thinks it was Draco that cursed her. Accused him right in front of them."
"Did he do it? Malfoy?" you interject, Harry's theories had become more consistent over the last few weeks, and you weren't surprised to hear that he had suspected that Malfoy was behind this, despite ludicrous the allegations were.
"He had detention with Mcgonagall today. Didn't show up to transfiguration remember? He was pretty pissed off about missing the first Hogsmeade weekend." he says and you recall the detention being issued a few days ago when Malfoy appeared in the doorway of the Transfiguration classroom a quarter of an hour late.
"Right. Yeah." you say tiredly, somewhat unconvinced but you push the feeling aside when he begins to stand.
"Where are you going?" you say with a yawn, reaching for his left forearm. He winces but you don't catch it in your tired state.
"You're getting tired, and it's almost curfew. I need to get back to my common room so I don't risk getting a detention."
"Pansy's patrolling tonight. You'll be fine." you say, dragging him to sit down. "Stay a little longer. At least until I fall asleep. Please?"
The way you looked at him with your big, tired eyes caused him to falter.
"You don't really want me to stay, Princess." he murmured but he didn't move to stand again.
"I hate when you call me that." you say. "I wouldn't have asked otherwise, Mattheo. I don't want to fall asleep alone in here."
"Alright, move over then." his resolve crumbles and he moves to lie down behind you, using an arm around your waist to drag your body closer to his, his body heat warming you from the inside.
It takes you no time at all to fall asleep in his embrace, feeling the most comfortable you'd ever felt in your entire life. In your sleepy haze, you swore you felt him kiss the side of your temple, murmuring into your soft skin.
"Good night, sweetheart." he had whispered, before he fell asleep shortly after you.
~∞~
The week following his visit to the Hospital Wing, your interactions with Mattheo were few and far between.
Your lessons had dwindled after he had first started skipping out on you, but now he seemed hellbent on avoiding you altogether.
He had once again skipped your Ancient Runes lesson that week and Theo proved to be of little help when he refused to tell you where his best friend was. Pansy seemed to be growing increasingly agitated by her two friends over the course of the time Mattheo was ignoring you.
"For Salazar's sake, Teddy. Mattheo's just been a little busy this week." she said. "No need to worry. I think he's been doing extra Potions work."
"Do you know where he is now?" you ask your friend with pleading eyes.
Like Theo, she seemed reluctant to give you the boy's location, as if they knew something that you weren't supposed to know, but in the end they shared a look and relented.
"He's in the Room of Requirement." Teddy says, before his hands gently grip your shoulders. "But we never told you, okay. I don't want to die a premature death, tesoro."
"Thank you. I won't tell him you helped, don't worry Teddy." you reassured him before walking down the corridor and towards the system of staircases that would take you to the seventh floor.
Due to the interval between lessons ending and new ones beginning, it seemed to take you ages to get from point A to B, with everyone lingering in or rushing through the corridors but when you got to the familiar wall, you waited.
I need to see Mattheo.
I need to see Mattheo.
I need to see Mattheo.
I need to-
The door began materialising in front of your eyes, reminiscent of the late evenings that you'd come here with your friends for DA meetings before Umbridge and the Inquisitorial Squad had it disbanded. Your hand still had that prominent scar from the two weeks of detention you had each received: I must not disobey the Ministry.
When the door was fully formed, you twisted the handle and slipped through.
The room appeared to be huge and full to the brim with piles upon piles of junk. It was going to take you forever to find him, but you knew he was in there somewhere.
You started down a pathway that had appeared between some old arm chairs and bookshelves and followed where your gut was telling you to go.
It was quiet, too quiet and you were about to give up hope when you saw Mattheo lounging on a dark velvet chaise lounge, a blunt hanging in his lips, something shiny resting in his lap that looked an awful lot like a tiara, which he vanished away when he saw you.
"So this is what you do in your spare time?" you ask, hesitantly sitting at the edge of the chaise lounge, by his feet.
He only sighed as he took another hit of the blunt, leaving you to carry on speaking without a reply.
"How'd you even get that into the school? It's more illegal for wizards to get their hands on than muggles." you turn your head to face him only to find him staring straight ahead, avoiding your gaze altogether.
You huffed before you stood up and rounded the chaise to stand directly in front of him; he continued to stare in the opposite direction.
"For Rowena's sake, Riddle. Look at me." you snapped, using the pads of your fingers to firmly direct his face to yours.
His gaze was void of emotions when he stared at you. Like it had been all the times before when he'd antagonise Harry or Ron with his friends. His eyes were no longer soft like they had been with you these past months. They were cold and dark and angry.
If you hadn't have grown some sort of friendship with him, if you could even call it that, then you'd happily go on ignoring his existence again. But for some reason, you couldn't shake him, wouldn't shake this hold he had on you.
"What do you want, Meadow?" he asked, voice low and raspy, as if he'd not spoken in a while. "I thought you'd get the hint by now? Or are you seriously that stupid?"
"You confuse the absolute fuck out of me, Riddle." you say, beginning to grow annoyed at his apparent nonchalance. "What's your issue? You agree to help me out for Theo's sake and the second it gets complicated you what? You just....leave?"
"'S not like we're mates, Meadow." he grumbles, rolling his eyes as he takes another hit. "Actually I'm pretty sure we're supposed to be enemies."
"The whole point of the lessons is for me to help you and your friends get out, is it not?"
"To get them out. Not me. That wasn't the deal." he snaps.
"I agreed to help. That includes you, too."
"And how did you honestly expect that to go down? Huh!" he stood up so suddenly that you stumbled backwards, into the table that was behind you.
"How do you think the Order will react when you go to them, pleading for my case? The son of The Dark Lord on their side? They'd sooner call you a traitor for even associating with any of us." he had gotten closer to you, so much so that the toes of his shoes kissed your's.
"They would be understanding. If you told them how much you hate him-"
"And you think they'd actually believe that?" he snaps, stepping even closer to you. You had to press your hands against his firm chest to stop him trapping you further against the table. "They'd show mercy to Theo and the others. That's all I care about. I didn't want any of them to be involved. You need to get them out. Not me."
"But why?" you question harshly, looking at him through your lashes. His brown eyes were pure onyx now, no traces of the boy you'd gotten to know were present.
"I am my father's son, sweetheart. My fate has been sealed since the day I was born. There's no helping me." he says quietly, his eyes boring into your's.
"Let me help you. Please." you say resolutely. "We'll think of something. They have to hear you out."
"They won't."
"They have to." you insist. "What kind of people would they be if they refuse to help someone in need."
"They can't help someone who can't be saved, sweetheart."
"For fuck's sake Mattheo! Why are you being so stubborn?!" you snap, your voice raising in octaves that surprises both of you.
"Why are you so determined to save me?" he shouts back, leaning down so that your faces are level. His hands sit on either side of your thighs, bracketing you to the table as his breathe huffs against your cheek, the scent of weed and smoke overtaking your senses. He's breathing heavily, eyes flicking between your's and your lips. Mattheo seems to be holding onto what little resolve he has left before the unthinkable happens.
He's staring at your lips now. Your breathe hitches as he seems to contemplate something but you can't see his thoughts very clearly.
It's only a split second decision but you can see it, the moment he decides to let go.
"Fuck it." he mumbles before his mouth decends on your's. In your shock you don't realise that you've practically frozen until he pulls away with wide eyes.
"Shit- Meadow I'm sorry I-" you snap out of your frozen state and don't let him finish his sentence as you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and kiss him like your life depended on it.
The feeling is euphoric. His lips are like a warm and gentle hug against your own; it feels right. Like the missing piece of a never ending puzzle was finally put back into place. You're so in your head that you don't even register the unceremonious moan you let out when Mattheo's tongue sensually brushes your own. It allows him to deepen the kiss and you think you might die happily right then and there, with his soft lips on your's.
Gods, sweetheart. he groans, his inhibitions down, so you feel everything he feels. Every thought and every desire. If I knew kissing you felt this good, I would've done that much sooner.
When you eventually pull away from eachother, only a hair of space was left between you, your breathing equally heavy.
His onyx eyes held that familiar softness that he seemed to only show around you, his lips quirked into a cheeky grin.
Merlin, he was the most attractive boy you'd ever layed eyes on. It was then that you realised that you were well and truely fucked.
~∞~
omg they kissed 🫢🫢
the one bed trope gets me every time 🤭🤭 i think we can all agree that mattheos a bit of an idiot but the guy's got his secrets...😁
and i love angst and slow burns so much but i couldn't help myself lol i love a '"fuck it" and they kiss' moment but im sorry this was short. i was contemplating carrying this on or splitting the chapter into two which is what im doing so really this is more of a filled chapter for whats to come ;)
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taglist:
(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)
@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora
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nsk96 · 1 year
Text
Writing Help
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General Tips
The purpose of writing
Important: only you can tell your stories
Every fanfiction genre has value
HOW TO STAY MOTIVATED!
Maintaining Motivation
Reasons to Keep Writing
Stretch your hands and fingers
Analyze the stories that you like
Title creation
How to comment on your favorite fics
Moodboard sources
PIRATED FAN FICS!!!
Fanfiction is legitimate (featuring Neil Gaiman)
Angst and Horror: if you can't handle it
Publishing
Writing Smut: overcoming shame
Don't toss your work
Dialogue / Writing rules
Prologue
Paragraph breaks
Sentence length matters!
Dialogue punctuation
Scene Checklist
Body Language
Descriptions between dialogue
3 dots in a sentence (Ellipsis)
Using adverbs
Using adjectives
Coming Outs
Commonly misused words & phrases
Words to Avoid
Flirting!
World Building
World building through plot holes
Using context clues
Creating land
Government
Matriarchal society
Dystopia
Descriptions
Resources for Describing Physical things
Alcoholic drinks & cocktails
KISS SCENES
Clothing references
Sewing sources (includes history of fashion)
Hair texture
Skin color/tone
Sword / Martial arts inspo
Character Development
Character sheet
Character sheets
Character development, agency, plot
Esk*mo is a slur
Naming characters
Naming characters in other cultures
Emotional intelligence
Human body limits
Making threats and the third option
Bartenders
Children
Kids
Asian characters
Muslim characters
Slavic characters
Russian names
Mixed characters
Bilingual characters
Blind or Visually Impaired
Morally grey
Dangerous female characters
Liars
Romance development
Healthy Relationship
Sacrifices
Redemption arc vs forgiveness
Redemption arc trope
Regret / Remorse
Prompts/one-liners
Prompt masterlist
Another prompt masterlist
A third prompt masterlist
Best friends to lovers
Mob Boss
Prophecy of lost child
Super power of truth
Enemies to lovers
Enemies to lovers: Reasons to hate
Enemies to lovers: Getting together
Enemies to lovers Prompts!
Enemies to lovers: Fake dating
Past-life Enemies to lovers
Late-night wandering
Compliments
Touch-starved
Romance/physical intimacy prompts
Romance: little acts of love
Smut
Reputation
Break-ups
More sources
Masterlist: body language, words, translator
Masterlist: prompts, LGBTQ+, NSFW Advice
Meme: fanfiction problems
Mr. Darcy (Pride and Prejudice)
Bechdel Test
Part 2 ->
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sprout-fics · 9 months
Note
EM I am begging u for more Omergaverse with all of the world's sprinkles and cherries on top
This has been a long time coming BUT since I've had several people ask I shall provide additional thoughts on the matter
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Poly Omegaverse TF141 Headcanons
(Poly TF14 x F! Omega Reader)
(Part Two: The Pack)
Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Group dynamics, Poly TF141, SoapGhost, PriceGaz, Heat/Rut cycles
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So lemme start by again reiterating that I am certain of these men's designations
Price is an alpha, always has been. He's a captain, he's a leader, he's extremely skilled by there's also a violence in him that grows dangerous when it threatens something he's sworn to protect. Very Alpha instincts
Simon is an alpha too, built like one to match. He's big, muscular, dark and stormy. He doesn't pay much attention to his designation, but Simon in a rut is a dangerous thing. He's a whiplash of emotion and need that turns to hunger
Soap, being an omega, hid his designation for many years of his service before joining the 141. He, like you as an omega, knows all too well the bias and prejudice against 'weak' omegas in the military. The fact that he's now TF141's resident demolitions expert is an immense sense of pride for him, defying all the things he's been told about how omegas cant achieve the things he has
Two alphas and an omega is a pretty potent mix, which is where Gaz comes in. He's the soothsayer, the diplomat, and though he's prone to being very tongue in cheek sometimes, he also provides a calm for the group that solidifies the bonds involved. He provides a softer edge to Price's sharp leadership that you and the others appreciate
Also, because I'm weak for poly141, I think there's additional nuances to their relationships as well
It's pretty clear early on that Soap and Ghost are a thing. Soap needles his alpha and Ghost is entirely too weak to his charms. Soap knows how to handle Ghost best when he's in a mood, rut or otherwise, enough so that Gaz has joked before about Soap being Ghost's 'handler'
(He only made the joke once because the look Ghost gave him was enough to make him lay ide awake with a knife under his pillow that night)
Price feels a certain amount of protection over Soap as well, partly due to loyalty and partly due to alpha instincts of protecting an omega on his team. Ghost allows it only because he deeply trusts Price, had seen him save the life of his mate more than once. As much as Price and Soap are involved, there's always a bit of an air that Soap was Ghost's first
Granted, Ghost is also fairly protective over Gaz as well. He sees Gaz as part of their pack, a needed component to the bonds they share. It takes a while, but Ghost becomes used to giving Gaz some needed physical touch, and doesn't complain when Soap invites Gaz into a cuddle puddle
Price treats Gaz as if he were his own, because he is. He didn't just take the sergeant under his wing, he took him into his heart too. Gaz's endearing loyalty is a hard thing to find, and Price knows the beta will follow him anywhere if he asked. So he treats him just as well, gives Gaz almost all the things the younger man hopes for in his mate
Gaz and Soap are a pair, and definitely get up to trouble if they are left by themselves. The nonsense is usually Soap's idea, but Gaz is an enabler no matter how much he tries to deny it. Price and Ghost have had to scruff their sergeants on more than one occasion like naughty pups
Between the four of them it's easy for them to divide up into pairs, but there's strong ties that connect them all in varying degrees of complexity, but also trust
Heats and ruts are an entirely different topic
It's made all the more complicated by the fact that the team all have irregular deployments. So ruts and heats aren't always synchronized. Stress is a major factor in altering cycles, and despite the time together, it's not often that they overlap
Soap is used to dealing with heats on his own prior to joining TF141, but has to be reminded by Gaz it isn't healthy long term to do so by himself. It becomes less of a problem once Ghost enters the picture (They literally have to be locked away on a far section of base when their cycles sync because good God)
Even so, Ghost often does alone missions, so there are times when he can't be of much help. He and Price have a long sit-down come to Jesus meeting with Soap where they agree Price will step in as needed. After the first few times the boundaries become a little looser as they get comfortable with each other
Likewise, Gaz acts as intermediary when Soap is unavailable. He's eager to please, but requires some gentler handling than Soap, who thrives off being tossed around in bed. Soap teaches some tips and tricks to gentling both alphas, but especially Simon
It's not uncommon outside of cycles for the boys to get fall into bed either
Gaz and Soap love having fun in bed when they can. Gaz loves getting Soap from his shit-eating, snarky grin into burying his face in the pillows, shaking and pleading, and likewise Soap enjoys treating Gaz as well as he deserves
Price and Ghost having sex is a fairly rare occurrence, and often a carefully constructed one due to their designations. Price recognizes Ghost needs some very specific attention in regards to being topped in bed, which he is more than happy to provide. I personally headcanon that Price doesn't enjoy being topped much, but will do it for Gaz to make him happy
Ghost and Gaz is an entirely different matter. Ghost recognizes Gaz is very different than Soap in bed, and requires different handling. Gaz recognizes that sex with Ghost is intense. A little overwhelming, but always leaves him very satisfied by the end
Price, on the other hand, and Soap? God help him
Soap is a brat, and he knows it. Ghost puts up with it to some degree, but Price has none of it. He knows how to treat Soap right, but he also knows how to make him behave. Simon joins on more than one occasion just to enjoy the sight of Soap realizing he can't pull the same tricks with Price that he can with Ghost
The entire pack is built on communication and trust, and though it takes time for them all to settle into it, the four are more than happy to be each other's mates.
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moonsgemini · 10 months
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good for you - rafe cameron
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summary: Rafe just wanted to be good. He wanted to be good for her, but somehow he always found a way to mess things up. And of course she’s there to help him clean up the mess.
warnings: angst, fluff, rafe gets arrested, insecurities from rafe
wc: 1.9k
an: hope you all enjoy!! I kinda lost inspo towards the end but regardless I still kinda like it. um also I’m 5 days sober so love that for me, I’m taking a tolerance break to clear my mind & it's helped so much so far.
masterlist
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She was laying on her bed reading Pride & Prejudice, trying to stay away from her phone. She was trying to build better habits like not going on her phone before she went to sleep. It was a cool summer night, her balcony doors open letting the smell of the beach enter her room. Her eyes were starting to involuntarily shut as sleep started to overtake her, but she was jolted awake as her phone started vibrating on her night stand.
It was almost 12am who would be calling her at this hour. She peeked over and the name on the screen made a pit in her stomach form. Kildare Sheriff’s Department. She didn’t have a single clue as to why she was getting a call from the police at this hour. Her stomach turned as her mind raced jumping to conclusions like someone she knew being in an accident.
Hesitantly picking up she muttered, “Hello?”
“Hey uh it’s me.”
Her mouth went dry, “Rafe? Are you okay? What’s going on?”
Y/n had only moved to outer banks a few months ago. She had met Sarah one day when she was shopping at a boutique in the figure eight. Being the bubbly outgoing person that Sarah was she invited her to a party going on that night. Usually y/n wouldn’t go to a random party alone but it was summer and how else was she going to make friends. She had promised herself that in the Outer Banks she was going to be different. She wasn’t going to bury herself in her books and be secluded missing out on all the things a teenager should be doing like she had been in her old hometown.
When she arrived at the party she was received with weird looks and she had immediately regretted her decision. She wandered around hoping someone would come up and talk to her or she’d bump into Sarah. Luckily she did bump into her, the girl immediately took her under her wing and introduced her to some people. Y/n even had a few drinks as she talked with the girls she met. She was actually enjoying herself. After a while she went off to find the bathroom, that’s when she bumped into a 6’2 dirty blonde.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” She mumbled stumbling back a bit, her balance a little off after a few seltzers.
Rafe looked down at the girl not recognizing her as a regular at these parties, “No worries.” He smirked, he definitely would have remembered her.
She looked around not really knowing where she was going, “um do you know where the bathroom is?”
Rafe thought she was extremely cute. She was like a lost puppy and he would do anything to help her find her way, “It’s the last door on the right, have we met before?” He asked knowing they definitely haven’t.
“Probably not, I just moved here a couple weeks ago. I’m y/n.” She smiled as she felt her face heating up. She thought he was extremely handsome, he had a slightly cocky demeanor but she couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t into it. The way he looked at her like she was his prey made her feel something warm in her stomach. In her old town no boy had bothered to give her the time of day so having the attention of someone as handsome as him was overwhelming.
Rafe’s smirk grew, “That makes sense I think I’d remember if we met, I’m Rafe.”
He knew he was a goner when she looked up at him with those big eyes and that smile. Everything about her was captivating to him. He liked looking at her smooth exposed legs in the small skirt she was wearing and her collarbones that were begging to be kissed by him. He also liked the fact that she didn’t know who he was. She had no idea he was a bad person the way everyone said he was.
Ever since that night Rafe and y/n had been practically inseparable. They spent their days together whether it was at the beach while she read her books on the sand in that small bikini while Rafe surfed. Or they’d go to parties together, Rafe’s arm around her the whole night. Not letting her out of his sight and making sure everyone knew she was Rafe’s girl even though they weren’t dating. Rafe hadn’t asked her out yet, he wanted to be better before he made anything official.
Rafe had become better. He wasn’t doing coke anymore and he stopped drinking so much, limiting himself so only a few drinks. He even started doing everything his dad asked him to instead of doing whatever was in his best interest. But Rafe was nowhere near perfect. It’s why he was calling her from the sheriff’s department at midnight. He felt like he had just fucked up all the effort he had made to be better with one stupid night.
He had gone out to a bar with a few friends and he had maybe had a bit too much to drink. Maybe he had a lot to drink and he might of started a fight with some guys. Which resulted in him being taken to the police station to sit in the drunk tank or be picked up by someone. He had one phone call and he couldn’t call his dad, he’d just yell at him and let him stay there over night. His friends weren’t the most reliable people and Sarah wasn’t exactly going to jump at the opportunity to help him. He only knew one person who would help him, but he felt embarrassed by his actions. This isn’t the Rafe he wanted her to know, but he was desperate.
“I’m o-okay. Can you come pick me up?” He hiccuped, “I fucked up y/n. Please can you come.”
She was already steps ahead of him. She had began putting on an oversized sweatshirt and her sneakers. Rafe meant a lot to her, he was one of the only people that actually listened to her. He saw her in ways that no one ever tried to. She would do anything for him. She had heard a few rumors about him but she didn’t pay any attention to them because it seemed like that Rafe was gone. Her Rafe was gentle, kind, smart, and protective.
“Of course Rafe. I’ll be there soon okay?” She said hoping to calm him, she could hear him sniffle lightly.
“I’m so sorry y/n,” He said in an almost whimper.
She shook her head even though he couldn’t see her, “There’s nothing you need to apologize for. I’ll be there soon okay?”
“Okay. Thankyou y/n.”
“Anything for you Rafey.” She smiled just thinking about him. His heart clenched at the nick name, how could she be so perfect. How could she not be angry with him for being so stupid.
When she arrived at the police station she went up to the front desk and nervously looked around. Waiting for someone to come up and help her.
“Hi, what can I do for you?” Shoupe asked as he appeared from around the corner.
“Hi um I’m here to pick up Rafe Cameron,” She said almost uncertain.
He nodded his head, “I’ll go get him, if you can just fill out these papers for me.”
“Mhmm thankyou,” she smiled sweetly.
Shoupe walked back around the corner and down the hall to the holding cell. Rafe sat there his head in his hands.
“Cameron, let’s god.” He started unlocking the door to let the young man out.
Rafe stood up quickly, because she actually came. A part of him worried that you wouldn’t show up. She’d see what a mess he was calling her at midnight and just leave him there. He couldn’t wait to see his girl. Shoupe walked him out to the front and there she stood in his sweatshirt and some sleep shorts. He felt a pang of guilt go through him knowing he disturbed her.
“Rafe,” She said letting out a relieved sigh. He had a cut lip and bruised cheek. His knuckles were cut up and bruised.
He practically ran towards her to hug her. He burried his head in the crook of her neck, taking in the scent of vanilla and shea butter. All of his worries disappeared as he held her.
“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled wishing he could just stay this way forever.
“It’s okay, let’s go home.” She pulled away from him holding his face in her hands to examine him better. Her eyes watered slightly as she took in his hurt perfect face.
They walked to her car in silence, she had a million questions but she waited to ask. Once in her car she looked over at him. He looked so broken, so upset at himself.
“What happened Rafe?” She asked.
He looked over at him with watery eyes, “I-I don’t know. One minute I’m having a drink and then another. Then another and another. Then this guy shoulder checked me on his way to the restroom and I-I just lost it. I don’t know why.” He shook his head thinking about how stupid his reason for starting the fight was.
“Rafe, people make mistakes.”
“I’ve made so many mistakes. I just want to be good. I want to be good enough for you, but I’m so stupid, I’m a loser and an idiot. I-I don’t deserve you.”
She leaned across the console and held his face in her hands rubbing her thumbs gently across his cheek bones, “Don’t say that. Rafe I would come get you from here every day if you needed me to. You can’t be so hard on yourself, it matters to me that you’re trying to be good. You are good. I’ve never once thought that you weren’t.” She cared for him more than he would ever know.
He couldn’t find any words to say because none existed that would describe how much love he had for her. No one believed in him the way that she did. He reached over mimicking her and placing his hands on her cheeks pulling her into him. His lips meeting hers, his lip hurt as he kissed her. Her hands dropped from his face and moved to his shirt, desperate hands gripping at it trying to pull him closer.
Rafe hummed in satisfaction at the feeling of her mouth on his, something he had been dreaming about for months now. The way their lips moved against each other seemed like they had been doing this forever. She let out a small whimper and it made his head spin. His hand ran down her face to hold the side of her neck, finger entangling in her hair. His other hand moved to her waist. He really wished they were in his bed right now so he could really show her how much she means to him. But he wanted to take things slow with her.
They pulled away, foreheads pressed together as they caught their breath. She felt so dizzy, all her senses were overloaded on Rafe Cameron.
“Did you know that you’re perfect?” He said quietly.
She laughed softly, “You’re perfect. Come stay with me tonight.
“Anything you want,” He pecked her lips. For the first time in his whole life he didn’t feel less than.
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