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nereidprinc3ss · 15 days

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do you believe me now? | 3

in which spencer reid spends a rainy day teaching inexperienced fem!reader how to touch him. of course, her efforts don't go unrecognized, much less unrewarded

part one | part two

18+ (smut) warnings: inexperienced reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, oral m receiving, reader swallows lol, a truly sickening amount of praise, like really, you JOKINGLY refer to each other as dirty sluts, r has longish hair, spit mentioned once, thigh riding (moans loudly), its filthy idk what to tell you, i feel like i've crossed the desert on foot i don't even know what else is in here, your honor they're in love, i take you to dinner first, this part is stupidly long a/n: had a fucking field day the three separate times i had to rewrite this el oh el... but think i like how it turned out?! anyway, if u like this PLS lmk bc writing it took a small piece of my soul, and yes there will be a part four!! take care of yourselves!! i love you!!!

You give Spencer half a minute or so before knocking on his door for a second time.

It’s miserable outside, and though the hallway you’re standing in now isn’t terribly cold, you’d much prefer to be in Spencer’s apartment, where it will be the same toasty 68.5 degrees as always. Not that the heating will magically dry you. And not that you’ll be there for long, if the date you’d scheduled last week goes on as planned.

You’re getting worried, about to knock for a third time when the locks finally click and the door opens to reveal a disheveled Spencer Reid—not at all looking ready for a date. You take in his ensemble; blue checked pajama pants, FBI Academy crewneck, the usual questionably paired socks. He’s rubbing his droopy eyes, which slowly widen as he notices your attire.

“Shit, I’m sorry, our date! I mean—you look really nice. I look… like this. Why don’t you come in while I get ready to go?”

He holds the door open a little wider and you step through, relishing in the familiar warmth as you pull your hood down and excess water droplets spatter on the ground.

“When did you get in?” you ask, hanging your raincoat up on a hook. You know he’d wrapped up a case yesterday evening, but you’d gone to sleep before the team left Cincinnati.

Spencer pauses in the middle of the room, staring at the antique flooring like he forgot what he was doing.

“Uh… four hours ago.”

“Wh—four hours? Spencer, you must be exhausted.”

He laughs awkwardly, running a tired hand over his face.

“I mean… I’ve definitely felt better.”

You kick your soaked shoes off and cross the room until you’re toe to toe with him. Immediately his hands settle on your waist and yours find his arms. His eyes are kind, and he’s clearly pleased by your presence despite his lack of energy.

“The weather’s terrible, anyway. Let’s just go out another day.”

His features have softened and you can see how tired he truly is—not just in his bleary eyes, but the way his fingers grasp weakly to you, the way his head bows slightly. It seems bone-deep.

“But I haven’t seen you in a week. I don’t want you to go home.”

Your lips twist. A clap of thunder rolls in the distance and the rain starts coming down even harder against the windowpanes.

“We could hang out here. We can take a nap!”

Spencer sighs—half resignation, half disappointment.

“But we made such good plans,” he laments.

You kiss his cheek.

“Plans that can be rescheduled. The bookstore will still be there next weekend.”

It takes him a moment to settle into the idea, but you watch the exhaustion win.

“Okay. But no nap. I want to be awake for you. Coffee?”

You nod enthusiastically, beaming at the prospect of getting to spend the day doing nothing with him. Spencer mirrors your grin, before pressing a kiss to your head.

“You’re so cute.” Heat creeps into your cheeks and you can’t think of a satisfactory reply, but in the end you don’t need to, as he tugs gently on your hands. “C’mon. Tell me what mug you want.”

The kitchen counter bites into your palms as you lean with your back to it, watching Spencer putter all around the kitchen as he works on the coffee. It makes you tired just to watch.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap? Caffeine isn’t a substitute for sleep, you know.”

“I do know,” he agrees, measuring coffee grounds. “But other than last night, I actually slept fairly well this week.”

“You seem exhausted.”

“I… am tired in lots of ways. Not all of which can be resolved with more sleep.” he admits.

Your heart drops ever so slightly at the way his voice weakens as he looks through the fridge. Sometimes you remember there are still things you don’t know about him—sides you haven’t met. His work side is one of them, and it more than a little intimidates you.

“Bad case?” you ask, voice quiet and crackling with nervous energy.

Spencer nods, approaching and setting a carton of milk on the counter behind you—caging you in with his arms in the process. It’s hard to find the words when he’s this close, but you manage to stumble through them.

“Do… do you wanna talk about it?”

Spencer hums, tilting his head before gently saying, “not right now. But thank you for offering, lovely.”

“Okay, well—if you change your mind… if there’s anything I can do to make you feel better…”

Finally he stops with the teasing—the unabashed staring at your lips, the faux-attentive nods—and drops his head to your level to kiss you properly. It’s obviously an attempt to get you to shut up, you’re not dumb enough so as to miss that—but you don’t really care why he’s doing it so long as he does it at all.

“I feel pretty great right now, actually,” he murmurs against your lips, a hint of a smile coloring his words. “Do you want sugar in yours?”

“Um…”

Your eyes dart helplessly between his as he pulls away and you struggle to un-fluster yourself enough to answer his simple question. Spencer seems to delight in this. The longer it takes you, the bigger his perfect smile gets.

“You took too long. You’re getting sugar.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” you plead later on the couch, for the third or fourth time, setting your mostly-empty mug on the coffee table.

His eyebrows raise.

“I’m sure, honey.”

“But I want to help,” you pout, pulling your knees into your chest. Spencer regards you for a moment from the other end of the couch, before beckoning you closer wordlessly.

“You are helping,” he assures you, gently grabbing your wrist as you crawl into his lap. He rubs soothing circles into the delicate skin with his thumb. “You being here and being you is plenty.”

It’s the closest you’ve been to him since before he left, and while you’ve all but given up on asking him to sleep with you, it doesn’t mean you don’t think about it multiple times per day. It’s especially difficult to keep your thoughts PG when you haven’t seen him in a week, and his hair is all messy, and he’s got his pajamas on, and you’re in his lap, and he’s looking at you like that.

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer murmurs, likely concerned by your lack of response and the glazed-over look in your eyes. You reanimate, averting your gaze to the spot on your thigh he’s now rubbing absentmindedly.

“Nothing. I just missed you.”

“I missed you a lot, too.” You don’t even have to look up to know that his brows have twisted into a pleasant sort of bemusement, like you are a particularly complex puzzle—you can hear it as he continues speaking. “I’m still not used to having something external take up so much of my attention while I’m trying to do my job. I’ve never had that before. Not something good, anyway. It’s like every time I leave, I’m thinking about you more than the time before. And I was already thinking about you a lot.”

The corner of your mouth twitches as he rambles.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” he chuckles. “You prove to be incredibly distracting even when you’re hundreds of miles away. Do you know how many nights I almost called you before realizing it was one in the morning?”

A slow smile spreads over your face.

“Oh? Whatever could you have been calling about at one in the morning?”

You’re teasing him, and it works. He blushes adorably.

“Um… probably exactly what you’d expect. In hindsight I think it’s best that I refrained.”

“What?” You grin, incredulous, forgetting your shyness and leaning closer. “You totally should’ve. I’ve never had phone sex before. I would’ve done it.”

“No, you wouldn’t!” Spencer laughs. “It would have just been me talking to myself with you on the other line. I don’t think phone sex is really up your alley.”

“Shut up,” you laugh as your lips meet. He smiles into the kiss. Before you get too lost in it, you pull away, leaning back when he tries to follow you. “I think you’re over-complicating it. It’s just dirty talk, right? I can totally do that. It’s just, like… blah blah blah, dirty slut, something something…”

You trail off as he gives you a look. Poker faced—aside from the slightly narrowed eyes sparkling with humor.

“You want me to refer to you as a dirty slut?”

Maintaining eye contact is an uphill battle—you crack in a matter of seconds, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes stubbornly.

“No. For all you know I want to call you a dirty slut.”

It’s a ridiculous, but he recognizes the bravado for what it is, still smiling slightly as he rubs your hips.

“Right. I apologize for assuming. But just for future reference, I don’t want to be called that, and I don’t think I’d be comfortable calling you that, either.”

“But you can call me other stuff,” you remind your boyfriend, pulling back and still not looking at him.

“Yeah? Like what?”

And just like that, you’re shy again.

“I don’t know… nice things. I like when you’re nice.”

“I like being nice to you.” It’s so sincere-sounding that you meet his gaze, examining his face. His eyes are clear and soft on you, the only source of warm light on such a grey day, as his hands keep running slow lines over your sides. “Kiss?”

And how could you ever deny him anything?

As has happened before, the kiss starts out innocent enough. And it’s not that it gets particularly heated, or anything—it’s just that it doesn’t end, and after a few moments your mouth slips open and so does his and that’swhat gets both of you worked up over a period of minutes. Pressure and heat that you’re becoming accustomed to build between your legs, and you don’t even notice that you’ve begun rocking back and forth in his lap until Spencer is attempting to still your hips with patient but assertive hands.

“Honey, that’s—slow down, sweetheart.”

Finally he gets a grip on you and you realize as soon as you stop moving that there had been friction occurring—and you’re pretty damn sure you know what you were grinding against.

Your whole body feels hot with arousal and embarrassment.

“Oh my god—I’m sorry,” you mumble, moving your hands from his shoulders to cover your face. “That was an accident, I—”

“It’s fine,” Spencer assures you, squeezing your waist gently. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing because I know we haven’t… gotten there, yet.”

A moment passes—your hands fall to the FBI stitching across his chest, studying the letters without really seeing them. You haven’t gotten there yet… but why not? Why haven’t you touched him, or even seen him? You think back to the few times he’s touched you and realize that you had been too busy with either your own insecurities or pleasure to genuinely consider how it might be affecting him. He says your name gently, drawing your attention.

“You okay?”

You nod haltingly, brow furrowed as you think.

“I—yeah. I was just realizing that I haven’t, like… touched you, yet.”

It’s silent for another long second, and you glance up, to where he’s studying you with a dissonant kind of relaxed scrutiny—a knowing confidence that probably comes with a lot more experience than you have.

“Do you want to?”

Woah.

Usually you have to beg on hands and knees and prepare a slideshow presentation before he agrees to doing anything sexual in nature. He’s never so overtly invited or initiated it before. Not that you’re complaining by any stretch of the imagination.

You nod shyly, still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt.

“If you want to, I can show you how. But it’s also absolutely okay if you don’t.”

Show you how?

Your brain is melting into sludge at the idea.

“I do,” you admit, meeting his gaze again. It’s kind, and you know he really wouldn’t be upset if you said no—but now that you’ve thought about it, you feel deeply compelled to try.

“Okay. Come here, first.” You lean forward expectantly, eyes fluttering shut as his hand finds the back of your neck and he pulls you into another soft kiss. By the time your lips separate again, your head is spinning. “We’re just trying something, okay? You’re allowed to stop whenever you feel like it. Really low stakes. Got it?”

You nod, still close enough that your noses brush as you do.

“Got it.”

He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away and leaning back into the couch.

“Scoot back a little, angel.”

Wordlessly you do so, heart pounding with nervous excitement as he lifts his hips and slides his pajama pants down just enough to where he can comfortably pull himself out, and—

Your breath catches.

Now, you may be about as virginal as they come, but you weren’t born yesterday. You’ve seen porn, you’ve received unsolicited nudes—it is the 21st century. Yet never before have you thought to yourself; wow, that dick is the pinnacle of beauty. Perfect. Breathtaking. But there’s just no other way to describe him.

So that’s what hits you first—how unexpectedly pretty it is.

The size sinks in a quick second later.

You can’t tell with perfect accuracy how many inches he is, but you’re pretty damn sure he’s big. That’s meant to fit inside of you?

No, no—that’s a consideration for another day. Right now you need to stop staring like an idiot. You glance up at his face, and he’s sporting a cocky little half-smile which lets you know you’ve been caught. Motherfucker he’s so hot. It’s unnerving.

“Do you have something you’d like to say?” he asks politely, quite obviously containing his amusement. But you can’t summon a sufficiently sarcastic response.

Your voice comes so soft when you reply, “you’re pretty.”

Spencer melts, eyes impossibly softening.

“Pretty?” His smile is earnest now. He strokes your cheek and you can’t not lean into his touch.

“Mhm. I want to, um…” your lips twist to the side as you look back down, finding he’s not gotten less intimidating since you last checked. “But what if I’m bad at it?” you whisper. He chuckles, brushing hair over your shoulder.

“It’s kind of a hard thing to be bad at. And I’m gonna help you, okay?”

It’s the honesty with which he speaks to you that makes you feel so safe. There are no hidden intentions or words that seem to mean one thing but really mean another. Spencer wants you as a person more than he wants you as a body and that’s been clear since the first time he touched you. You take a deep breath.

“Okay. What do I do?”

“First, you’re gonna spit in your hand.”

You look up, alarmed.

“You want me to intentionally get my spit on you? Is that not your worst nightmare?”

“Believe it or not, I’m not super worried about yours,” he teases. “But if you’d prefer, I can spit in your hand.”

“Actually, mine is fine,” you laugh nervously.

Hesitantly, you do as instructed, even though it seems frankly bizarre.

“Good. Now just wrap your hand around it, like this.” His voice is quiet, focused as he guides your hand downward. Your heart rate ticks up again as he encourages you to wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He feels much warmer than you’d expected—his skin is silken beneath your touch but he’s undeniably hard and that sort of eliminates any sense of him being fragile from the equation.

“It’s gonna be less sensitive down here—and then, up here—” he slides your hand back up, covering your thumb with his own and swiping it just below the head of his cock on the underside. He hisses and you look up in fascination. “That’s the most sensitive part.”

Without further instruction, you do it again, keeping your touch light and watching his face for a reaction. His drawn brows twitch, furrowing deeper for a second, and his lips part. A heavy exhalation passes between them and quickly builds into a breathy laugh.

“What?” you murmur, over-eager to please and very nervous to do something wrong.

“Nothing. Just feels good, that’s all.”

“Don’t laugh,” you pout. Of course that makes him laugh again, and he leans forward to kiss your head.

“I’m laughing at myself, angel. I’m a grown man fighting for my life from a handjob that you’ve barely started. I knew it would be different with you but I didn’t realize it would be this different.”

Heat rises in your cheeks and you look away.

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“I’m not lying,” he urges, grabbing your free hand and encouraging you to uncurl your fingers. His thumb traces circles in your open palm, before capturing your entire hand in his. “Do you feel how much softer your hand is than mine?”

You frown, attempting to feel whatever it is that he’s pointing out. Despite the fact that you think he has very nice hands, you realize he’s right. By no means would you say that they’re rough, but you can tell where his gun normally sits in his hands, where his fountain pen rubs against his fingers. “Yeah.”

“Yeah. Anything you do is going to be perfect because it’s you.”

Spencer drops his hand to your leg, rubbing it soothingly. The other moves to cover yours—the one wrapped around him.

“You’re gonna help me, right?” you ask quietly. Some adventurous part of you is very excited about this as an experiment—fascinated by the reactions you’ve already gotten from him and eager to push it.

“I am. Little bit tighter, honey. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

You do as you’re told, and he’s murmuring more praise—slowly encouraging you to begin moving your hand with his own. A shaky exhale catches your attention, drawing your gaze to his face. His eyes are, of course, cast downward, but his expression is hypnotizing. Those lips remain slightly parted, and suddenly you wonder if he makes noises like you do. In that moment it becomes your life’s mission to find out.

For a while you continue letting his hand guide your movements, but he keeps things so slow for your sake that you’re getting impatient. You forgo his direction, picking up the pace but trying to keep the rhythm he’d instilled in the motion. His hand slackens around yours.

“Fuck,” he hisses to himself. The hand on your thigh rubs achingly deeper into the flesh. “Angel, what are you doing?”

“I want it to feel good.” Suddenly shy again, you slow down. His hips stutter, which you think may be a sign that it was working. “Am I—was that bad?” Spencer looses a breath, looking almost… frustrated?

“No, I’m just—I’m weirdly close to coming.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“Well,” he mutters, “not usually. Mostly it’s embarrassing.”

You giggle, a release of some tension, and begin pumping your hand again. His breath hitches and he finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes with his own lust-glazed ones. Heat pools deep between your legs.

“I want you to come,” you admit quietly as you twist your wrist, brushing that spot underneath the head of his cock again. His jaw literally drops, and a look that is part confusion, part pleasure, twists his features. You see the surprise sparkling in his eyes and it only spurs you to keep talking. “I’ve never seen how you look when you do, but I’ve imagined it. I bet you look so pretty when you come, Spencer. ‘Nd then I would know that I can make you feel good, too.”

“You… you are making me feel good,” he assures you. The way his brow furrows and his lips are parted give you a feeling that’s entirely new. Normally, you’re the one falling apart under his touch—but when it’s the other way around there’s a whole new kind of pleasure in it for you. You feel kind of powerful. Maybe even close to confident.

“Really? I’m not this quiet when you touch me.”

“I’ve ha—ah—had more practice not making noise.”

“But why?” you implore, ignoring the fact that he’s slept with other women and enjoyed the sounds they made, and opting to brush your thumb across that extra sensitive part he definitely shouldn’t have told you about. His hips buck up and he hisses, which is immensely gratifying to you.

“Because I like to listen.”

“What if I do, too?”

In a moment of divine inspiration , you cover the tip of his cock with your hand, swirling beads of pre-come over your palm. Spencer moans and his hips jut up into your grip. It’s a beautiful sound, just as you’d hoped.

“Jesus, fuck.”

You understand why he seems to enjoy touching you so much. It’s so rewarding to watch as his breathing picks up and pleasure contorts his face—to watch him get messier and messier and lose his composure a bit more with each stroke of your hand. It’s so simple but Spencer looks at you like you’re exercising some arcane deviant power over him and he’s not sure he should be enjoying it as much as he is.

Distantly you think about how it felt when he had his hands on you—and then, in clearer focus, how it felt when he went down on you. Both were perfect, but something about his lips so gentle on the most intimate, vulnerable part of you had felt like ascension. Maybe it was the emotional component, or maybe it just felt fucking good. Regardless, it seems an irresistible thought.

You keep stroking him until his head is lolling on the back of the couch as he groans.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah, baby?”

He sounds so destroyed it makes you clench around nothing. Without any indication that you’re going to do so, you stop touching him, and the speed with which he lifts his head again is almost comical. Immediately, while he’s utterly defenseless and desperate, you ask, “can I use my mouth?”

His eyes widen, and then shut, as he processes your request with a tiny shake of his head—probably trying to clear the haze of pleasure from his mind before he answers.

“Honey,” he rasps eventually, opening his eyes and smoothing a hand over your hair, “you don’t have to do that just because I do. That’s not why I do it.”

“But I want to,” you murmur, shy and mildly embarrassed by what feels almost like a soft rejection. “I don’t think I could do anything, like, mind-blowing, but… I want to try.”

Your face is hot by the end of the sentence, and you can’t meet Spencer’s eyes as his fingers twitch over your hip. A quiet moment passes—but it’s short-lived.

“Okay. Go ahead, baby.”

Wide eyes dart up to his.

“Really?”

Spencer smiles fondly, brushing an invisible speck from your cheek.

“I don’t think I’m capable of turning that offer down. Not when it’s you.”

“Okay—um, should I just—” Spencer watches on, finding your sudden enthusiasm completely adorable as you scoot off of his lap and gingerly kneel in front of him. Your eyes are big and glassy as you look up at him, hands set politely on his knees. You squint suspiciously, eyes darting between his face and his cock, now about as hard as it’s ever been due to your toying. He knows it’s probably intimidating for a girl who has never seen one in real life, and he feels kind of bad about it. You do terrible, wonderful things to him that he doesn’t understand. “Wow. So... it looks bigger from down here.”

“Please don’t try to choke yourself,” he instructs hurriedly, leaning forward slightly. “I really don’t need you to do that. It’s fine if you can’t fit it all, I just—” he exhales shakily. Spencer is most definitely strong-willed but he can’t pretend like the sight of you on your knees for him, inches from his aching cock for the first time isn’t impacting his cognition. Most importantly he doesn’t want to make you feel pressured. He’s trying to not let how badly he wants this show in case you change your mind.

Spencer watches as you psych yourself out—wilting like a thirsty flower.

“But what if I’m bad at this?” you mumble, hands curling into loose fists atop his legs. Spencer pushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears.

“What’s your worst case scenario?” he asks. Your answer is immediate.

“That I’m so bad you make me stop halfway through.”

Spencer can’t help but laugh again.

“I’m sorry—I just… honey, you are really underestimating how profound your effect is on me. I just almost came from a minute long handjob. I can assure you that I won’t make you stop halfway through because I’d rather not have your mouth on me. That is… that’s just not going to happen.”

You lean your cheek against his thigh. He might actually pass away.

“Will you tell me if I’m doing something wrong?”

“Honestly, as long as you don’t bite, you’re in the clear.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and your lips pull into an embarrassed little smile.

“Great. Thank you for that invaluable advice.”

“Of course,” he smiles. It fades slowly as you take a deep breath and look up at him, obviously steeling yourself, before leaning forward and taking him in your hand again. He watches with bated breath, repeating no sudden movements to himself over and over as your hand moves up and down a few more times and your head lowers.

You delicately, so lightly trace your tongue from the base of his swollen cock to just underneath the leaking tip, mapping a vein, and his hips buck as you take him into your mouth experimentally. Only the first few inches fit but the sight of your lips wrapped around him, the way you’re looking at him is so unbelievably erotic Spencer knows he won’t last very long.

From a purely technical perspective—he knows he’s gotten objectively better head. Still, something about the way you’re so delicate with him, so soft and timid in the way you lick and kiss and take him into your mouth has him fighting not to come already. Maybe it’s wrong, but knowing that he’s watching you do this for the first time in your life is obscenely arousing. The idea that you’ve never trusted another person this much; that you’re letting him be the one to help you navigate something as new and as important as sexuality. The more he thinks about it, though, the more he realizes: it’s not your inexperience that turns him on. It’s just you. Everything you do is so undeniably you—he recognizes your mannerisms in every tiny motion, in every glance, and it’s killing him. You’re like a dream as you look up at him with big nervous eyes, (no, really, he has had this dream) and he remembers he wants to be reassuring you—not pondering life and human connection.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, groaning and hips twitching as your cheeks hollow, wrapping his achingly hard cock in soft gentle warmth so sweetly it feels taboo. “So good, baby. So gorgeous like this.”

You whine around him, receptive as always to his obsequious praise, and he notices the way your hips wiggle as you seek friction. God, you must like this a lot. Spencer gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, resting his hand on your head as you begin to bob it. That, he wasn’t prepared for. He’d have been satisfied with just kitten-licks and suckling but he won’t complain about this. It’s slow, and so intentional as you keep watching him for feedback cues. Ever his observant girl, you’re constantly paying attention. Aware of his reactions. He needs to keep telling you you’re good or else you’ll assume you’re terrible.

“Over-achiever,” he whispers through a little smile as you down even more of him.

Spencer is for the most part a kind and gentle person. For better or worse he is also a man, and he can’t help but fantasize about getting you all teary and drooly as he holds your mouth open and sees how much of his cock he can push down your throat. But again—kind. Gentle. So when you get a little over-zealous, attempting to sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure, he pulls your head back slightly. “That’s far enough, angel. That’s—fuck. God, you’re good at this.” The words are thoughtless, muttered to himself more than you as he watches through a haze while you look up at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, slipping him in and out of your warm mouth, a little faster now as you gain confidence.

You whine desperately around him, like you’re the one nearing orgasm and not him. The sound of your pleasure as you suck his cock makes him dizzy. His hips buck, pressing him a little deeper into your mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he exhales. “Slow down, baby. I’m—” a louder moan from him like you’ve never heard as he thrusts shallowly turns you on profoundly. He’s so much more vocal than you’d have imagined—sonically and verbally. He breathes out a quick, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” pulling your hair slightly, and you’ve never wanted to touch yourself more but you know you can’t focus on both. Instead you work on making him come—you can worry about you later. He says your name, with an authoritative edge to his tone that makes you throb. “Honey, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna come—”

You swirl your tongue around the top of him like candy and he’s done for. Spencer tries to pull out, which only results in cum both in your mouth and on your face. The orgasm is his strongest in recent memory, and he grunts, watching your lips part and a little squeak escape as he comes all over your face—but you keep stroking him all the while. Once he’s 90% sure it’s over, he falls against the back of the couch, breathing heavily and looking down at you through hazy eyes. Oh, he’s going to feel terrible about this in a few seconds—but right now you look fucking perfect. Your eyes are wide, nervous as his essence drips over your face and down your neck—he groans when you swallow cautiously, averting his eyes to the ceiling lest he do another thing he regrets.

“Baby, I am so sorry,” he mutters, forcibly clearing the haze of orgasm from his mind and sitting up, fixing his pants and looking around before locating the box of tissues on the side table. “I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look up at him attentively as he wipes himself from your face as gently as he can.

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t ask you first. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Spencer guides your head around by your chin, wiping your jaw and lips.

“It’s okay, Spence, I—”

“No, it’s not,” he cuts you off, trying to at least turn his guilt into a learning experience for you. He’s not deluded enough to think someone like you will stay with someone like him forever, because sometimes he does things like that, and he’s reminded that there are certainly people out there more deserving of you. At the very least he can clarify that nobody should ever do what he just did to you. “It’s really not nice to do that to someone.”

“Do you care what I think at all?”

Spencer freezes, finally forcing himself to look you in the eye. Despite the fact that he’s mad at himself, he’s sure it’s coming across as being directed at you. And he knows you’re sensitive, especially about this kind of thing.

“Of course, I do, baby. I’m sorry. Do you want to come back up here with me and tell me what you’re thinking?” he murmurs, cupping your jaw. Hesitantly you nod. The tissues end up on the table—which he will be thoroughlywiping down later—before you crawl back into his lap from the floor. Spencer helps you settle against him, hoping he hasn’t messed this up irreversibly. He keeps his voice quiet as he rubs your leg. “What were you going to say?”

“I was going to say,” you begin, “that it’s fine, because you’ll remember to ask next time. And because… I kind of liked it. I like when—when you do stuff like that.”

It’s a miracle he can hear you with the way your voice drops into an almost-whisper and you’re hiding against his shirt.

“Like what?” he murmurs. Although he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle the answer.

“Like… I don’t know. Like you can do whatever you want to me. Like I’m literally yours.” Each word makes you cringe further, but Spencer has to try hard to maintain a cool facade as he processes this. If he’s going to try and be chivalrous, you’ll have to move away from this topic—this revelation—immediately. Thankfully, you seem eager to move on. “So… how did I do?”

He almost laughs. It seems exceedingly obvious how you did, but as per usual, you require verbal reassurance.

“That was really good, baby. You did well.”

You blossom.

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie.”

“Was I the best girl out of all of the other girls?”

I wasn’t in love with any of the other girls.

Just barely, he manages to stop himself from saying it, pinwheeling his arms on the edge of a very steep verbal cliff. The realization that he’s been in love with you for a while hits him like a truck. But he can’t tell you that right now. He should wait until you’re less vulnerable.

Fuck.

He really wants to tell you right now.

“Actually—don’t answer that,” you decide, while all of this happens in his head in less than a few seconds. “I want to go back to pretending I’m the only girl you’ve ever seen in your life.”

“You’re the only one that matters,” he offers, relieved to express at least some portion of the much bigger truth. Then he frowns. “Not that the other women I’ve met don’t lead important lives. I actually know a lot of incredibly influential and intelligent people who are women. I have deep respect for all of them. Am I helping or making it worse?” he rambles. You giggle. He has his answer. “What about you? How do you feel?” he asks after a moment, tenderly, lowly, stroking your hair as you lean against his chest.

It takes you a moment to deliberate, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt.

“I feel good. I, um… liked it a lot more than I would have thought.”

“Well, that’s good. Much better than if you had hated every second of it.”

You hum in agreement, and he waits for you to say whatever you’re holding back. It comes sooner than he’d have anticipated.

“I feel bad about the times before. How did you just… go to sleep after? Were you not, like—insanely turned on? Not that I’m, like, irresistibly sexy, or whatever—you know what I mean.”

Spencer smiles because he knows you can’t see him.

“I wasn’t doing it to pressure you into feeling obligated to reciprocate, I guess. My line of reasoning was that it would be less intimidating if I didn’t even present it as an option until you wanted to try.”

“Oh.”

Spencer thinks he sees where this is going.

“Why?” he asks, leaning back and encouraging you to look at him. “Are you insanely turned on?”

“Wh—that’s—I didn’t say that!”

Spencer can feel how warm your cheeks are as he presses his lips to the side of your face.

“You can tell me if you are,” he murmurs, all smiley as he moves to kiss your lips. “If you want something, you need to ask for it. I’m not a mind reader.”

“Yes you are,” you grumble. “That’s literally what behavioral analysis is.”

Not quite true, but surprisingly, he doesn’t feel the need to explain to you the semantics of what he does for work right now.

“What got you all excited?”

“You know what,” you mumble, trying to look away again. Spencer doesn’t allow it this time, gently grabbing your jaw.

“Yes, I do. But I want you to tell me. If you want me to make you feel good, this is how you’re going to convince me that you deserve it.”

You whine wordlessly, looking at him with those big, lust-glazed eyes.

“You wanted me to teach you how to use your words, right? This is it. I’m giving you an opportunity. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. Maybe we can take a nap, like you said earlier.”

“No! I liked—um, I liked all of it. I didn’t know if I would, because I was really nervous. But when I first—you know—and you got all quiet… it was like you couldn’t even talk for a minute. I was kind of proud of that. Because normally nobody can ever get you to stop talking.” Spencer narrows his eyes incredulously, a small smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t interrupt—not when it seems you’re finally starting to get more confident in your words. “And I really liked the noises you made. I think that was my favorite part. I liked when you pulled my hair back, and how you spoke to me. And when… when you got me messy and I had to swallow it. I really liked how it felt because I couldn’t think of anything else, just making you feel good. I really wanted to… make you proud, I guess. Is that weird?”

Spencer shakes his head no, a fond smile on his face when your eyes meet his again.

“No. It’s a pretty normal thing to feel when you’re nervous and wanting to impress someone you care about. And I would have been proud no matter what, for the record. You were being very brave.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, watching him expectantly. Spencer should have known you’re too needy to truly absorb anything he says to you right now. Which is actually pretty cute. Everything you do is endearing to him.

“Stand up.”

You frown.

“But—”

“Just stand up,” he demands calmly, preferring to think of himself as firm and not bossy.

You do, looking rather annoyed and confused as you plant yourself in front of him.

“Why?”

“You are so full of questions.” His hands slip up the side of your legs, under your skirt, and hook in the waistband of your underwear. Spencer looks up at you meaningfully and you nod, swallowing.

As he pulls down, Spencer can literally feel the resistance of the fabric clinging to your soaked core. Under his touch the skin of your thighs is warm and soft. He wants to feel it on either side of his face, he wants to hear you whine as his stubble rubs against it, he wants to feel it clamp around his wrist, he wants it between his teeth and he definitely wants it pressing against his hips as he—

But no.

There will be time for all of those things—especially the last one—later. For now, he’ll reach between your legs just to see—

“Oh, my god,” Spencer half-chuckles, half-groans, upon feeling how wet you truly are for him. He drags his knuckles from your dripping entrance up over your clit, pinching very lightly and earning a squeak from you which he ignores. “You really did like having your mouth full of me, huh?”

“I told you,” you breathe, visibly relaxing some as he continues to play with you for a moment. Then he pulls his hand away again, patting his thigh.

“Sit.”

“You want me to…”

“Yes,” he says, simply.

“But is it not going to… am I not going to mess up your pants?”

“You are even more neurotic about messiness than I am. I can wash them, honey. Come here.”

Spencer guides your hips over his thigh, watching your pretty face twist with uncertainty as you fully settle on him. Fuck, he can feel your warmth through the fabric instantly. Already he’s getting hard again.

“What am I supposed to do?” you whisper, bunching his shirt in your fists. Spencer slides your skirt up higher, revealing the way you’re nestled against his thigh. He spreads you a little further apart, exposing more of your clit to the material underneath you. Immediately you press against him—he watches the delicate flesh rubbing gingerly against him and his grip tightens ever so slightly.

“All you have to do is rock back and forth. It’s easy.”

Already you’re starting to do it—but he guesses it’s like earlier where you don’t even realize it’s happening.

“But… I wanted your mouth,” you admit, quietly, slinging your arms around his neck and burying your face there.

“Do this for me first. Just get yourself off like this one time and then you can have my mouth. You said you wanted to help me feel better because I’m tired today, right?

“Yes,” you mumble, squirming over him.

“Well, there are a lot of days when I get back home and I’m tired. I’m gonna need you to be able to get on top of me, just like this, and make me feel better. And I know you don’t know what it feels like to have something that deep inside of you yet, but it’s gonna be a lot. Even once you know how it feels to have me inside when you’re underneath me. I need you to practice for me right now so you’ll be ready, okay?”

You could come from the words alone. You nod, dazed with need as you roll your hips in a circle, pressing his thigh against your clit.

“Back and forth, baby,” he murmurs, guiding your hips forward with his hands locked around them. “Back and forth, just like this…”

You moan quietly, shamelessly, eyes fluttering as you look down and watch your clit dragging over the darkening fabric. It’s easier if you isolate your hips, grinding down without moving your legs or upper body at all.

“It feels really good,” you whisper under your quickening breath.

“Yeah? Does it?”

“Mhm.”

“Good, angel. You look like you know what you’re doing.”

It’s audible now, quiet and wet and dirty.

“I don’t,” you breathe. He sucks in a breath of his own, stilling your hips with fingers pressed deep into your flesh.

“Sit up, baby.” You really wish he would stop making you stop, but you don’t want to keep going in case he needs you to quit—so you rise slowly, thighs trembling as you kneel. Spencer groans at the strings of your arousal momentarily connecting your core to his pants before they snap, getting your inner thighs wet. There’s a dark, very wet patch over his thigh, shining like glass. He thumbs over your slick clit absentmindedly as he looks up at you like you’re a miracle. “You’re fucking soaked. I’ve never seen you like this. Is this all from making me come?”

You nod feverishly, hips grinding against nothing in search of friction. He sits you back down on his leg, allowing you to sloppily find your rhythm again. Spencer bounces his leg lightly and you cry out softly, buckling forward. His arms wrap around you, still pressing you down against his thigh as you rut against it.

“You’re sweet. Maybe I should have known how much you’d like it when I came all over your pretty face. You really like hearing that you did a good job, huh? I bet you like it even more when I prove it to you.”

You moan a “yeah,” barely processing his words.

“My good girl even swallowed on her first try. Took it so well. And now look at how you’re taking this. You’re gonna love riding, baby. Just going to be another thing you’re good at as soon as you try it.”

“Spencer,” you gasp, overwhelmed by the praise. He’s bouncing his leg at regular intervals and everything is so sensitive.

“I know it’s harder to finish this way, but just one time, remember? And then you can have my tongue for as long as you want. You are my only plan for the day. Just give me one like this.”

But it’s not really harder to finish this way. Then again, you’re so turned on you could probably finish if a breeze hit you just right. Regardless, the thought of him going down on you again pushes you even closer to the edge.

You don’t know how much time goes by like that, you rubbing against him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, him pressing up into you until the pressure is so taut it snaps. There’s no time to warn him, but you suppose you don’t really need to. You writhe against him, caught between wanting to keep going and not being able to take more stimulation. He lifts you up just slightly, trying to separate you from his leg. You exhale deeply as your body relaxes, already close to dozing off against his chest.

“We can’t have you tapping out just yet. I still have to fulfill my end of the deal.”

In the end, he fulfills it three times over, and you end up showing your appreciation in kind one more time—much slower and more comfortably in his bed. He gives you plenty of time to learn what he likes, taking your teasing and coquettish explorations like a champ and never so much as tightening his grip in your hair. Turns out, you don't exactly spend the day doing nothing.

And you do end up taking that nap after all. Just... much, much later. And with less clothing on.

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

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xiao-come-home · 1 month

Text

Boothill relationship headcanons;

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✰ Characters: Boothill x reader.

✰ Words: ~1k.

✰ SFW+N//SFW ; SFW mentions no pronouns or gender of the reader. N//SFW section was written with fem!reader in mind.

Warnings: THIS HAS A NSFW PART. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS skip this section if possible. some of these hc are based on this post, since i wanted to write a little more about it.

A/N: BRAINROT gRR he truly gives me doctor by Miley Cyrus vibes. idk how to explain it but take it

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Boothill:

SFW

he's such a gentleman! opens doors for you, pulls out a chair, kisses your hand when he sees you first for the day, it doesn't get boring for him at all. if you ignore some of his unhinged behaviors, then he's a perfect man.

like i mentioned in my previous post, he's VERY possessive of you. he does like to go to unknown clubs or bars with you to try out their best drinks in his spare time, though he doesn't have you attached to his hip (even.. if he wouldn't probably mind at all), he does keep a sharp eye on you. if a weird guy approaches you and you're clearly uncomfortable, he tries to intimidate the guy away and clearly let him see that you're his (aka placing his arm around your waist and pushing you into him), if being polite doesn't work, well, they have a rough night. not in a good way.

this man SCREAMS BACK HUGS!! since his body is like 90% metal and machines, he loves to embrace you from behind and wrap his arms around your tummy, while his chin rests on your shoulder. he misses the softness of his own skin, so having you gives him a lot of comfort; the warmth you're radiating makes him reluctant to ever pull away. boothill often finds himself touching his cheeks with his robotic arms, when they get warm enough - the feeling almost long forgotten in his mind.

speaking of back hugs: he's also very big on neck kisses, mostly giving than receiving, depending on how he feels, they're either very innocent and loving - very soft, paired with butterfly kisses, or biting you and then kissing it better, when things get steamy.

boothil finds it funny when his hair tickles you when he hugs you from behind. if he's feeling particularly like a little shit that day, he can annoy you the entire day like that, only to respond with "hmm? what do you mean? I'm not doing anything, baby!" ...don't tell him his smirk gives it away, but honestly, at this point, he probably doesn't try to hide it that well.

he DOES slap your ass when you go past him. EVERY time. it doesn't get boring for him, he likes the sound it makes AND how soft it is, bonus if it jiggles, then he's even more proud. he might offer "an apologetic massage," which you rarely agree to (but he'll try until u say yes).

if someone ever tinkers with his Synesthesia beacon, he cannot swear for his life. you might catch him trying to cook, spilling something, and then hearing loud "YOU LITTLE DAISY FLOWER! CUTIE PIE! CURSED FROG!" it's kinda impressive how colorful they can get...

speaking of his voice, he's probably able to manipulate it so it sounds the best according to your taste. although his flesh heart has been gone for so long, he still feels that familiar, warm feeling and squeeze of his own, mechanical one, when your answer is always the same - to modulate it so it sounds the closest to what it used to be, or that the current one is just as pleasant to hear.

he likes to kiss you. no matter where, or when. if he wants to, he'll get one, pressing you against him, cupping your face with one hand, and kissing your puckered lips. once you give in, he kisses you properly, caressing your cheek ever so slightly to ease any discomfort left, only to hold you tightly on your hips and whimper on purpose just to tease you more (i believe in boothill is a little shit theory).

if we assume his face is the only human part of him left (besides his eyes). In that case, he just truly loves the softness of your lips on his. he kisses you as much as he can, and will get all fussy and whiny if he doesn't get his good morning kiss, we-see-each-other-for-the-first-time-today kiss (note: this is not the same as good morning kiss), goodnight kiss and so on. yes, he could get it by himself, but he wants it from you first. he's just very stubborn.

watch out! he likes to draw blood on your lower lip when his intrusive thoughts win. he licks the blood off later, and gives it a loving kiss.

his hair is genuine, so he loves whenever you play with it, brush it, or take care of it in general. it's probably one of the very few human features of his, so if your boothill lets you carefully pamper it, let alone without flooding his cords, he's not only very impressed, but also very willing to indulge in more sessions.

finds it absolutely adorable when you wear his hat when he isn't looking. or, well, when you think he isn't looking.

N/SFW. minors and ageless blogs shoo!

the council has decided that he has a vibrator in place of his real junk. but if you're into experimenting and want him to feel a bit more, hm, natural - he's more than happy to change his parts. shape, size and pace - everything for his lady.

you can probably guess, but that's an absolute ass man. he sees you in tighter pants that hug you just so nicely and might go feral.

eats pussy like a starved man. he has no shame and licks, sucks, and fucks you with his tongue and THE SOUNDS could put the devil himself to shame. boothill always wants everyone to know that you're his, how you scream and moan for him, so in return - he never lets a drop of your juices go to waste, slurping and moaning into your slit.

he's literally so flexible, that he'll fuck you in every position you want him to. if it means he'll get deeper, he's on board. and probably on top of you too.

likes to grope you through your clothes. sounds very tame, but it really gets him going, and might sometimes cause trouble in public.. unless you WANT that trouble.

adding to the headcanon above - he truly just gets turned on by your skin, especially imperfections. stretch marks? he'll kiss them all, scars? he has them all memorized. when he touches you through your clothes, he already remembers what is where, it's like he's edging himself knowing that soon enough he'll undress you completely and see it clearly; he quite literally worships what truly makes you... you.

he. is. so. SO over when you pull on his hair. when you make out, when he fucks you - doesn't matter. DO IT and he'll go absolutely crazy, hissing in pleasure and grinding into you.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #boothill #boothill hsr #boothill x reader #.headcanon #oops #gif by @/freyito!!

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mysicklove · 3 months

Text

CW: Aged up character, sub! Yuuji Itadori, dom! gn! reader, mentions of cock rings/cock cages, heavy orgasm control, reader likes to mess with poor yuuji, dacryphilia, fingers in mouth

WC: 1.2k

A/N: i made this to (hopefully) get out of my writers slump. idk. it was fun to write tho LOL. i neeeeed to work on my WIPs tho.

"Oh Yuuji, I'm disappointed."

His eyes widen at the tone of your voice, soft and defeated, like you truly were upset with him. The idea makes his mouth go dry, and he bites his lip to hold back his tears.

"I-It was an accident, I swear!" he stammers, clinging onto your arm to hopefully convey how panicked he seemed to be. Even an ounce of disapproval from you made him want to sing apologies, and the way you were frowning at him made him sick to his stomach.

You brush his cheek, and he tries to nuzzle into it, but you pull it away before he can, earning a pitiful whimper from the pink-haired boy. He tries to chase your hand, but you give him a warning glare, and he backs down immediately. “You weren’t supposed to cum. I told you no.”

“Imsorryimsorryimsorry!” Yuuji yelps, gripping at his boxers as tears begin to threaten to fall. “I got too excited. It felt too good. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to disappoint you!”

You shake your head at him, pulling away from him. “I don’t like playing with boys who don’t listen.”

The noise that falls from his mouth is pitiful, and even you flinch at the sound. His only goal was to please you, and hearing your words made his heart throb. “No, no, no,” he pleads, “I-I’ll be good again! I’ll listen this time!”

You were sadistic, and he knew you were, so when he saw you smile, more tears cascaded down his face. Alas, you wipe them away and say, "I don't believe you. Do I need to put your ring on again?"

Yuuji hates his cock ring. It was his second least favorite toy you have bought for him. Not being able to cum was one of the most frustrating feelings, especially when he always had so much of it to give.

"No. No I-I dont need my ring," he begs, pawing at your arm. His body was caving over himself, and at this point he was borderline clinging to you, shoving his face into your neck. It was an act to look smaller, more pathetic, and if hopes that he looks meek enough you may take pity on him. "I'll do good this time."

It works, surprisingly enough - you rub the back of his hair and trace his back muscles. He slumps in your hold, knowing well what the affectionate touches meant. Slowly, you move away the arm on his back to his groin, where his cock is already half-hard again.

"You won't cum until I allow you to, yes?"

"Yes," he breathes, relief washing over him at the fact that he isn't going to be punished. "I won't. I promise I won't this time."

Your tongue drags over his neck, and he shivers, eyes shutting and letting out a small gasp. Then, you begin your movements on his cock, sliding your nearly closed palm up and down. His previous cum acts as makeshift lube, and almost instantaneously he grows hard again. It makes you grin at him. "You are quite eager, aren't you, Yuuji?"

"S-Sorry. I just...like it. A lot..." he breathes, squeezing his eyes shut as his mouth drops open.

You lean forward to kiss the scar beneath his right eye, and he lets out a small breathless moan at the soft touch of your lips. "What do you like a lot?"

Yuuji, in return, gulps, flushing a shade of red. He looks at the hand pumping his cock, watching the way your thumb rubs at his plush tip as if daring him to cum again. But still, he manages to respond. "Um-When you touch my...c-cock."

The word was always so embarrassing to him, so lewd sounding. But it was the way you wanted him to refer to it, so he abided by the term that made him feel like he was straight out of a porno.

"That's it," you praise, tilting his head to plant another soft kiss on his mouth. "Will you cum then?"

Yuuji knows better by now, and so he rapidly shakes his head. "No. Not until you allow me to."

He was speaking in between kisses, eyes closed and leaning as close to you as possible.

"And what if you are to wait a week to cum? Make you get out your cage as punishment."

The man's entire body goes rigid, and he quickly pulls away from your mouth, eyes owlish. The hand moves away from the spot between his legs, and he clenches his fists to restrain the urge to force it back.

He seems to be at a loss for words, biting the inside of his cheek and furrowing his eyebrows. A fresh new set of tears slides down his face, but he is quick to wipe them off with the back of his hand.

Although the cockring was torture in the moment, chastity was by far the hardest thing for Yuuji to do. He had a high sex drive, and even going a week without cumming sounded torturous. The longest he has gone is four days without an orgasm, and he was practically pawing at your feet like some sort of attention-starved puppy to get you to touch him.

To trick him into thinking he was going to get another orgasm was cruel, and he was incredibly frustrated. His cock was so hard it was borderline painful, and knowing that he was not going to be granted a release made him unreasonably upset.

But he did disobey you, and you were known to be cruel to him. He looks at your knees and bites his lip. The words come out in a low whisper as if he were almost afraid of them. "I'll go grab m-my cage."

Yuuji begins to pull away from you, heading to the closet to where the devilish toy is located, when suddenly a hand grips the back of his hair and pulls him back to you. His lips forcefully lock onto yours, and immediately your tongue slides into his mouth. He gets so distracted by the suddenness of it all that when he feels the hand back on his cock he lets out a guttural moan that is swallowed by your mouth.

And then you pull away from him, leaving him hazy-eyed and breathless as you lick at the saliva coating your lips. Your other hand thumbs at his lips, and you grin at him, leaning forward. "You're such a good boy, Yuuji. Makes me want to tease you till you run out of tears."

Your thumb has made its way into his mouth, and it presses onto his tongue. The only noise he can make is a low whine, not liking that idea at all but not daring to try to speak with your finger pressed inside his mouth.

But then, much to the boys suprise, you lean forward till you are inches away from his ear and mutter, "You have my permission to cum whenever you like."

And just like a kid in a candy store, Yuuji's eyes lighten.

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babydollmarauders · 9 days

Text

WHO’S AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME? — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which jack hughes should be afraid of what y/n can do to his reputation

notes: yeah, idk what this is either; there’s not much plot.

september 16th, 2023

deuxmoi

24,107 likes

deuxmoi pop sensation, y/n, is seen hands on with new boy toy?

if anyone has any information on who this man is, do come forward! we’d love to know who america’s queen of heartbreak anthems is with now!

view all 549 comments

user82 the hand placement?! HELLO?!

user3 oh great, new music where she makes herself some sad victim again

user55 a new love album next?! maybe?!

user09 let’s not get ahead of ourselves, it’s some low grade pap photos posted on a gossip blog. it could’ve been a first date for all we know

user45 @/user09 with the way they are in these pics? absolutely NOT a first date. y/n has famously said she doesn’t get “frisky” early on because of her ex. most definitely a bf

user92 oh her next song is gonna HIT

user06 that guy kinda looks…. where were these taken and when?

deuxmoi all the sender said was that they saw them in michigan last night! know something?

user06 hmm the tl matches! that looks like it could be @/jackhughes , a hockey player for the New Jersey Devils!

user98 OH MY GOD, YOU’RE RIGHT!

user67 those hands?! girlie better never let him go!

september 27th, 2023

y/nofficial

liked by sabrinacarpenter and 4,628,961 others

y/nofficial every dead end street led you straight to me 🤍

view all 7,923 comments

user72 SOFT LAUNCH OH MY GOD

user5 oh he’s got her using emojis?! she’s down BAD

user29 i’m so happy for her, she deserves so much love and happiness and it seems like he gives that to her 🫶

user6 MOTHER?!

user01 what poor boy did she sink her claws into this time?

user9 if you don’t like her, why are you on her post? obsessed much?

sabrinacarpenter he scored 😉

y/nofficial sab!! nah, i think i did!

user92 he better be treating her damn good! it’s what she deserves after ‘he who shall not be named’!

user76 i know who you meant but also started giggling at the idea of her writing an album about voldemort 😭

y/nofficial @/user76 gasp! don’t you know who lover is about?! the dark lord and i just couldn’t make it work :(

october 10th, 2023

jackhughes

liked by y/nofficial, nicohischier, and 815,736 others

jackhughes as a wise woman once said: “i was enchanted to meet you”

tagged y/nofficial

view all 2,865 comments

y/nofficial my sweet boy 🤍

jackhughes my pretty girl

user76 A HARD LAUNCH

user94 THEY’RE SO SICKENINGLY CUTE 😭 SHE DESERVES THIS

user36 JACK IS DATING Y/N?! OH THE SONGS THAT WILL COME OUT OF THIS

user8 he could do so much better

lhughes_06 about damn time

trevorzegras JACK WHAT THE FUCK YOU’RE JOKING

user02 oh they’re so cute 🥹

dawson1417 did you just… hard launch with the biggest singer in america rn?

jackhughes y/n says “what? like it’s hard?” idk what that means

user16 can we talk about how happy she looks?! and i know her hockey loving self is giggling and kicking her feet over her landing a hockey player! too cute!!

john.marino97 if her next RED-like album is about you, i’m requesting a trade. can’t believe i’m gonna have to listen to songs about YOU

january 1st, 2024

y/nofficial

liked by jackhughes and 5,827,025 others

y/nofficial thank you 2023, you brought so much love and laughter 🤍 can’t wait to see what 2024 brings!

tagged jackhughes

view all 7,503 comments

user86 oh she’s so down bad she was taking pics of him at his game 😭

user9 one tour pic and three pics regarding to jack? she’s so in love

jackhughes here’s to another year with you, my talented girl

y/nofficial i can’t wait for another year with you, my love 🤍

user55 i can’t wait to see you in KC this year!!

user7 she’s truly living her best life and i’m obsessed!!

user21 i hope 2024 is just as good to you as 2023 was!

january 26th, 2024

deuxmoi

36,592 likes

deuxmoi fan submission: trouble in paradise?

pop sensation, y/n, and her boyfriend, hockey player Jack Hughes, were seen out by a fan last night. the fan claims that they overheard y/n consoling Jack about his recent injury that has left him unable to play. in the video (on our site), you can hear y/n telling Jack “i know not playing is hard, i know it’s sad-”. Jack is heard cutting her off and snapping “you don’t get to tell me about sad. you don’t get it, so stop acting like you do.”according to the fan, y/n left the date alone and in tears.

what do you guys think, is this couple over?

view all 1,251 comments

user29 wow what an asshole, she was just trying to be comforting

user4 wtf?

user07 yeah, can’t say i didn’t expect them to end soon enough

user99 she was trying to comfort him and he snapped at her? yeah, i’d hope they’re over

user20 she deserves better

user19 it’s just an argument, everyone is being so overdramatic

user3 do i think they’re over? no. if we know anything about y/n, it’s that she’s forgiving, sometimes to a fault.

user67 i don’t think they’re broken up but if she was leaving alone and crying, i hope they will be soon enough

user82 has anyone thought that maybe he didn’t need comforting?

user13 umm, obviously he did if he snapped at her

user98 idk about everyone else, but i do think they’re broken up if she left alone and was visibly upset

user23 oh i can’t wait to hear what she writes about him. i’ve known he seemed too good to be true

february 14th, 2024

y/nofficial

liked by oliviarodrigo and 7,431,846 others

y/nofficial happy valentines to my favorite boy 🤍

the most kind-hearted, respectful, and loving man i’ve ever had the pleasure of being able to call mine. nobody is perfect, but i think you’re pretty close to it. i’m so eternally grateful to have you in my life 🤍

tagged jackhughes

view all 278 comments

user6 oh, she’s still with him

user02 y/n, baby, please come to your senses

user14 i don’t like him at all after last month

jackhughes happy valentines, beautiful girl ❤️

user65 “nobody is perfect” oh, mother is telling us rn

comments on this post are now limited

march 23rd, 2024

deuxmoi

29,783 likes

deuxmoi looks like y/n and her hockey beau have called it quits! eagle eyed fans spotted last night that they’ve unfollowed each other on instagram and y/n deleted all photos of him.

previously, y/n ONLY followed jack, now she’s back down to 0, which fans seem to read as a finality to their relationship.

view all 1,736 comments

user95 about time! after that spat in january, i feel like everyone was waiting for this

user72 EVERYONE MOVE! EVERYONE REJOICE! MOTHER IS FREE!

user24 GOOD RIDDANCE!!

user61 can’t wait to hear who the catalyst was, him or her?

user3 obviously she’ll make herself out to be the victim

user61 @/user3 tell me you’ve never actually listened to y/n without telling me you’ve never actually listened to y/n 🙄 she doesn’t shy away from admitting if she was the one who ruined a relationship, she admits she has problems and that sometimes she gets in her own head

user8 it was obviously him after that video in january

user23 everyone is celebrating but have we stopped for a second to realize that she’s probably really heart broken right now?

user70 fr! like, she seemed so in love with him and i feel so bad for her. she seemed to love him a lot more than her exes and we all know she’s a hopeless romantic at heart, so she was probably imagining marriage and babies with him and then he showed his true colors

april 1st, 2024

y/nofficial

liked by tatemcrae and 14,698,276 others

y/nofficial there’s always a fool, but i guess all’s fair in love and poetry… new album THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT. out May 14 🩶

but surprise! the first and only single, Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? comes out April 19 🩶

view all 3,279 comments

user18 MOTHER DOES NOT PLAY!!! AHHH

user63 may 14th 💀 she said “i’m not fucking around, y’all WILL know who this is about.”

user9 significance of may 14th?

user63 @/user9 it’s jack’s birthday 💀

user00 OH SHE MUST REALLY HAVE SOME SHIT TO SAY IF SHE’S ACTUALLY DROPPING A SINGLE BEFORE THE ALBUM

user78 i wonder if jack feels stupid yet

user12 new y/n album before GTA6

user93 the vibes??? mother didn’t write an album, she wrote a EULOGY

april 19th, 2024

y/nofficial

liked by john.marino97 and 9,726,820 others

y/nofficial at this hearing, i stand before my fellow members of The Tortured Poets Department with a summary of my findings.

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? out now.

view all 2,738 comments

user72 i’m speechless

user2 “you don’t get to tell me about sad” SHE REALLY FUCKING DID THAT

user33 I AM IN SHOCK!

user94 MOTHER CALLED HIM OUT

user78 once again i ask, @/jackhughes do you feel stupid yet?

user61 dude just got surgery and she still came for his neck 😭

user09 i mean, not like she was gonna change the release date just because of that but it’s still so 😭

user22 “the scandal was contained….. at all costs keep your good name” she really spoke on the january spat, didn’t she?

user12 “WHO’S AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME?”

user77 @/jackhughes you should be

john.marino97 🩶🩶

user82 oh he’s MESSY! i love it 💀

user50 tbh, i look at this single like a warning. it sounds like jack didn’t think it through before he broke her heart and didn’t think she would speak on him, but she’s warning him right now that he should be scared because she has a lot to say about him and their relationship

user31 she’s so— i love her

february 8th, 2025

y/nofficial posted on their story

february 10th, 2025

y/nofficial

liked by john.marino97 and 11,762,936 others

y/nofficial brand new, full throttle <3

view all 3,627 comments

user93 i- did she just inadvertently tell us we’ve all been wrong about who So High School is about?

user77 this is the fastest she’s ever gotten into a new relationship and you know that means she has to be in LOVE

user04 AHHHHH Y/N AND JOHN MARINO

user82 how do you know it’s him? she didn’t even tag anyone and you can’t see his face

user04 @/user82 she posted john on her story a couple days ago! they’re on vacation together while he’s on bye-week!

user23 i don’t wanna get ahead of myself but,,, they met through jack, did they not? and now they’re dating? mother is messy

user51 is it messy? yeah, maybe- but people have already looked back through old interviews of his, and she’s been his celeb crush for a WHILE now. and i mean, hey, she’s dating someone only a couple years older than her now, one can only assume he’s more mature than j*ck

user92 the way she clings onto him 🥹

user88 she deserves happiness, i really hope he gives that to her 🫶

john.marino97 i knew what i wanted and i got her ♥️

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #nhl insta edit #nhl imagine #nhl fic #faithlynn’s writings <3 #faithlynn’s insta edits <3

566 notes · View notes

eustasskidagenda · 6 months

Note

can i request headcanons of what the monster trio+Usopp and Law think of Goth reader who wears all black, has tattoos and piercings, and loves horror ?? and who would like goths the most?? and idk how but could u mix a little nsfw with this if possible?? thank u!!

Yes, sure thing, here we go with some headcanons ! I didn't add nsfw for Luffy because I do not write smut for him. But for the others, there's a bit of nsfw at the end. Hope it meets your expectations, thank you for requesting :D

☆Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp & Law with a goth s/o

CW : g/n reader, MDNI, both sfw and nsfw, mention of alcohol for Zoro, mention of bullets for law, mention of blood and murder still for law (he’s talking about a horror movie)

WC : 2,4K

Luffy

Luffy's open-mindedness and curiosity would lead him to ask many questions about your style. He finds it cool.

"When did you discover this lifestyle?", "What's the meaning of your tattoo?", "What's your fav piercing?"

At random times, he would touch your tattoos and then, questions time again, "Is it really in your skin? Can you take showers with them, it doesn't fade? Oh wait, look, I can slide my finger into your earring gauge. All those piercings, woh, you must have a lot of holes."

He's so innocent, help.

Of course, he would love to try some goth clothes or to wear make-up just like you. Good luck, he's an incompetent model. Always fidgeting. He is unable to remain still. He would be quite annoying. You would clearly have a lot of struggles to draw a beautiful eyeliner on his over-smiling face.

And you know, those scenes where he's imitating Sanji or Chopper? He would imitate you. Not to make fun of you, just because Luffy loves that kind of imitation.

He believes that his full black outfit and stunning eye-liner make him look really cool. He would be so proud to show the good job you made on him to everyone.

Even while sleeping, he would keep his make-up on. He doesn't know that make-up needs to be removed.

If you want to watch a horror movie, he may freak out because it was really scary or he may laugh heartily because it was quite funny. Especially in a slasher movie. He thinks that the characters' terrible decisions are amusing. "That was hilarious!"

He would love to trace your tattoos with his fingers. Luffy is fond of physical touch with his loved ones, so yes, his hands would be glued to your tattoos all the time.

"Hey, Y/N, I have an idea for your next tattoo!" While showing you a really ugly drawing. This guy can't even draw a proper circle so a full tattoo…

He wants to see it on your body now, so good luck.

Zoro

CW : slight roux sex, oral sex (Zoro receiving), slight dacryphilia

Zoro is so oblivious and stoic that he doesn't care much about anything. He's not into fashion or trends; the only thing he's truly interested in is saké and training. He would not really care about what you're wearing, like he doesn't even know it's called gothic. For him, it's just black clothes, make up, tattoos and piercings. It's fine as long as you enjoy your outfit.

"Ugh, it's called goth… I thought it was just black clothes…"

However, if someone dares to make a mean comment about your style, he would be pissed off. Zoro craves honor and respect, so he would get really angry. No one can make fun of his s/o.

"Ain't no fucking way" if you want to put make-up on his face. Paint his nails black is the only thing you can do.

I believe he would be fond of your piercings. He has some earrings himself, and he thinks they're cool. He would offer you some jewels sometime. "I thought it would look cool on you." Although his appearance is stoic, he has a genuine desire to please you.

And if you two are watching a horror movie together… honestly he would just fall asleep. Saw? Sleeping. Conjuring? Sleeping. Alien? Sleeping. The silence of the lambs? S.l.e.e.p.i.n.g. You just can't freak out Zoro. But he would enjoy having a peaceful moment with you.

NSFW

Zoro would be thrilled if you got a tattoo on your back. What a beautiful sight when he takes you roughly from behind: he can watch his cock sliding in and out of you, your ass, and your back tattoo. He would retrace your tattoo with his hands and bite or lick it. All. The. Time.

Another thing he would enjoy? Your tongue piercing. "That's it, put this piercing into good use" while you're literally gagging on his cock slamming deep down your throat. The way you piercing rolls along his length or on his tip would elicit deep, low grunts from Zoro. Your watery eyes, faded eyeliner, and black drops running down your cheek would be a major turn-on for him. "Fuck, you look so pretty with your make-up all messed up."

Sanji

CW : oral sex (reader receiving), penetrative sex (no mention of genital for the reader), for the last paragraph, the reader is wearing a skirt + fishnet tights, but no pronoun used

Sanji would love your style. He likes fashion and well-dressed people. He thinks that black outfits combined with beautiful smoky eyes and some piercings is an amazing style.

But well, it's Sanji, so even if you were wearing a paper towel outfit, he would still think you're the most beautiful person in the whole universe.

He would be a fantastic help with your makeup. Are you in need of flawless eyeliner? Just leave it to him. Same with the lipstick or even nail polish. He is a divine being with hands and he probably learned a few things during the time skip.

He would have a great time watching scary movies with you. Because it means spending time with his s/o. He would prepare some healthy snacks for the both of you. But on the flip side, he's not a big fan of violence, so he would take this opportunity to get closer to you. "Oh, so scary!" Before holding you firmly. And no letting you go before the end of the movie.

Sanji would be more than happy to help you choose new clothes, make-up, or jewelry. He has really good taste. And he would try some outfits himself just to please you.

"Y/N, try this one" while showing you a shirt with a big low-cut neckline. Just because he likes to watch your chest.

If you have a tattoo on your chest, prepare yourself because Sanji's hands would be glued on it. It's too beautiful to resist, he can't help it.

Whenever you get a new tattoo, he will certainly aid you in applying the cream. He's more than happy to lend a hand if it involves touching you.

NSFW

When you're watching a movie, Sanji would enjoy the "chill" time more than the "movie" time. He would begin to retrace all of your tattoos while the movie is still running before going down on you. "Let's see if you can scream more than those guys on screen."

The way you look at him with those beautiful made-up eyes while he's thrusting into you? Intoxicating. The passion, the eyeliner, the make-up…. If you begin to kiss his neck, smearing your lipstick on his skin, his cock would be throbbing within you. It's too much for him to handle.

If you're into wearing skirts and fishnet tights, Sanji would definitely nosebleed. He would just pin you against the wall or sit you on the table, hike up your skirt, and slowly sink his length into you, moaning close to your ear.

Usopp

CW: slight fingering (reader receiving), slight cum play

At the start, he would be impressed by you. Once Usopp gets accustomed to your style, he would absolutely love it.

Your aesthetic, particularly your tattoos and jewels, would be a great source of inspiration for him. Since he is a god of his hands, he would create some outfits and jewels for you.

To surprise you, he would work really hard on a beautiful tattoo. Unlike Luffy, he is skilled at drawing. He also knows your tastes, so honestly, the final piece would be mesmerizing. Usopp would be very proud if you tattooed his drawing on your skin.

"R-really, you… you tattooed my drawing on your skin?" With a flustered expression and his heart pounding.

Even though Usopp doesn't share the same musical/cinematographic tastes, he would try to learn more about your likes. Despite his dislike for scary movies. Our poor Usopp would be so freaked out, especially with the jump scares. At the conclusion of the movie, he would become clingy and even fearful of sleeping alone in the dark.

He's a dreamer and a good storyteller, so seeing your outfits would help him with his inspiration. He loves to imagine stories and would end up daydreaming about you wearing specific outfits in specific situations. Occasionally, he would draw you.

Perhaps he could make a weapon that is based on your favorite music or movie. He's so creative.

He's a coward so piercings/tattoos are not for him, but he would help you take care of yours. And he's really conscientious about it.

The same applies to your hairstyle or make-up, Usopp knows how to cut hair and he's good with make-up because he's an artist. Please let him do your make-up and hair. He's fond of those moments of intimacy.

NSFW

"Hey y/n… so I have an idea… you know… your outfit is quite… pretty. I'd love to draw you… but you know, like… a spicy drawing… I mean, an artistic one… you see?" he would babble so much. Poor Usopp is so embarrassed. But he can't help it, you're really inspiring his creative soul. And as you accept being drawn in some suggestive positions, Usopp would try his best to keep both hands on his pencil and hide how turned on he is. But his hard cock pressing against his pants is unavoidable. Please, have mercy.

Another fantasy of his? Painting of your naked body. The sight of your bare body is breathtaking. Usopp would have a lovely and sweet time painting your curves. The softness of his touch and all his mesmerizing comments about how amazing you are, are quite adorable. His hands would be heavenly soft and he would have a glimmer of pride in his eyes because he's truly doing a great job. "Y/N… I need you so bad…" while watching at your exposed bare bottom. With your consent, sure, he would slide two fingers into you, moaning through gritted teeth. He would slide his hard cock between your ass cheeks until he cum. His seed would be on your back, thighs, almost everywhere. "Now, what a beautiful painting."

Law

CW : slight dirty talk, slight teasing, slight nipple play, slight choking

Law being... Law, he would not be very vocal about his thoughts. Like, you want to wear black clothes? Okay. A lot of piercings? Okay. You like horror movies? Fine. He has too much on his plate to care about that type of thing.

But he would be really curious about your tattoos. At first, he would stay silent because he is aloof. After some time, he would be happy to learn more about the meanings of your tattoos, if they have one. And if not, just how did you get the idea. There's a chance he'll talk about his own tattoos.

Law finds it difficult to communicate, so having something in common with him would make it easier. He is interested in discussing art with you, or even getting a tattoo with you. Law would love this date idea.

As a skilled doctor, he would be extremely attentive to the healing process. "Y/N-ya, don't forget your cream." all the day. He would leave a note if he's not around.

Putting make-up on his face is not an option. "I don't need make-up anyway, I already have dark circles under my eyes." He's not wrong in fact

Law would probably be uneasy with certain horror movies. Particularly if it can trigger his past trauma. If the plot is about sickness or people taking a bullet, he's not willing to watch it and even mad if you try to force him to.

If it's a random slasher or something paranormal, it’s okay. And he knows a number of movies. However, he would be extremely irritating. Like, pointing out all the incoherences and the jump cuts. Again, he's a doctor, so whenever there's a gore scene, he can't help but comment on it. "Ugh, it's so ridiculous, it doesn't look like this. You know that Y/N-ya, right? In fact, when people are killed like this, the organs are damaged... first, the..." Prepare yourself for a complete explanation during the movie. "The blood is unrealistic and the costumes are cheap, it's awful."

He's such a nerd.

Law probably shares your musical tastes, so perhaps he could create a playlist for you. Without any word, just like "Hey, listen to this Y/N-ya" before returning to his office.

NSFW

Piercings? Big yes. Nipple piercing? Total heaven. For hours, Law would suck and bite your nipples. Or pinch them. It's so intoxicating for him. "Your nipples are so damn hard, you like when I play with them?"

Law would be delighted to use a mirror when he plows into you from behind, as he loves your tattoos. The nice jiggle on your ass, all your tattoos wet with sweat, how you squirm and the expression of pure bliss on your face… "You're so beautiful when I'm fucking you" If you're wearing that kind of tight chain necklace, he would brutally pull on, enjoying how you're gagging. And as he buries your head against the pillow, he would love to watch the faded makeup on your face and the marks on the pillow. "You look cute when you bite the pillow." He would say, slapping your ass before continue to fuck you senseless.

And Law, as the teaser he is, would just love running his fingers along your tattooed skin for hours. Making you tremble with anticipation and desire. He would trace each line and curve from your neck to your ankles, avoiding all your sensitive areas. "You're already so turned on… for absolutely nothing. You need me so badly, y/n-ya? "

He loves your tattoos and he knows you love his. So while he fucks you, his tattooed fingers would be wrapped around your neck. "My fingers are quite a beautiful collar for you, don't you think? " With his favorite teasing grin. It's written " death " on them for a good reason, because you're here to discover what "a little death" means.

741 notes · View notes

demieyesore · 26 days

Note

U WRITE SO GOOD?!? I HAD TO HIDE MY PHONE IN PUBLIC 💀😭 more dark Anakin PLS. I loved the dom side but now I wanna see sub side and the differences. I personally think he’s a switch tbh. It would be too boring to be dom or sun all the time BUT ANYWAYS sun dark ani.

If you need ideas: he tries to convince reader to do something (you choose), reader is his master, paranoid toxic reader and he makes it worse IDK man I just love these types of fics 🤭 I eat them up. It’s even better when the reader acts innocent but is worse 😭 honestly you could just combine shit atp and I’ll eat it up anyways

Pretty When You Cry - Anakin Skywalker

Summary - Anakin tries to manipulate you by crying after overhearing Obi-Wan convince you to leave him.

Warnings / Mentions - Kenobi!Reader, GN!Reader, AFAB!Reader, Dom!Reader, Sub!Anakin, Padawan!Anakin, Master!Reader, Toxic!Reader, Paranoid!Reader, BPD coded reader, basically just BPD x BPD couple, Reader has an innocent façade, Reader actually believes their innocent so victim complex reader, Anakin triggers reader to have an episode, def angsty fic but ends with smut, literally so much manipulation...breeding kink, crying kink, biting kink, mentions of babytrapping

A/N - The Dom part of me aches when I see men crying, I both want to care for them and make them worse, also I want to make it known that I was diagnosed with Bipolar and I'm pretty sure I have BPD as well, so I'm hoping that anyone who reads this that has BPD relates to it and that it isn't just my bipolar lol, ALSO THANK YOUUUUU❤️❤️❤️

Requested - Yes

Word Count - 2556 words

Taglist - @vixxensvoid @maevesversion @sockiess @stylesslytherinskywalker @myheadhurtscutely @yourenogoodforme @xzaddyzanakinx (just bc I thought you might like this one, let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in the future)

It was really no surprise when you were yet again talking to your older brother about your problems with Anakin. He was already well aware the both of you were breaking the code, but he never said anything to anyone since you were his beloved sibling. Obi-Wan always assumed that he could get you to stop the relationship with Anakin but he never anticipated just how abusive you were to each other.

He often remembers the time when he saw tears streaming down your face, you were sobbing, begging Anakin not to leave you, even at some parts yelling at him. Obi was quite shocked when he heard you yelling at Anakin about how much you hated the Padawan. It was like you were so full of love for young Skywalker, most days you would do anything to make him smile. But there were times, periods where you would do nothing but scream about how much you hated life. Episodes where you were so paranoid about people leaving you, that it was like a flip switched.

One where the light pink aura of love would turn to a fire of red hot flames. It was such a black and white way of thinking. Obi-Wan knows that it's not your fault you act this way. The abusive household you were in wired you to be this way. And it was clear that Anakin had a similar experience.

You and Anakin were so complicated. You both were so devoted to each other. Always making sure to have the other's back on missions. But at the same time, you made each other worse.

Anakin was originally Obi-Wan's Padawan before getting transferred to you. You had just become a Master Jedi, when Obi requested the switch. He truly believed at the time that you would help Anakin become the best Jedi he could be. He saw how you interacted before Anakin became your Padawan. He had no idea about the little crush you both had on each other, only seeing how motivated Anakin would get around you to be better. A passion that Anakin didn't have when working with Obi-Wan.

This time, you were wrapped in your brother's arms. He was whispering reassuring things to you, trying to get you to calm down. The three of you were on a mission, body guarding and sworn to protect Padme. Anakin was currently watching over her as she slept. But as soon as you saw how Anakin looked at Padme, that little flip switched.

The one where you felt so much hate for him. The one that kept teeter tottering between the love for him and the feeling that he was about to abandon you.

"Obi- I...I don't know what I'm doing wrong. I thought he loved me but the way he was looking at her. He was openly flirting with her. Right in front of me, like I wasn't even there. He can't leave me, I won't let him Obi. I swear to the maker that he won't." Your brother felt...distraught for you. It was a hard emotion to explain. He was worried for you, and for Anakin. But he felt that this whole situation was his fault. If Obi-Wan hadn't asked the council to let Anakin train under you, you wouldn't be in such despair. You wouldn't feel physical pain in your chest just from your emotions.

"I fear I've made a mistake." Obi-Wan admitted as his hand caressed your hair in a soothing manner. "I believe that it would be best if Anakin were to be my Padawan again." He tried to tread lightly on the subject, not wanting to make your episode worse.

"No, no, no, Obi please, it's fine, I'll be fine. I know that he's- that I'm...I know that Anakin and I aren't..great for each other but please. I can't be without him." You desperately gripped onto his shirt, trying to make your point clear to him. Anakin was just outside, eavesdropping on the conversation. Padme was sleeping soundly in the next room, he didn't need to be in the room with her to know if something was happening. But he did need to hear this conversation. He needed to make sure that you wouldn't leave him. He wanted to make sure that Obi-Wan wouldn't...influence you into making any bad decisions.

"He's hurting you, don't be blind to that. You're hurting him too. You don't want that, do you?" Obi-Wan asked, his face showing sincere concern.

Regularly, if Obi were to have said that, you would have flipped at him for trying to take Anakin away from you. But in the confusion and pain of your mind. The images flooding into your brain of Anakin and Padme. You only heard the first part of your brother's sentence.

"He's hurting you..." Kept repeating in your head, like someone recorded a hologram of his voice and played it on loop. It just kept getting louder, the button being pressed again, putting you into a fit of rage.

"You're right." You couldn't bare to say anything else. The silence afterwards was so deafening that Anakin had to hold back his tears in fear of you hearing his breath through the door. It was like an emptiness was injected into your veins. A thick silver liquid that would taste like you were choking on mercury. Your mind was so...blank. There were no longer multiple voices in your head yelling. This one was quiet. So eerily quiet.

Anakin wiped his tears, going back towards the room where Padme lays asleep. He felt betrayed, but he couldn't blame you. All his anger was pushed onto Obi-Wan. Anakin was delusional, he fully believed that Obi was the problem. Not him and definitely not you. He knew that he had to persuade you into changing your mind. And what better way than for you to see him crying? Your heart was always so...malleable whenever he was crying. You would always comfort him, your left hand running through his hair while your right would rest on the nape of his neck, playing with the baby hairs.

You'd have your eyebrows furrowed in concern for him but he could always see the part of you that enjoyed it. The way that when he'd wipe his tears or the way that his lower lip would quiver always sent a small smile to your face. Even while crying, you thought he was pretty. You'd look at him with such...adoration, admiration and even a little lust. When he'd look into your eyes and ask for help, when he'd beg for you to save him, he'd notice how your pupils expanded, dilated with desire. The way that your thighs would clench shut.

Once Obi-Wan calmed you down enough, you collected yourself, thanking your brother for once again helping you to see straight. You pushed open the door, Obi following behind you into the hallway only to see Anakin sitting against Padme's door. Tears dripping down from his eyes. His hands were hanging loosely over his knees as he stared harshly at the ground.

Obi-Wan held up his hand, signaling to you that he would watch over Padme as you talked to Anakin.

Anakin moved, leaning forward to let Obi into the Previous queen's chambers. His tearful eyes glanced up into yours, already taking note of how you stared back at him like he was nothing. He would have to play more into it just to get you to come back to him. He'd be lying if he said that your empty eyes didn't scare him.

You grabbed his wrist, pulling him into one of the spare bedrooms far away from Padme's. Not wanting to disturb her sleep.

You said nothing at first, not even looking at him as he sat on the edge of the bed. Your back face him as you zoned out, still staring at the now closed door. You had nothing in your mind, absolutely nothing. But you were still so wrapped up in your mind. You felt like you weren't present in your body.

The only thing that brought you back to the present moment was the sound of Anakin beginning to whimper. He sounded like he was in pain. And even though you were so upset and mad with him, you'd rather slit your own throat than to hear him in agony. You quickly turned around to see Anakin sinking in on himself, his eyes screwed shut as he tried to not let more tears fall. Your heart ached, your body reacting before you even thought.

Your knees hit the floor in front of the bed, your hands resting on his knees as you looked up into his eyes. Wet droplets falling onto his shirt, the material soaking it up.

"What's wrong Babyboy?" You were slightly shocked to hear your own voice, your body still responding out of impulse. Anakin immediately knew that he had you, you were back in his grasp and it was time for him to mold you into what he wanted, what he needed you to be.

"He turned you against me." Anakin said sharply, making eye contact. You could see the anger and betrayal in his soul. "Ani, what are you talking about?" The sweetness ripples out of your mouth, despite the fact that you knew exactly what he was talking about. You knew that he must have been listening if he was crying.

"Obi-Wan. He made you hate me. You're gonna leave me. How could you?" His voice shook, cracking at the end from pain. Your hand shot up to his cheek, wiping a stray as you caressed his face.

"I could never hate you. Not entirely..." You breathe out in a sigh. You were so worried about him but then you saw the little tremble of his bottom lip, the way he leaned into your touch, making you feel so loved, so appreciated, so important.

"You know that I hate seeing you cry..." You lied through your teeth, trying to keep up the mask of only worry. of course you were worried about him, but you never wanted him to know the deeper feelings you feel when he cries.

"Liar." Ani let out a choked laugh, a cute grin spreading across his face albeit tears were adorning it. "You love seeing me cry." He whispers, like he was reminding you of your own secret.

"It's not my fault." You defended as a joke, your face full of devotion for him.

"That's just what you do, because I'm pretty when I cry." Anakin rolled his eyes, the redness and puffiness from crying becoming more evident on his face. His lips were swollen, bitten raw.

"The prettiest." You said, leaning up to peck at his lips, just giving him a quick little kiss, but Anakin wanted more. He whined when you broke the contact, inviting you to kiss him more, kiss him with passion and fire. So you did just that, reconnecting your lips, practically devouring him in the kiss.

He moaned into the kiss, the sensation reverberating throughout your bones before settling in your core.

"I don't care how bad we are for each other, you're mine and always will be." You muttered against his mouth, feeling when he smiled into the kiss. You stood up from your spot on the floor in front of him and quickly discarded your clothes, leaving yourself in just your bra and underwear. You straddled his lap, kissing him once more as you tugged at his shirt.

He aided you in the removal of his shirt, groaning against your lips when he felt you grind against his boner.

"Stop..." He mumbled in a whimper at your teasing.

You held onto his shoulders, feeling the muscles just beneath the skin. Trailing your hands down to his pants, swiftly undoing them. You pulled them as far down as you could while straddling his lap. Your hand slipped past his briefs and gently grasped his length. Anakin shifted uncomfortably at the touch, his back straightening as his breathing stopped momentarily.

Your touch always was the death of him but your breath, your kiss, always brought him back.

"Master, please-" He whimpered, his mouth wavering into a quick frown. You bit at his lip, shutting him up. You pulled away from the kiss, looking down as you pumped his cock in your hand a couple of times, collecting the shared saliva from the kiss and spitting onto his tip.

His Adams apple bobbed, his hands gripping the side of the bed sharply. His head fell back, eyes fluttering shut as your hand worked up and down his length. He clenched his jaw, trying his hardest to keep his mouth shut but it was nearly impossible to stay quiet. The pleasure he felt from your voice alone would make him cum almost instantly, your hand just added more shockwaves.

"You don't have to be silent..." You remind him, mocking the way he's trying so hard to not make any noise.

He moans, whimpering and squirming under your touch when he leans forward, his forehead resting against your shoulder.

"Please just..." He stutters out, biting his tongue as he lifts his hips, sliding his cock up into your hand more.

"So needy..." You teased, stopped all your movement. Anakin's head flew up, looking into your eyes with desperation. He was about to complain when you lifted yourself, pulling your underwear to the side and swiping his tip through your folds. The feeling made him groan in pleasure, sucking in a deep breath of air.

You teased him for a little bit longer, his pre-cum pressing against your clit when you finally put all your weight onto him. His cock sinking into your entrance. He choked out a sob of pleasure, feeling how tight you were around him. He wrapped his arms around you, his mouth latching onto your shoulder, biting down as he thrusted up into you. Your own moans just fueled him to do better, reach deeper. His tears stained your skin, his whimpers vibrating against your shoulder.

"Please, I want-" His question is cut off when he feels you pulsate around him, his eyes widening with need. "Please, baby just let me- need to cum so bad...Master please, I need to cum- cum inside you-" He begged, his desperation dripping off him in the form of sweat.

"You want to cum inside?" You ask, mocking his need. Anakin swallowed thickly, "You can't- you can't leave me if you're pregnant." He whimpers as he kisses the side of your neck, sucking the skin and leaving purplish red bruises.

You grind down, meeting him when he thrusts. "Such a pretty boy, I'd be so mean to say no...only because you're crying all pretty for me." You mumble, kissing the spot of skin closest to where your head rests against him.

Anakin holds you tightly, almost as if he's afraid you'll whither away, a bead of sweat drops from his forehead as he comes undone with one last thrust. His white hot cum leaking out from his tip and filling you. He thrusts up into you twice more, his grip on you possessive.

"I won't let you ever leave me." Ani mutters as he comes down from his climax, while you're still catching your breath, your cunt fluttering around him.

#anakin skywalker #star wars anakin #yandere anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x you #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #anakin fanfiction #dark!anakin #sub!anakin #toxic!anakin

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chiikasevennn · 1 month

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More Than You Think

Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader imagines 🫰🏻🫰🏻🫰🏻

Warning: NSFW AFTER CUT!! Belly bulge RAAAAHHHHH, mating press, I love this man please help me, OOC I THINK MAYBE YEAH DEFINITELY BUT IDRC I JS WANT HIM SM 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 nothing violent, this thing has fluffyyy, couple problems? Idk her I'm happy with my man!! My writing is shit. Not proofread.

—

Imagine Miguel O'hara ended up developing deep feelings for you. Initially, you believed your relationship with him would be short-lived, perhaps lasting only three months, given your past experiences with partners who tended to be temporary. None of them could evoke genuine love in you. However, to your surprise, your relationship with Miguel endured for ten months, and now you found yourself wishing it would never end.

Imagine Miguel O'hara feeling like you were the last and missing piece to complete him, like you were the calm in his storm, a safe harbor where he found solace and peace. He encountered you on the outskirts of town while heading to a renowned library brimming with knowledge. At first, it seemed like a mere coincidence, but as time went by, he found himself anticipating more chance encounters with you.

Imagine Miguel O'hara being a caring partner to you, but god, you were on another level. You were truly lovely. Your authenticity, rationality, and kindness shone through. He adored your sense of humor, finding joy in your quirky jokes even when you dismissed them as corny and laughed at your own silliness. You're cute, like really. That was what he thought.

Imagine Miguel O'Hara growing to love you even more, reaching a point where he thought he couldn't possibly love you any deeper, only to find himself continually surprised as his love for you intensifies beyond what he thought was possible. You weren't only those qualities; you were also nurturing, encouraging, and remarkably affectionate. Although you displayed hesitancy frequently during your time together, once you became more comfortable, you cradled him like a baby.

Imagine Miguel O'Hara growing more at ease as well, you created a safe environment where he felt free to be vulnerable, unafraid to reveal aspects of himself he once considered weaknesses. You consistently emitted an aura that he couldn't deny was soothing and captivating. Many times, he'd be enveloped in your embrace, comforted by your affectionate whispers, growing more attached as he welcomed your love. Your gentle caresses on his scalp, coupled with tender kisses on his forehead, made him feel cherished and complete—truly, you meant the world to him.

"I love you," You murmured softly as you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, convinced of his slumber as you felt his body unwind within your embrace. With a serene exhale, you shut your eyes, surrendering to the peacefulness enveloping you.

Miguel embraced you tighter, mindful not to overwhelm. Drawing nearer, he took in the fragrance of your presence.

NSFW!!

Imagine Miguel O'Hara gently sweeping your hair aside, leaning in to place a caring kiss on your forehead, whispering sweet words into the stillness between the two of you as he pounded drastically into you. He had you in a mating press, legs spread just for him, holding and touching you everywhere his hands could get.

"Shit— shitshitshit," a kiss to your lips, "—you're doing—" another, "—such… A good job, m'love," In that moment, his lips met yours with an intense passion, delving into a profound kiss. He let his sperm leak inside you, his cock hitting your cervix that sent you to heavens. Miguel's mouth watered as he gazed upon the unmistakable swell of your belly.

That was all his inside you. His cum. The input that would soon become a wonderful output. Miguel teetered on the edge of primal instinct. He cursed before He swore under his breath before fiercely capturing your lips, relishing the flavor of your kiss as he slammed back into your cove, cumming so deep inside of you. You couldn't moan anymore, for you were already stuffed way too much—from your mouth and to your hole. Your mind went numb, only wanting Miguel and nobody else as he kept fucking you so hard that if anyone would come in, it'd immediately be assumed that he hated you.

Your tears continued to stream down your cheeks, your emotional dependency on Miguel akin to that of a child, craving more of him with every fiber of your being.

Just as you felt on the verge of passing out from the lack of oxygen, Miguel reluctantly withdrew. Both of you gasped for air, breathing heavily, while love marks adorned your bodies in abundance.

You embraced him back against your body and kissed his neck. "... I l—love you," voice hoarse due to the amount of noise you had freed.

With a smile, Miguel leaned in and pressed a long, tender kiss to your temple.

"... I love you, too."

Your smile mirrored his own gentleness. He loved you. Of course, you were well aware of his love for you, hearing those words, so seldom uttered, left you feeling both physically and mentally weak. And Miguel? He melted. Shit, you were so shockingly beautiful. He'd been pounding into your poor pussy for what seemed like hours, and here you were, loving him throughout the process, basically just so so in love.

Miguel may not say it verbally, but he loves you. More than you think.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spider-man #miguel o'hara smut #smut #atsv #lmao

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updatingranboo · 9 months

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ranboo tweet... uh

["This was such a good joke and I am appalled by the fact that it has not gone absolutely bonkers viral. I mean is comedy dead? I just dont understand how a regular human being can read the word "Greans" (A combination of green and jeans) followed by an image of, well, green jeans, and not absolutely evacuate themselves in laughter.

I believe this has something to do with the fact that comedy as we know it is dying. It has become too mainstream in todays media and that is the main problem. Gone are the days where silly little guys in their silly little hop hats are able to go "knock knock" and absolutely change the world. Nowadays you have to have so many things that go into a joke for it to remotely even be funny, setup, punchline the whole ordeal. Whatever happened to just a simple Practicality joke? Whatever happened to just being able to slap someone and be the headlining act?

The world is so full of so called "comedians" these days it makes me sick. All these people do is spend hours writing and practicing their act in order to try and sway an audience to have a good time listening to their words. For SHAME! Comedy used to be just two people on a stage just slapping eachother and going "knock knock" for twenty hours. Whatever happened to the good ol days where people just laughed at whatever someone said because their brain hadnt fully developed?

This is why I believe that I am going to start performing my comedy acts to a bunch of babies. An absolute hoard of newborns. I will make my jokes to them and they will laugh for they truly understand what humor should be. I will go to a hospital in that little room they have where it is very easy to switch said babies and cause a bit of a ruckus, but instead of doing that (very funny joke) I will simply perform for them and relish in their cheers and guffaws.

It is sad that one has to turn to performing to just babies in order for the world to understand the complexity of ones said humor, but alas if its what I must do its what I must do. Maybe one day we will revert back to absolute comedy anarchy, where the chicken has not yet crossed the road, but until then I will continue to strive and push forward in this dark age of comedy.

Maybe a complete reset of what we find funny is in order, maybe we have lost what humor once was for us. We obviously have considering my VERY FUNNY TWEET does not have a bazillion likes and has not spun off at least 30 million movie deals. (Please note that this joke is satire, and Ranboo stands in solidarity with the SAG-AFTRA strikes. Support actors and writers. -A message from Ranboo)

I spent time and effort making this tweet, I saw the green jeans in front of my eyes (which are very squishy) and my neurons fired and made this absolute gem of a joke. I was excited to share it with the world, I tweeted it nearly right after I saw it, excited to see what new adventures this tweet could bring me. I went to bed all cozy smiling like a child on christmas eve night, excited for the morning. When I woke I turned to check my phone instantly, my eyes racing to see the like total. What would it be? 500k? A million? I was surprised that my dms hadnt blown up with a personal message from every billionaire going "let me give you all of my money I can never make anything as good as your "Greans" tweet" but It must have been a glitch.

I was appalled to see that my tweet had only 30K??? 30K for the pinnacle of all of human achievement? A slap in the face of innovation is what it felt like. Like when that thomas edison guy ate a stolen lightbulb or something idk what he did really but I remember the person who made that lightbulb which he ate probably felt really sad and I felt really sad so I felt a deep connection with that person.

I quickly fell into a great depression, this is what all of my life had lead up to: one sad tweet. I didnt see the outside for years because of this tweet. I thought to myself "why would they do this?", "Isnt humanity supposed to be kind, supportive, and have a sense of humor when it comes to differently colored jean jokes?" (dcjj as I call them), and "Man I should probably have a burger" (I did) (very yummy) but as I ate my burger all I could taste were my TEARS as I chomped into it from the top down. It felt like I couldnt do anything right. Until thats when it hit me.

Im not the problem, EVERYONE ELSE IS! My humor isnt "bad" or "unfunny" or "makes me want to find a microwave and cause it to malfunction so I either become the hulk or die" (Please do not try this. -Another Ranboo message) It has to be that simply I am so far ahead in the world when it comes to comedy that my time has simply just not yet come! My jokes will be funny to a different generation, which will be frowned upon at first but I will quickly be welcomed with open arms, and told that I am an innovator, a true scholar of all that is funny.

And so I wait for that day. I wait for the day that people look back on my Greans tweet and realize, that without a doubt that it is the funniest thing that they have ever seen. The problem is not with my joke, the problem is with the world, and thats what makes humanity beautiful, is that it evolves, it changes, it doesnt stick to its mindset that a tweet that has the word "Greans" followed by a pair of green jeans doesnt get a BAZILLION LIKES! I wait for that day, and for those of you who are with me, I hope you wait patiently as well. Stay strong."]

#this is how i found out tumblr has a character limit per block #well. have fun reading #i sure did #ranboo #ranboo update #twitter update #ranboosaysstuff tweet

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dolliestfairy · 10 months

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Dolliest 🎀

Vincent Sinclair, Jason Voorhees, Asa emory, & Patrick bateman with Chubby!fem!reader who dressed like a Doll! ʚ ₊˚ ᥀✿

Author Note ✿ : hello lovlies, sorry i have been on a break for like 3/4 days because i just like um.. really need some break and also i had a lot activities going on, but i still try to write something for you all, so please sit down and enjoy :). if you like my writings please give me reblogs and feedbacks. tysm! also we almost got 140 followers atp, Tysm for your support lovlies!!

Trigger Warning ✿ : insecurities, fluff, some murder stuff idk, blood & insect mentioned, and some comfort also :), and maybe some misspelled word. overall enjoy! Reader skin color is NOT announced.

Dividers from @v6que ꒰ঌ ໒꒱. Gifs are not mine.

✿ Vincent sinclair

- you're an Art, thats what Vincent think the first time he saw you.

- and oh my god... he freaking loves it watching you dressing yourself!!

- believe me, he would never let anyone take down your confidence, if the one who take down your confidence is his brother (take example : Bo Sinclair) he wouldnt be scared to defend you like it his life-priority.

- but if the one who takes down your confidence is his next victim?? they are dead. even if the victim was important bla bla bla, he doesnt give a fck. how dare they talk down to his beloved partner?? such a unforgivable act.

- Love, i mean﹍LOOVEE drawing you. you're gonna see THOUSANDS paper with a drawing that look Exactly like you, EVERYWHERE. he even had his own fav drawing that he's dedicated to you.

- he, drawing you, and protecting you from anyone who mocks you including his brother, is a way of how he show himself that he is truly in love with you.

- if you're feeling insecure? better be ready to be suffocate from his affection.

✿ Jason Voorhees

- Man is silently drooling behind his mask.

- kinda like a Mommy kink....

- love the way you dress yourself with those soft pink dress and accesories, those glam nails and hairs and those soft makeup... perfect.

- but theres a time where he felt himself is not appropriate for you.

- we know this man is a insecure boy, but if you manage to cheer him up with your own way, istg your life is going to be put into this big mans life-priority.

- like.. he'll do everything to keep you happy.

- sometimes he even steal accessories or clothes or even make up that he found from his victim, where he collect them all and give them all for you.

- you might feeling kinda nasty seeing those gift is still covered in blood and with like a rotting-corpse smell... but if you accept it brightly he's gonna die on that place & in that moment.

- really love you. if you're insecure, he's going to slit somebodys throat for making you that way, but if you're feeling insecure because your own self? well then, he's going to go to hunt some victim, to get some MORE AND MORE stuff that you may like, well i mean.. thats just how he shows his love for you. his chubby doll 🎀

✿ Asa emory

- didnt know how to feel....

- but he does somehow, loves the opposite vibes you both gave. like he's the bad murderer boy who likes insect and some nasty nasty stuff, life in a nasty place and then theres you! who brighten up the nasty place he live in, always dress like a doll, pink pink, Vanilla perfume n stuff..

- just perfect and balance combination.

- when his victim saw who he is and when they saw YOU who is behind him they're gonna find themself asking "y-you.. you-you didnt get k-killed?..." and only to get the answer of him "she's my Princess."

- BUT... thats on a rare occassion. sometimes he just called you "my partner" or something. but if he's feeling in a good & cocky mood then he's going to call you his princess.

- and just like jason, he likes to give you a beautiful beautiful stuff who is always & almost covered in blood.

- if he's sees you wearing the stuff he gave you he can feel his cold heart melting.

- jk.. he doesnt feel his cold heart melting, because you already melt him in the first place. he just can feel his cold & thick heart is being burned by your affection.

- and when i'm telling you this.. he's enjoying, every, single, one of it.

✿ Patrick bateman

- oh my god..

- he's a real cocky man. but let me tell you something..

- HE SPOILS YOU SOO MUCH LIKE OH MY GOD.

- like i'm not even joking. he spoils you... really really spoils you to the bone, to your soul like you feel like you're suffocating.

- because he's still a patrick bateman, he loves to suffocate everyone, you're no expectation. the only differences is that he suffocate other people with death.

- but with you?... oh he's going to suffocate you with.. LOVE, LOVE & LOVE!

- in which he doesnt even believe any of that.

- but he does, believe it with you.

- patrick is a aware man. he knew himself real well, so when he found himself on a one knee for you, he found himself surprised and well um.. unbelieveably.

- never in his wildest life he would ended up with someone like you.

- at first he tried to denied, but as times goes by, he cant help, but felt his cold and tough soul was slowly melting over your words and touch.

- you're so.. so.. precious. soft, and round.. need to be protected and loved.

- it has been Too long for patrick bateman since he have been feeling this type of.. feelings.

- but you manage to somehow make him feel it again! and he wont waste it!

- the way he suffocate you, choking you with his affection and love is just how he shows himself how madly he is in love with you..! please dont waste it darling, please dont..

- let your soft appereance burn his cold soul as he would burn this world for you.

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gizmo-writes · 11 months

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stubborn | spencer reid

warnings: being held hostage by an unsub, torture in the form of slapping, tasers and hair pulling, reader is very stubborn and sassy, spencer is a bit mean i apologize, spencer calls you not smart, being called names like stupid and brat, idk what else

I really wanna write a part 2 about the aftermath so let me know if you wanna see that

"Guys! Guys! I got something!" Garcia rushed into the conference room, setting her laptop on the table and turning on the tv. There you were, completely out of it, obviously with the way your head lolled back. You were heated up, bruised badly and your head was bleeding but you were obviously so out of it that you didn't even notice. "Where is this coming from?" Hotch asked as Garcia shook her head, "I-I don't know, it's pinging off to many towers, whoever is doing this is- is using so many different encryptions and firewalls." (genuinely don't know tech terminology im so sorry if this took y'all out of it I apologize) She was shaking, so worried about you she wasn't sure she could think straight.

Spencer was the same way, but he knew he couldn't think straight. The way you looked, where you were, reminded him so much of how Tobias Hankle had treated him. Every single aspect that he had tried so hard to forget was coming back to him now. The abuse, the drugs, the cravings. He held onto the chair with an iron grip, knuckles turning white. He didn't want to see you like this, he didn't like the thoughts running through his head right now. He didn't wanna see the abuse you were going to endure, he didn't want to hear your tortured screams. This was his own form of torture.

You really couldn't feel anything but you figured that was for the better. Your head rolled to the side, your eyes were open but everything was so blurry you couldn't even see. You could make up an outline of someone, someone tall. For a moment you felt joy, you felt safety. "Spence?" You said. But it wasn't spencer, he was on the other side of a screen and when he heard his name, his heart broke. He wanted to be able to yell at you, tell you that it wasn't him, tell you to run even if you weren't sure if your legs could move. But he couldn't, he just had to sit there and watch.

"Not quite," The man said, walking closer to you so you could see him. Your eyes narrowed as you realized the man in front of you truly wasn't Spencer and was in fact some psycho. You jerked in your restraints, trying to punch whoever was in front of you but yet you couldn't move. "Good try," he chuckled coldly. "Jesus christ," you murmured, looking down to see your hands tied to the chair. "You're begging for someone who doesn't exist honey," the man said. You rolled your eyes at that, "seriously? Why do you care if I beg for someone you don't believe in? Besides i wasn't begging I was-" You were cut off with a sharp slap to your face.

Spencer really wished you weren't so catty sometimes. Sure, he liked it sometimes, especially when you were able to stick up for yourself or him when someone said something rude. But right now he was begging you to keep your mouth shut. "Was that really necessary? You could've just told me to shut up-" once again you were slapped again. "Shut the fuck up!" He yelled at you. "Okay!" You yelled back. Spencer cringed, "why won't she just be quiet," he groaned. "Spence, she's trying-" JJ started but Spence stopped her, "I don't care what she was trying! She knows better than to fight back when she's unable to physically fight! All this will do is get her in more trouble!" He said, slamming his fist on the table as he watched you. "Kid, she's a smart girl." Derek tried to say but spencer shook his head, "She's not being smart right now." He said.

Spencer was right, you weren't being smart and deep down you knew that but god, you were so fucking angry. Angry at yourself, angry at the man in front of you. You don't even remember how you were taken, you don't remember what you did for this to happen, all you knew is it had to somehow be your fault. "Finally, she shuts up," the man said, grabbing your face and making you look up at him. "You're much prettier when you're quiet. Does your boyfriend ever tell you that? I bet he does because you can never seem to just shut the fuck up," he spat. You clenched your jaw at the mention of Spencer. "How the Fuck do you know about my boyfriend?" You asked, looking up at him angrily. "Why? Does that bother you when I mention him? Does it make you angry that i know about him?" He asked, squeezing your face to the point that it hurt. "Don't fucking touch him," you spat at him making the man pull back and wipe his space of your spit. "God, you're really fucking dumb aren't you?" He said. "Still smarter than you," you said.

Spencer couldn't watch this, he couldn't watch you dig yourself into a hole that he wasn't sure you'd come out alive. His jaw clenched as he watched you be tased, your head falling back as you cried out in pain. "Oh my god," Garcia said, shielding her eyes. Spencer forced himself to watch, he had to know, he had to see what happened so he would know how to help you when you got back. He needed to know, despite the fact that these images would be engrained in his brain forever.

"This isn't helping, we need to figure out where she is and I don't know how watching this will help." JJ spoke, half tired of watching you be tortured and half wanting to actually find you. "I don't see anything identifying in the background, no windows, no pictures." Emily pointed out. "She might say something if she knew he was filming. She may know where she is." Derek pointed out. "She can barely even see straight and with how much she's talking she might not even make it through the night," Spencer muttered. "Spence!" JJ said. "What?! I'm right! I love her but she never shuts the fuck up and right now it may cause her death but yet she's still too fucking stubborn to just shut the fuck up and pay attention," He spat. He was angry, he had every right to be. but his anger was misdirected at you. He was mad at the unsub, mad that a man took you and was holding you hostage and torturing you. He wasn't mad at you, a bit annoyed but never mad.

"Spencer, you are not helping us right now. We understand you're mad but you have no right to talk about her like that." JJ said. Spencer just shook his head, jaw clenching. "As much as you may hate this Reid, we need you. And what we need is for you to watch, to listen, see if her or she says something that may give us a hint. Can you do that? Or do I need to kick you out?" Emily asked, giving him a pointed look. "I understand, i Can do that." He said through gritted teeth. He finally sat down and just stared at the tv. He was thankful you couldn't hear him, he genuinely felt bad about what he said but he couldn't even apologize to you because you weren't here.

Your head fell forward after being tased multiple times finally stopped. "Will you be quiet now?" The man asked. You nodded, reluctantly. You wanted to speak but you were in so much pain you couldn't. You were shaking, you couldn't even move your head with how tired your body was. "Good, finally." He said, "now you can get a good look at this." The man said as he walked behind you. He grabbed your head roughly by your hair, pulling your head back to look up. You tried to focus your eyes but you couldn't, everything was so blurry and your head had started to hurt. "Do you see that? They can see you. They're watching. God, that's what makes this fun, knowing they're watching you but they can't do anything to help. Isn't that fun?" He asked. You didn't respond and obviously that made him angry. He yanked your head back by your hair making you let out a pathetic cry. "Answer me," he demanded. "Thought you didn't want me to talk?" You said tiredly. "You're a fucking brat you know that? I don't know how anyone puts up with you." He let go of your hair and your head fell forward once again.

Spencer closed his eyes tightly, breathing heavily. This was torture for him and now he knew the unsub was enjoying it. The unsub knew this wasn't only torture for you but for them too and he loved it. He hated every second of this, he hated every time you opened your mouth. It pained him, he knew you were angry, it didn't take a profiler to see that, but he just couldn't understand why you wouldn't stop talking back.

"I have to go out, you stay put okay?" He said, pushing your hair out of your face. It was oddly tender coming from a man who had just slapped you, tased you and pulled your hair and not in the enjoyable way. "Gotta make sure you look pretty for your boyfriend," he said. He then grabbed his keys and left. You couldn't think straight, everything was setting in so slowly. They were watching, you kept having to repeat that to yourself till you would believe it was true. You tried to lift your head but it just fell back down. You groaned, angry at yourself that you couldn't even look at the camera. You had something to tell them, you had seen the unsubs face and they hadn't. He wore a black ski mask around you and know you knew why, he had been filming this.

"B-bl-blue eyes," you spoke slowly, tiredly. You needed to get this out before you passed out again. Spencer raised his head to watch you. "H-he has blue eyes and brown hair." You had to stop to breathe. "S-scar on his face, left side on his cheek. P-please understand I am okay, i am strong," you croaked out. Your voice was betraying you and you hated it. It made you angry, making you clench your fists. "I can take It.. i-i don't know where I am.. it's the woods- i-I don't remember how I got here. Please- just find me," you closed your eyes tightly trying to hold back your tears. You dug your nails into the wood of the chair trying to calm yourself and ground yourself. Spencer had to stop himself from crying too, "Garcia, did you get that?" He asked. "Yes- yes I did. I'm looking. I'm searching. Uh blue eyes, dark hair, scar- uh- Jeffery Golden," She said looking at Spencer. "Name and address?" JJ asked. "Sending now," Garcia said. The team stood up and were quick to leave, Spencer included.

Garcia kept watch on you, once the team left she broke down and started crying. She had to constantly remind herself that you were okay but it was hard, especially when she was watching you fall apart in front of her eyes. They found the man, Jeffery Golden. But the problem was, you weren't there, you weren't in his house nor his job. You weren't there and that scared the shit out of Spencer. They had the man but no clue where you were and if they didn't find you soon, you may not survive due to your injuries. Sure, he could see the ones on the outside but he wasn't sure about any internal bleeding.

"Where is she?" Rossi asked the unsub who was sitting across the table from him. "Now where's the fun in telling you?" He asked, smirk playing in his face. "If you tell us where she is, we will tell them you cooperated. Now tell us where she is." Hotch said in his demanding tone. "Where's the boyfriend? I wanna talk to him," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Absolutely not, you tell us where she is and maybe we will talk about a deal." Rossi said. "Here's my deal, you let me talk to the doctor and then I'll tell you where she is." He said, still smirking.

With that Hotch and Rossi walked out. "Let me in there," Spencer immediately said. "No, we don't know if he's being honest," Hotch said. "That doesn't matter, if he's willing to talk then I should go in there." Spencer said. "He just wants to mess with you Reid, he has said it himself that he enjoys this." Rossi said. "I don't care, this is our only chance. Please just let me talk to him. Please," Spencer begged. Hotch shook his head, "Fine, but the second it goes wrong I will pull you out of there." He said. Spencer nodded before walking into the room.

"There he is, the stunning Dr. Spencer Reid." The unsub said, relaxing in his seat as Spencer and Hotch walked in. "How are you? How have you been?" He asked but no one spoke. Hotch sat down, "Reid," he said. Spencer stared at the guy as he sat down. "Oof, someone is angry, how can you truly be angry over someone like her? If anything I think she needs this. Someone needs to teach her to keep her mouth shut, arent I right, Dr. Reid?" He asked. Spencer was unwavering, showing no emotion. "Where is she?" Was all he asked. "Oh come on, give me something Spence! I know you think of her the same way I do. An annoying brat who has never learned to shut the fuck up and look where it got her. She needed to learn her lesson." He stated. Still he remained emotionless. "You said if we brought him in here, you would tell us where she is." Spencer said. "I said that and I may have lied. But come on, admit it. You hate her just like I do." He said. Spencer slammed his fists on the table, "I love her! Tell me where she is!" He yelled. Hotch stood up, "Reid, out," he said sternly. "No, Hotch he fucking knows where-" Hotch cut him off, "Out!" He said louder this time. Finally, Spencer listened and left the room. "I got something! Y/n said something about the woods so I looked into him-" Garcia was speaking fast but still Hotch stopped her, "Garcia," he said. "I think I have an address." Garcia said. She then immediately sent the address to the team and they were quick to be on their way.

Spencer was the first to find you, of course he was. He was on a mission and the mission was finding you. "Y/n, y/n, im here," he said, grabbing your face gently and pulling you up to look at him. You groaned in response as JJ undid your cuffs. "Look at me, tell me you hear me, please," Spencer begged. "You're so loud," you muttered, giving him a weak smile as your eyes slowly opened. God, it was good to see his face. "I know, im loud, i talk a lot, I worry, but god, im so happy you're okay," Spencer said, stroking your face. "I wouldn't say I was okay," you spoke so softly spencer could barely even hear you. But for once, he was so happy to hear your sass. "I know, the ambulance is coming. We'll get you checked out and you'll be okay." He said. He was the only thing keeping you from freaking out, from worry about the extensive list of injuries you'd have. It just felt so good to be in his hands again that you didn't care about your pain or injuries.

The ambulance showed up but god you were grateful. You felt so close to passing out and you didn't want to. You wanted to see Spencer, you wanted to remember his face just like he could remember yours. You wanted to memorize him, you wanted to love him. "Hey, it's okay, I'm still here." Spencer said as he held your hand in the ambulance. "Spence?" Your voice was soft and hard to hear through the oxygen mask. You pulled it down with your shaking hand. "Hey, no, no, you need that," Spencer said, trying to put it back but you shook your head. "N-no, im so sorry. Im sorry i talk too much. I'm sorry I did this-" Spencer shook his head, "No, you didn't do this, this wasn't your fault." He said, trying to comfort you. "Yes it was Spence, I talk to much, I made him hurt me because I can't shut up. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'll learn, i promise," you began to cry. You tried to be strong but you knew you couldn't. No amount of sass would mask just how hurt you were.

Spencer hated this, no matter how many times he would say it, you would never believe it wasn't your fault. No matter what he would say, you would never be yourself again. You wouldn't be able to be sassy again, you wouldn't be as stubborn as you was. And he'd miss it, he'd miss every second of it. Every second of you talking back to him, every second of you being too stubborn to stay back with Garcia, he'd miss every single second of it and it broke him.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n

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doraambrose · 3 months

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I see this alot in fanon and I think jason Todd's parents are completely misunderstood.

Disclaimer: I am not a victim of parents with drug abuse nor have a I ever done drugs. I sympathize and emphasize with people who struggle with drug abuse as there are many reasons to get into it and it's very hard on your body to get clean, I will link help organizations below. This does mean that I can be a little ignorant to the struggles so if I say anything offensive or wrong, please call me out and educate me so I don't make the same mistake

Jason's family has been retconned so many times, it's hard to keep it straight. But this is my headcannon based on what I've seen:

1. I feel like a lot of people write Willis Todd to be this awful abusive scumbag who hated his kid and his wife. If you are talking about young justice or arkhamverse, this canonically true, but I think that's far from the truth in the main universe, prime or whatever it's called. In batman 411, jason is clearly distraught by Willis' death and does try to avenge him by lashing out at Two face. We also can't forget about the incident with the penguin that led to the worst Bruce and jason characterization before gotham war. And that's because of one rhato issue where jason finally reads willis' letters (a truly heartbreaking issue: rhato rebirth 23)

I believe that Willis wasn't a bad dad. Not a good dad, but not an awful abusive one. I 100% believe he has never abused his family in this universe. And you know what, he wasn't a great person. He was a drug dealer and then a henchmen. But he CARED. He cared about his family. He tried so hard to provide for Catherine and Jason for their medical bills, food, shelter. He just had a poor upbringing and some real shit luck, trying to survive in poverty in Gotham city.

2. Catherine has been written in fanon to be a perfect caring mother who was nothing but a victim. I believe that she wasn't as good of a mother and a person as people make her out to be. And we haven't seen everything, but I believe this because she seems selfish. She seems to put herself and her drug addiction before her family, doesn't seem to even try to get clean or take care of jason or provide. Look at these panels:

She neglected Jason. He had to go out and put his life on the line day after day when it should've been the other way around. Jason was a kid. And don't get me wrong, she probably loved jason and had good intentions, no, she definitely loved him, or else jason wouldn't canonically think as highly of her and take care of her the way he did, but she wasn't perfect and I don't think she was as good of a mother as she's made out to be.

3. Canonically, jason seems to really care for Catherine, but not Willis. I have a theory about that. For why he thinks so highly of catherine: I've never had a parent who suffered from drug abuse, but I do have a parent who suffered from a lot of mental health issues like depression, diagnosed, and I feel like bpd, though it was never diagnosed. When things were bad, they were BAD. I witnessed a lot. But when things were good, things were REALLY GOOD. I feel like when Catherine would come off the drug haze, things were like that. She probably took care of him during those times and was loving and all that. Catherine is the one parent figure Jason has to hold onto (because of all the shit with Bruce, Sheila, etc.). He forcibly removes the bad shit she's done and hangs onto the good things she's done because she really did care about him and in life, it seems harder to hate your mom than your dad (from what i have heard when i did research on this from friends). I've done that for years, and idk if I'm explaining it right, but I think that's the best way I can. For why he doesn't love willis: I think up until he read the notes, he didn't have the full picture. From his perspective, willis leaves to do crime and then eventually gets caught and left forever. I think he blamed willis for making jason become "the man of the house" and have all this extra responsibility. Willis also strikes me as the type of parent who has trouble expressing feelings, so jason probably rarely, if ever, heard "I love you" from his dad. Willis also strikes me as the person who would believe that he needs to make his son stronger in order to survive, and there are a lot of parents like that, especially parents from a low income household or a history of poverty.

In conclusion, both parents were FAR from perfect parents, but they're not as evil or as innocent as people write them in fanon. They're just...people. fanon likes to write comic people as black or white, innocent or abusive, but in reality, It's a gray area. Willis had his flaws, I hc him as one of those old fashioned kind of dads who wants his son to be tough and strong and isn't good with sharing his feelings, but does truly care about his family and NEVER was abusive. Catherine was a mother who definitely cared about her family, but wasn't an innocent victim and had her own flaws.

Anyway, thank you for coming to my Ted talk

#jason todd #red hood #batfam #dc universe #dc comics #rhato rebirth #rhato #catherine todd #willis todd #batman #two face #dc penguin

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luna-writes-stuff · 6 months

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I Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing, Steve Harrington

Song link

Fanfic, fem! reader

Mutual pining, fluff

Word count: 3494

Tw: As a fellow introvert it pains me to tell you you are now going to prom. Sorry. There’s an f-bomb in here. Light cursing?? Idk have you even watched Stranger Things?

Summary: Steve was convinced he was only able to fall in love once, and that one love was Nancy Wheeler. And when all of that fell apart, he met you. He couldn’t explain how or why, but you were simply it for him. Never before had he been anxious to ask a girl out, so why were you so different? And how come Dustin knows more about flirting than he does?

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

“I could stay awake just to hear you breathing. Watch you smile while you are sleeping. While you're far away and dreaming.”

Steve has only been in love once - Nancy Wheeler. He had told himself this over and over again. He knew what it felt like, he knew what it was like. He knew what the difference was between liking and loving. And the only one he had truly loved was Nancy Wheeler. So, when she started dating Jonathan, his heart crumbled into a million little pieces. For once, he finally understood the girls at his high school who would spend their break wallowing away in bathrooms.

After that, he wouldn’t dare even look at others in a specific way. He was convinced he could only love one person his entire life. He’d never find something real after that. It was a terrifying melodramatic thought in his head that simply refused to leave.

He was at his lowest when he met you.

“I could spend my life in this sweet surrender. I could stay lost in this moment forever. Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure.”

How you had never caught his eyes, he couldn’t quite believe. For years, you had been in the same English class. Hell, you used to sit directly next to him for a handful of months. He was so blindly and foolishly in love with Nancy, he refused to see anything else for him out there. And where he had once blamed it on loyalty and fidelity, he could now only consider himself as stupid.

You were forced to work on a project together in your senior year, Steve’s final year of torment. He was too late to pair with familiar faces, and was left with the person behind him - you. A lucky coincidence.

It wasn’t anything special at first. You were simply a classmate. But when he failed to show up on agreed study times, or refused to form a normal conversation with you, you showed up at his doorstep. You barely even know him, yet you took the effort to seek him out - initially in pure anger, as this was supposed to be your grade as well, and he was screwing it up, but you afterwards considered this action to have been out of genuine caring. It wouldn’t take an expert to recognize that he had not been true to his prior years persona.

Reluctantly, he had allowed you in, trying to procrastinate as much as he could. You spent the evening properly introducing yourself. You talked about family, work, school, interests, and friends that would later appear to be somewhat mutual (Steve didn’t necessarily consider Jonathan his friend, but he at least knew him on certain terms.) Where you first appeared to be the stuck-up good grades student, he found that you were actually quite interesting to talk with. Even if your interests weren’t always related, he found himself relaxing around you.

“Don't wanna close my eyes. I don't wanna to fall asleep, 'Cause I'd miss you baby. And I don't wanna miss a thing.”

It took two weeks for him to shift slightly around you. He’d grown more comfortable, and had actually tried to put in some effort in your project. After the study dates, he’d treat you to a drink at a nearby snackbar on his way to your home. During classes - if they were shared -, he started seeking you out more. Sometimes, though rare, he’d sit at your table at lunch, ranting about a teacher or a test he just had.

It took two more weeks before he started changing again. To him, it came out of nothing. You had been at his place, discussing what you would be doing the final three weeks of your project, your voice passionate as you explained your plan, your hands following along with your speech enthusiastically. Then, it all clicked for him. There was no special thing you did that made it happen: no faces too nearby, no flirty laugh, no hesitant hug, no brief kiss on his cheek - it was simply you speaking about something you were excited about. And his heart skipped a beat at it. The feeling you’d get just before you go down a rollercoaster, or when your chair almost falls backwards - but then in a good way.

The last time he felt that was when Nancy winked at him from across the room. And that was last year. He knew the feeling, and it did not take him longer than a second to figure out what it was. He didn’t dare to say it, though. He might say the wrong thing, or do the wrong thing and something about that made him so scared. He’d never felt anxious to walk up to someone and simply confess how he felt. It came easy to him.

Not after that one stupid rant you did.

“'Cause even when I dream of you The sweetest dream would never do, I'd still miss you baby. And I don't wanna miss a thing.”

He wouldn’t speak of it to anyone. He hadn’t even told himself out loud yet. He told himself that if he’d speak it, it might disappear, or bring him bad luck. He cursed himself afterwards and scolded his mind for suddenly picking up superstition.

He’d try so badly to behave somewhat normal around you, and not as if his heart was beating way too quickly whenever you spoke his name or nudged his shoulder with your pen. In his eyes, he was doing a great job at it. He didn’t stutter once, nor did he forget his words. He didn’t sweat, didn’t act on emotion. He was completely nailing this.

He never noticed his staring. You had.

“Lying close to you, feeling your heart beating. And I'm wondering what you're dreaming. Wondering if it's me you're seeing.”

You had noticed it only a day after Steve’s realisation. Sure, he had shown interest in you, but they never included prolonged eye contact, nor the feeling of being watched over during classes. It was uncomfortable when it first started, but when he failed to do anything about the staring in a negative sense, you figured his mind had just been too preoccupied with other things and let it slide.

But every time you’d walk the halls, you swear Steve kept his eyes on you even after you had greeted him at the lockers. During breaks, he would constantly be throwing you looks, and you had to pretend to look at something else to not be creepy as well. He started walking you to your car, helping you carry school books, and saving you lunch.

You might not have been the smartest, but you weren’t oblivious. He didn’t do this for his other friends - which he had known way longer than he had known you. He wouldn’t even walk his ‘children’ friends outside school. And you might have understood him if he had done so. But he didn’t. Not with anyone except you.

But maybe you were thinking too much of it.

“Then I kiss your eyes And thank God we're together. And I just wanna stay with you in this moment forever. Forever and ever.”

“Steve,” Dustin urged. “Earth to Steve.” The boy in question only grunted in annoyance, reluctantly tearing his eyes from you and your friend group. “Dude, this is almost becoming creepy.” Dustin continued. “Just talk to her. You’re friends, right?” “Yes, Dustin,” Steve groaned. “We’re friends.” An aloud confirmation. To himself and to Dustin. You were just friends, sure.

“Friends don’t really stare at each other the entire time.” Rolling his eyes, Steve shook his head at the boy, giving him a pointed look. “I’m not looking at her the entire time.” “Maybe not, but when you’re not looking, she is.” That made his head spin around too fast, his eyes briefly meeting yours before they cast back to your friends.

“That’s totally normal,” Dustin emphasised. “Me and Mike make love-sick eyes at each other the entire time.” “Will you shut it?” Steve hissed, his face warm as he tried to look at the wall behind you. “I would, but all of this staring is making me sick.” “No one asked you to look.” “It’s impossible not to.”

“I don't wanna close my eyes. I don't wanna to fall asleep, 'Cause I'd miss you baby. And I don't wanna miss a thing.”

“She’s totally into you, you know that right?” Dustin prodded. “Shut up.” “No, I’m serious, man. She’s my babysitter and she talks about you all the time.” He exaggerated, a notion Steve was quick to catch onto, giving the younger boy an accusing look. “Okay, so, maybe I am the one who brings you up, but she is the one who starts laughing and talking all about how funny you are.” He defended, holding his hands up as he shrugged. And with those words, Steve was left speechless for just a short second.

“If you ask her out to prom, I can guarantee you, she’ll say yes.” Dustin hinted. “You’ll have the perfect ambiance - lights, music, clothes, and amazing company.” “Dude, you’re twelve.” Steve deadpanned, yet curiously thinking Dustin’s offer over. “I’m thirteen.” “Big difference.”

“If this is what growing up is like, I don’t want any part of it.” “No,” Steve finally agreed. “Trust me; you don’t.”

“Dude, you’re the king of Hawkins High,” Dustin tried to convince. “If you can’t ask a girl out, what are my chances?” Steve formed his lips in a thin line upon the words, shrugging aimlessly. Dustin’s hands found Steve’s biceps, clutching them tightly, taking him by surprise. “Give me hope, Steve.”

“Geez, man,” Steve muttered confused. “It’s not the end of the world.” “You’re right: it isn’t.” Dustin agreed, a sudden smile on his face. “So, talk to her.” Then, he turned the older boy around, forcing his eyes to suddenly fall on yours. Again, his face heated up at the contact, his eyes back on the wall behind you before yours could fall to the floor in a flustered mess.

“'Cause even when I dream of you The sweetest dream will never do, I'd still miss you baby. And I don't wanna miss a thing.”

He wanted to back away, let the weird thirteen-year-old he met last year down and swallow his pride to the depth of his stomach, but one of your friends had already noticed him, sparing him a wave before taking off with the rest of the group, leaving only you there. If he couldn’t even ask you when you were alone, what dignity did he have left?

And thus, with courage he did not know he had to muster up, he walked towards you, his heart wildly beating, screaming at him to turn around and hide while he still could. Stupid. That never happened before. It was scary - he hated it. Weak for a talk.

“You didn’t mention a little brother,” You began, trying to start a conversation as your eyes fell on Dustin, who had - not so casually - started paying a lot of attention to his shoes. Chuckling awkwardly, Steve shook his head. “No, he’s not my brother.” “Cousin?” “Weird kid that started following me around last year.” A quiet ‘ah’ of understanding escaped you as you nodded hesitantly. “Must have been quite the conversation you were having.” “You really don't want to know.” You laughed at this.

Stupid. Stupid heart skipping that stupid beat at your stupid smile.

“I don't wanna miss one smile. And I don't wanna miss one kiss. And I just wanna be with you Right here with you, just like this.”

Then, the silence came. You hadn’t shared those yet. You always had a lot to say, and if not, he would. But this was an uncomfortable silence. Granted, he had known you for five weeks, but he did not like this one bit. He felt as if he had gotten to know you better in five weeks than he had his other friends in four years. He didn’t even know if Tommy had a brother or a sister - or maybe it was both. He knew your entire family, though.

Dustin was right. That wasn’t normal for friends. Or at least - not for his versions of friends. He was interested in them, but not as much as he was in you. And that wasn’t just because you were generally pleasing to look at. It was important to him, though.

“Um, pretty,” Steve mumbled, not even realising what he had said. An unconscious notion of himself as he tried to fill the silence. It even startled him, his heart sinking slightly as he tried to cover it up. “Prom.”

Yes, there was no going back now.

“And I just wanna hold you close. I feel your heart so close to mine. And just stay here in this moment For all the rest of time.”

“Prom.” You nodded at him as he repeated his words. “Next month.” You reminded him, thinking he didn’t know the date. “Right, yes,” Steve agreed, grateful you hadn’t taken up his slip. “Do you plan on going?” You thought of it for a while. In truth, you had meant to be going with a friend, but she cancelled last week, claiming she’d rather take another friend who would be in town that week. You understood her - you might have done the same. But you weren’t going to show up to prom alone. Besides, staying home wouldn’t be the worst idea. Cinemas would likely be very empty that night. You might spend your evening there.

“I don’t think so.” You finally settled on. “Not?” “I was gonna go with a friend, but she cancelled.” “That’s lame, I’m sorry.” Steve tried to offer in sympathy, but you shook him off. “No, I don’t blame her. One of her long-distance friends will be in town, and she’d rather take her.” “Still,” Steve continued. “That must have sucked.” You lightly shook your head at him, a tiny grin on your face. “Yes, but it’s okay. I don’t hate her for it.”

Another silence. This time due to both of you thinking over your words. Stupid. He never had to do that before.

“Why?” You prodded playfully. “Planning to ask me yourself, Harrington?”

Yet again, his heart skipped a beat. Stupid.

“Don't wanna close my eyes. Don't wanna fall asleep, 'Cause I'd miss you baby. And I don't wanna miss a thing.”

“Only out of pity.” He covered up quickly, his eyes not deviating from yours once. “I’m the worst pity party.” You joked, to which he faintly found himself sparing a laugh. “I’d be happy to join it.” “Yeah, you would.” You replied sarcastically, nodding your head in humour.

A third beat of silence. Now, the pounding in his heart was begging for some action. One more silence and he might spontaneously combust. “What if I was?” He mustered out, his eyes falling back on the wall behind you. Looking behind you to see what he was looking at, you frowned lightly, forcing your eyes back to his face. “What if you were what?” “Planning to ask you to prom?” A deep falling of his heart. Stupid.

“I’d ask why you didn’t ask future prom queen Heather.” You replied after a handful of seconds, not sure how to respond to him. You’d be lying if you said your heart wasn’t copying his exact movements. “Because she’s fake.” He stated easily, causing you to gasp lightly, looking around to check if others were around. “Steve,” You scolded. “I’m serious,” He disclosed honestly. “She always pretends to feel bad for others, but she’s as much of a bully as she is narcissistic.”

You could join him and rant about this girl, but in truth, you barely even knew her. Part of it made you feel guilty. Thankfully, Steve caught on quickly: “Besides, I already rejected her.”

“'Cause even when I dream of you The sweetest dream would never do. I'd still miss you baby. And I don't wanna miss a thing.”

Mouth slacked open, you looked at him in surprise. Again, you didn’t really know the girl, but you knew her enough to be aware of her reputation. Or, more importantly, her looks. “You rejected Heather?” You asked confused, a feather light feeling entering your stomach. “Yeah, well, I’m not really one for dances, but I could make an exception.” Steve defended, trying to play it off cool. His exterior was doing a great job at it. Inside, whatsoever, it was pure rampage. His brain was scavenging for the right words or actions. He truly didn’t want to screw this up, but he had never felt this anxious around a person. If this would not be the moment, he didn’t know if it would ever come again.

Luckily, you did not notice the turmoil, and responded to his words before he could make a fool out of himself. “You’d make an exception for your study buddy?” You tested, still unsure whether he was joking or not. If he was, it was a cruel one. “You need those grades, don’t you?” “No.” He denied quickly, almost instantly. “I’d make an exception for a good friend. And all I need is just a little bit of your time.” “For what?” You asked, raising your eyebrows slightly.

Holding you, you idiot. Keeping you close, not tearing my eyes from you if I can help it. Maybe a little kiss here and there, light touches on your waist, repressing those stupid beats of my heart.

Instead, what came out was: “Dancing, duh.”

“I don't wanna close my eyes. I don't wanna fall asleep, 'Cause I'd miss you baby. And I don't wanna miss a thing.”

“I don’t have an outfit.” You avoided, slightly taken aback by his cool behaviour. Sure, you had learned his humour, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t expecting him to show just a little emotion and a positive response to your slightly high hopes. Then, he said something that truly took you aback.

“Wear this. You look beautiful in this too.” It was out before he could even stop it. He hadn’t even realised his brain had been forming these words. They just stumbled out. And when you went slack at them, he wanted nothing more than to dig his head into the nearest wall. “I’m-“ He tried to salvage, desperately stumbling over his words.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. This was exactly what he had been avoiding all this time and now his speech was failing him.

“I’m sorry, that was-“ No words managed to follow up that trail of thought, leaving you there, still wide-eyed. “Fuck.” He silently mumbled to himself, before just running with what he had slipped out. “You look perfect just like this.”

“Thank you.” You nearly whispered, your heart surely in your throat now. This was precisely what you wanted to hear, so why did you not know how to respond to it.

“Yeah, no problem.” Steve sighed helplessly.

“'Cause even when I dream of you The sweetest dream would never do, I'd still miss you baby. And I don't wanna miss a thing.”

“So, prom? With me?” He swallowed his dignity, saying his words as he had always meant them. No de-tours now. And at that, your courage began to build up again. “As friends?” You tested. “Maybe,” Steve answered. “Or, maybe, as a date.” A sigh of relief swept through you, the action not going unnoticed by Steve. He did not mention it however.

“It’ll be a hell of a first date.” You muttered, your happiness doing its best containing itself. “It doesn’t have to be.” Steve dismissed. Your hopes fell to the floor at that, afraid you had gotten ahead of yourself. Hadn’t he said it aloud? Hadn’t he proposed it had been a date?

“I heard the cinema is playing Gremlins tonight.” He interrupted your train of thought, a slight smile on his face. You copied it nearly immediately, more relief flooding your senses. And then, a sudden burst of confidence: “You know the purpose of the cinema is watching movies, right? Not me.” Hissing and nodding at your hint, his shoulders fell slightly. “Am I that creepy?” “At first, yes,” You admit honestly. “But it’s cute.”

Cute. Stupid.

“What time?” Having remembered the exact time for this perfect scenario, Steve perked up slightly. “Eight.” “Pick me up at seven-thirty,” You proposed. “You know where I live.” Then, you turned around, ready to head to your next classes. You spared him a light wave, before moving towards the halls. His eyes followed you until you were out of sight.

That stupid smile. Those stupid eyes. Your stupid voice. Your stupid humour.

You were going to be the death of him.

“Don't wanna close my eyes. I don't wanna fall asleep, And I don't wanna miss a thing.”

#november writings 2023 #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #joe keery

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