#(Nothing anyone says can change my mind on any of this either) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

endearng · 18 days ago

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Out of reach

Pairing: earlyseasons!Spencer Reid x hotchner!fem!reader Summary: You pull away from Spencer because of your jealousy. You go back to him after a few drinks in. WC: 9k A/N: fluff! pining! idiots/friends to lovers! alcohol consumption; spencer is a bit mean; reader doesn't communicate; hotch is a little older to have a daughter around spencer's age (do not come at me this is fiction). If I missed anything, please let me know! I had so much fun writing this one and it's now one of my favorites <3 masterlist

The jet was quiet as you and the BAU team made your way back from Los Angeles after successfully finding Lila Archer's stalker. The case had been a bit draining, after all, you've only been working with the FBI for a couple of months, and seeing dead bodies and all those other displays of violence was something you were still trying to get used to. Despite your sensitive nature, being Aaron Hotchner's daughter meant that you had mastered the art of a poker face through the years, not that it meant that your inner feelings were any less important. This is how you found yourself sitting all alone in a corner of the jet as everyone minded their own business. On any other day, you'd be sitting next to Dr. Spencer Reid, talking about whatever it was that could get your mind off the case you had just wrapped up. Spencer and you were friends, some would even say the best of friends, but you didn't mind about naming things — what mattered the most is that you got to be yourself around him and you didn't bother hiding behind the Hotchner glare, as he once put it.

Despite being unknown territory for you, after all, feelings and all that were protected by a deeply analytic and practical mind, you knew what you were feeling. Well, you were analyzing your reactions to check what had actually happened — and the thing is, you couldn't admit, not even to yourself, what that sinking feeling in your chest when you watched Spencer saying goodbye to Lila was. Amid your analysis, Spencer quietly approached you, silently motioning to the seat next to you. You nodded, shutting every single thought of him. Or at least, trying.

"Hi."

Hotch glare. "Hi, Reid."

Spencer felt nervous. He had never been on the receiving end of your… wrath before, so it was unknown territory and he didn't know how to act. His racing heart and clammy palms weren't helping him, either. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Listen, um, you... can... can we talk?" The stammering. Way to go, Spencer.

Glancing at him, ignoring the skip in your heartbeat, you nodded. "Yeah. Is everything alright?" A firm, secure tone. You mentally patted yourself on the back.

"You're a little distant... and—and I got a bit worried. Did... Did something happen?" He wanted to kick himself. What kind of person can't hold a serious conversation without stuttering like an idiot? Get a grip, Reid.

"No, Reid. Everything is alright. I'm just... thinking." You said.

Bullshit. You both knew that. Spencer, on the other hand, didn't know why it was bullshit. But he knew it was.

"Are you sure?" He asked, leaning towards you, almost invading your personal space and he shut his eyes before delivering the next question, "Is... I haven't done anything to upset you? Right?"

You took a second to answer him, willing your voice to stay still and the knot in your throat to go away. "No. It's nothing you've done. It's just... it's on me." You gave him a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes — that's when he knew something was definitely wrong.

He nodded, but he was still worried by your sudden change of behavior, especially towards him. It was like he was anyone else, again. And, God, he didn't want that. "What is it, then? You can talk to me, you know. We're best friends."

Best friends.

The words felt bitter on his tongue. The sound of them broke your heart all over again.

Best friends. "Right. Yeah. I know." You said, quietly, and it felt a little lifeless to him. He clenched his hand, fighting the urge to touch you, to ask you what was truly bothering you. "Thanks for offering."

Spencer felt conflicted. If he didn't say anything and didn't push you to speak, you would probably bury whatever it was that you were feeling and it would lead him into being even more worried about you. If he did, you would probably snap at him because of his undesired, bothersome insistence. "It's nothing." He said, defeatedly. "Can you just... Do you promise it's not me?"

Your heart ached and you smiled at him, a tiny, faint, barely there smile. He was so adorable, sometimes. "I'm just upset over something else. Don’t worry. You didn't do anything wrong." You finished, trying to convince yourself that he had not, indeed, done something wrong.

And he didn't. He didn't. You and Spencer, despite your proximity and sometimes incredibly ambiguous relationship, hadn't said anything about deeper feelings towards one another. You let yourself admire him, lovingly, from afar, and were happy with the snippets of attention you had from him when you two had some free time. You two were regulars in the coffee shop near his apartment and, by now, the local librarian, Mrs. Jones, could probably fake your signature from how often you two went there to borrow books. She would watch you two behind the bookshelves, whispering excitedly and curiously to each other about whatever suggestions you were getting from each other. As you missed Spencer's longing glances to read a summary, Mrs. Jones smiled to herself, both at how adorable you two were and how oblivious you were. In museums, you would sit down after some time walking around to his explanations of art and historical movements that impacted the expression of a certain age — you pretended to not know a few things, just so he could speak his heart away and not be interrupted by your own contributions.

You kept silent to make him happy.

Which was exactly what was happening now.

Spencer knew, for sure, that you were hiding something from him. But he also knew that he had no right to force it out. He fidgeted awkwardly, not knowing what to do with his hands, his heart still clenching. “But, but... you’d come to me if you needed help, right?”

You nodded, unable to speak. You knew you were wrong, omitting things from him. Just as the guilt was starting to weigh in your heart, Derek passed by you two with a magazine in his hands, throwing it at Spencer, exclaiming, "My man!"

You looked down, already knowing what it was. Spencer was a mess beside you: blushing, stuttering, avoiding your and Derek's gaze and throwing the magazine as far as he could, like it had burned him. Your reaction was a subtle twitch of your lips, not in amusement, but in need to disguise the pang in your heart. You both spent the rest of the flight sitting in silence, simply being in each other's orbit. You, guiltily. Spencer, worriedly.

Your reaction — or lack of — was staggering to Spencer. He thought you two were getting somewhere, despite your closed off nature and demeanor, he thought he was finally cracking you up. Everyday was torture, seeing you walk through the bullpen's glass doors with your professional clothes and your composed figure. It was torture to see you walk around so prettily and serious, holding his bare heart in your hands, and not even realizing it. By now, he lived and thrived on those rare opportunities you had to spend time together as he became more and more covered in you.

As the jet landed and Spencer walked out to talk to Derek, you pettily made sure to step on Lila Archer's face when leaving the jet in sheer frustration.

Back to the bullpen, you had gone to the restroom to splash some water on your face in order to calm your nerves and to tell yourself that it was only a matter of time until things got back to normal — until you got back to normal. Glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you wondered if Spencer could tell that there was something wrong with you, if you had let any of your feelings slip during your short conversation. The version of you that stared back was as impassible as you ever were. As you made your way to your desk in the dimly lit sea of desks, you caught Spencer and Derek talking, both having their backs to you.

Sighing, you just left the headquarters, not wanting to know what they were discussing, or rather, knowing what they were discussing, but unwilling to stay, even if it would quench your curiosity as to what Spencer had been thinking.

Maybe you didn't want to know the answer.

—

The days went by, cases coming left and right, flights making you almost dizzy — not that you would admit, but you were terrified of heights. Between those and your training, you barely had time to think about Spencer and the entire Lila occasion. You spent your days busy with work, studies and physical training in order to keep your mind away from that, but as you lay awake at night, the memories would come back to haunt you relentlessly to the point you had recurring dreams of them. Together, as you watched from the sidelines. You kept to yourself, slipping further and further away from Spencer.

Reid, on the other hand, felt your absence more than anyone. You took a rain check on all the invitations he made, even when he invited you to movie night, when he would definitely choose a Russian movie because you mentioned once how you liked how the language sounds. There wasn't any more donuts on his desk as he arrived in the morning (he would always joke that you and your father secretly lived in the headquarters and that someday he would see Haley bringing your groceries to the secret house), and there was no one for him to throw his paper airplanes, small flashcards with the Russian phonological alphabet, at. The change in your behavior was absurdly clear to everyone: you barely called or texted him anymore, you didn't look his way when someone told a joke to check if he thought it was funny... He was sulking, to say the least. Upon questioning you, you blamed your lack of free time and as he was going to question you further, you said in a teasing tone that not everyone was like him and that the FBI was actually making you go through all the training phases.

Finally, during the end of a particularly frustrating workday, he finally snapped, grabbing your arm before you could enter the elevator. It was only you and him in the otherwise empty hallway. "Ok. What's been going on? And don't," he said, closing his eyes, "don't dance around the subject. Don't say it's the Academy. Don't say you have to work. Don't. Please, be honest with me."

The exasperation in his eyes and in his tone almost broke the wall that hid your true feelings, but as you glanced at him, you figured you couldn't do it. Be honest? What for? To hear that you're nothing more than his best friend? Losing said friend was not an option, not to you, at least. But you also knew that you weren't treating him right, that keeping him out was not at all fair to him, that leaving him in the dark was as hurtful as it would be to lose him.

Breathing deeply, you answered with the same stoic expression you wore every single damn day. "I told you, Reid. People go through different, busier times in their lives." The lie tasted like acid.

Spencer clenched his teeth, frustration and confusion beginning to override some of his social anxieties. “That! That!” He asked through clenched teeth, his gaze intense.

"That what?" You asked, puzzled.

"You... you stopped calling me 'Spence'—not that you did it often, you did it more when we were all alone, and it... it sucks! It sucks because I don't know what happened or what I did that was so wrong to make you stop liking me!"

Come on, just say something! Get angry, get sad, get something!, his mind screamed.

"I never stopped liking you," you said, looking away from him. His words hit a particular spot that you were totally willing to discover later, but the mere thought that he knew that you liked him more than as a friend made you shiver.

"That's not the point! Or—or rather, it is! Because if you didn't stop liking me, why would you act like you did?" He asked, his tone rising a bit.

"Calm down."

"Calm down? I will not calm down!" He almost yelled. His eyes widened slightly, disbelief clear in his features and tone, not to mention the frustration. "Just. Please.” He said, closing his eyes, willing himself to tone it down, not that it worked... “Tell me what you're thinking, what happened to you! For once! Any normal person would react and stop acting like an emotionless robot!"

You gaped like a fish out of water, taking a small step back, his words digging a hole in your heart. Upon hearing his own words and noticing you distancing yourself from him, all the anger vanished from his body. The widened eyes were a sign of realization of what he had said to you. During the early months of friendship, you had confided in him that you struggled with portraying emotion like others normally did. Maybe it had something to do with growing up with a father who did it so perfectly when he was out of the house. When he wasn't actively playing the ‘dad’ part, Aaron Hotchner would wear an unreadable mask like it was his armor, his defense from the outer world, but as soon as he got home, he was back to his main role. You would watch him with his coworkers and mimic him perfectly to make him laugh. At some point, making fun of and imitating his demeanor had become some serious form of self-defense for you. Spencer, then, joked that you were making your way to the perfect job, but then he had gotten serious and told you that it wasn't a flaw. That it wasn't a problem that you kept deeply to yourself sometimes — that it was okay to be yourself around him. You had felt safe by his side since then.

But now, what did those words mean? Were they lies?

He breathed out your name, softly, "I... I... I'm sorry."

"Just drop it," you replied, pushing the elevator button. Your dismissive tone and your action of leaving made Spencer feel utterly desolate, like he had done the wrongest thing in the world and perhaps he had, but he just wanted you to let him in. For once, he wanted to have the answers from your lips, not spend any more time analyzing your every single action and words...

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"You know, Spencer…" he looked up at you when he heard his name, as you held out an arm to hold the elevator doors open. As if thinking better than to say anything, you sighed and turned to enter the elevator, shaking your head with the most disappointed look he had ever seen on your face.

Spencer tried looking at you one last time before the elevator doors closed, and despite your face being as unreadable as it often was, he saw a flicker of sadness that stung his heart more than he liked to admit. If he hadn't done anything wrong before, now he had utterly fucked everything up.

—

The drive home, for Spencer, was a torture. He knew that he had to pay attention to the road ahead of him, to the other vehicles and drivers, but his mind kept drifting to the last glimpse of you back in the headquarters. Your empty eyes appeared behind his eyelids every time he pressed his eyes closed. He willed himself not to cry, to not blur his vision, taking his frustration out on the steering wheel, where his grip was so tight that his knuckles turned white. As he parked his car and looked up to one of his windows, he remembered you. Because of course he would remember you.

The sight was almost comical, to be honest. You, clad in one of the suits that fitted you so well, sitting on his windowsill, a cup of green tea in hands as you stared out the window, trying to analyze every single drop of rain before it reached somewhere outside your vision range. The funny thing was that you had no shoes on, instead, Spencer lent you a mismatched pair, not being one used to having people over, he didn't have a pair of spare slippers. Then, you sat there with a dinosaur-pattern sock on one foot and a striped-pattern sock on the other.

Spencer, sitting on his sofa and holding his own cup (he had let you choose your mug and stayed quiet when you pointed quietly at his favorite), smiled to himself. It was weirdly calming seeing you out of your character, doing something so... human.

"I can feel you staring, you know," you said. And your tone was almost... teasing?

"Right. Sorry." He said, looking down at his steaming tea.

"I'm not scolding you," you said, turning to look at his direction with a grin.

"Right, no—heh..." he replied, bashfully, cheeks reddening at the sight of your smile.

If only you knew... how many hours he would lay awake at night, as thoughts swirled in his head, how everything seemed to shut down at the thought of you. How he would fall asleep to the wish of being on the receiving end of one of your rare smiles, how he appreciated that you were always the first one he talked to upon his arrival at the headquarters. How... how he would do anything for you to look at him under a different light.

Seemingly out of nowhere, you giggled. Everything stopped.

Spencer.exe has stopped working.

"Heheh—I guess... It's not everyday you get to see a Hotchner so out of its—heheh—habitat." You quipped, looking at him with a smile on your face.

Suddenly, Spencer lost his voice. The connection between his brain and his tongue, which felt heavy, disappeared. Completely speechless, eyes slightly wide at the sound of your laughter. It made you laugh a bit more, but when his stare and open mouth got too much to handle, you looked down at your feet, wiggling your toes to distract yourself from the intensity of his gaze full of awe. Then, Spencer got back to his senses, smiling at you as you missed it to look away in embarrassment.

Spencer blinked away the tears and left his car, entering his apartment. As he took off his shoes, he let the tears fall at the sight of your windowsill.

—

Meanwhile, you were getting wasted at some bar. Not just any bar, but the one you usually went with Spencer when you were feeling daring and wanted a change from the places where you both used to go to. You were a bit of a lightweight, so a couple of drinks were enough for you to start playing trivia with Spencer and let your gaze linger for longer, basking in the sight of him so carefree, having fun with you.

Upon your arrival, the bartender that usually took care of your orders, MJ, greeted you with a smile. When she saw no one was joining you, she frowned. "Good evening, Hotch. Where's loverboy?"

You sent her a look, but since you were letting your guard down, after all, there were no acquaintances or friends around, you didn't know if the look came out as a glare or if you looked like a kicked puppy. She snorted. "Gee... That bad, huh?" She asked, and you didn't answer again, though you muttered a soft thanks, MJ when she gave you your go-to drink.

And it turned into two drinks. Three. Four...

(MJ was now giving you alcohol-free drinks, too worried for your well-being. You and Spencer started to grow on her as you two kept coming back.)

You rested your chin on your left hand while you traced patterns with your right index finger on the counter. MJ was eyeing you suspiciously, drying a few glasses with a washcloth. "He kissed another girl." You admitted, quietly.

"No way." She gasped.

"Way."

"But... I thought you two were a thing." MJ was baffled, placing down the objects she was holding in sheer shock. "I always thought you two were like... together for years."

"We were a thing.... I think, at least... I don't know, MJ." You sighed, tucking a stray of hair behind your ear. Looking up at her, hazy eyes taking in her focused expression, you sniffled, "we were on this case and then he met a girl and then the next moment the two of them were making out in a pool. In a freaking pool."

She tsked, anger flashing in her eyes, "I swear, those nerdy guys are the worst."

"Yeah..." You muttered, fiddling with your straw. "Can I have another one?"

She pursed her lips, but she relented. Then, as she handed you the liquid, a guy sat next to you. Did he look like Spencer or were you already hallucinating?

"Hi. I'm Dave. Can I buy you a drink...?" He asked with a small smile, wanting to know your name.

No, not Spencer. It’s cool.

"Hi, I..."

MJ cut you off. "Hey, Dave, I think she had too much to drink already."

They exchanged looks and it took you a minute to feel offended by her interruption and knowing you were perfectly capable of speaking for yourself, but realizing you would probably have to entertain a stranger, you felt grateful for it.

Dave left with a sour smile. "Thanks." You muttered, again, looking at MJ.

"Do you need me to get you a cab, honey?"

"That would be great." You said, placing money bills to pay for your drinks and the tip.

MJ looked around to spot someone to keep an eye on the bar as she led you out of the place, hand never leaving your shoulder. As she called a cab, she made you stand on only one leg to make sure you weren't gonna need her to go with you. You scoffed, but obeyed her all the same, with a low snicker. As you two waited for the cab driver, a woman who MJ trusted with her life (and her favorite regulars), you tried to make conversation to make up for embarrassing yourself by talking about Spencer with someone. How pathetic.

"So, what does MJ stand for?"

She chuckled, shaking her head at you and at your dazed eyes. "That's classified information."

"I'm familiar with that."

The cab driver, Paula, arrived. She greeted the both of you with a smile and a cheerful good evening! As you entered the vehicle, you rolled the windows down and pressed the subject further, "Seriously, is it Mary Jane or were your parents more creative?"

She rolled your eyes at you, shaking her head. "It's Mary Jane. MJ because who would take me seriously?"

You smiled. "I like the shoes!"

Paula started driving slowly, just to let other drivers drop their own passengers, as you were lost in your own little world, serious expression taking over your face again, not wavering, as you delved deeper into the whirlwind of thoughts plaguing your head. Paula, looking at you through the rear-view mirror, asked, "Is everything okay, honey?"

You buckled your seatbelt. "Yes, yes. Just... keep driving slowly, please."

"Where to?"

Only then you realized you never gave her an address. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you gave her Spencer's, telling her you were going home.

—

An unknown number had sent Spencer a couple of messages.

[8:32 p.m.] Lovergirl is here, drinking all by herself.

[8:32 p.m.] Water, but still. I'm not having her passed out without you here.

[8:40 p.m.] Sent her home, people were starting to approach.

Throughout the time he had spent with you at the bar, the two of you exchanged numbers with MJ in case she needed your help — you know, being FBI agents and whatnot. But Spencer didn't need to see her name to know it was her and she was talking about you; 'lovergirl' and 'passed out without you here' gave him clue enough. His stomach tied in knots when he read that people were starting to approach her, the nagging feeling that the image conjured in his mind was making him feel almost sick, then, it hit him like a truck: Lila Archer.

Their… case? was as fleeting as a careless glance. To be honest, Spencer accepted her advances to spite you for having such power over him, even if unknowingly so. The young agent felt like you were so out of his league, so out of reach — you were all that pile of confidence and stoicism and pure lusciousness and everything to him. And he was a young guy who truly had barely been kissed so far. How could he approach you, charm his way into your heart, especially when you barely bared it? With Lila, it was... nice. Easy, even. It was nice being wanted, to be able to read her intentions and desires like a children's book. With you, it was a tantalizing challenge, one he was, for the first time, struggling with. It was not like having a high-school crush, not like pining over the untouchable girls that would catch his interest as he grew older. No. This was something new. You had hit him deeper than ever or anyone before.

Plus, as much as he hated to admit it, he gave room to the anxious thoughts regarding your father as well. Would it affect his relationship with his superior? Would it affect your relationship with your father? Spencer felt dizzy just by the mere thought of ruining something uniquely yours. No, he couldn't impose himself on your life like that. It was mean, it was wrong, it was immoral.

To want, to desire, is to be selfish.

It was a bold assumption. To think you were jealous of him. Nevertheless, the signs were all there, had been all along. He was just dumb and scared enough of making assumptions.

A barely there, faint sound of a knock on his door made Spencer fly out of his bed, dropping his phone on the bedroom floor, but he didn't pick it up. He had a suspicion as to who could be knocking on his door, but he was too scared of assuming anything. Again. Opening the door, he saw you, breathing a bit heavily. The stairs, he supposed. You always complained about them. Once you exchanged looks, Spencer’s surprised one and your earnest one, you asked, "Do you really think I'm a robot?"

Shit. He could feel his heart breaking in a million little pieces. The insecure edge of your voice and words made him squeeze his eyes shut; in his mind, he was kicking himself simultaneously as he sank down to his knees, on your feet, begging you to forgive and forget his dumb, stupid, frustrated, unrealistic words.

"No," he breathed out, wincing, almost as if he was in physical pain. "I—I didn't mean to talk about you like that. I was..."

"Frustrated?"

He nodded, silently, eyes never leaving your face. Your speech, albeit way out of the ordinary that he was used to, was flawless. If not by the dilated pupils and the faint smell of alcohol, not to mention MJ's texts, he would dare to say you were perfectly sober. "I was, too." You admitted, looking down.

Spencer made way for you to enter his apartment. He watched as you kicked your shoes off. The sight, that had become as common as the act of breathing, made his way flutter. You intended on staying. Or so he hoped. You walked further into the place, noticing everything as it ever was, as if you hadn't been to his apartment for some time now. "You must be thinking why I'm here," you said, moving to sit on the couch and mentioning him to sit on the small coffee table in front of you, as if you owned the place, and not him.

Perhaps it was true.

He closed the door once you were inside, hesitating for a moment before joining you. He kept noticing things about you; the way you were walking, the way you could barely look him in the eye, the way you looked… “How much did you have to drink?” He asked, quietly.

"Not much. You know I don't usually drink because I can’t hold my drinks. And I'm sure MJ was giving me plain water at some point." You said, looking up at him. Well, at least, your speech flawlessly delivered, even though you were moving a bit more… disoriented than usual. She's totally a Hotchner.

"I... I am," he started, sitting in front of you carefully. "I... I'm sorry. It's just... You've never been so distant. I guess that I was mean to you to elicit some reaction."

Your analytical gaze softened upon his confession. You needed to give him some break, be a little easy on him. Well, easier than you were being as of lately. Nodding lightly, you added, "I'm here to apologize, too. I know... I know that I pushed you away and I made you think that... that that was your fault. It's not."

He froze. No, he wouldn't have you taking the blame for how his actions caused you to react. He looked up at you, reaching out a hand to touch your intertwined ones, "It is."

"Hear me out. Please." You said, lowly, not breaking eye contact. This was so hard, and you had never felt so afraid before. How ironic — to be afraid of being brave. "I... I guess that by now you know why I pulled away."

"I do," he admitted, nervously. "It took me some time, but I... I think I figured you out."

You looked down, embarrassed. It was overwhelming for him to see you portray such different and so many emotions all at once. To you, it was as agonizing as it was freeing. "Well, yes. So... It, um, it wasn't fair. We... we are not something. We are not a thing."

His heart, doing all the thinking and feeling, nearly stopped. As if it wasn't enough, you kept on going, "I'm sorry, I truly am, for how I behaved and how I made you feel by being absent. It's... it's not my place. You have your own life, Reid. I can't be upset with you for making decisions. You're a grown man..." you sighed, glancing at every direction but at him. "I know that I'm wrong, okay? And I know that I shouldn't have pushed you away, nor should I have kept my feelings from you."

Spencer drew in a long breath. He didn't know what to say, but you couldn't be more wrong. All at once, he wanted to scream, but he didn't know what ro say; he wanted to run, but he didn't want to leave you alone — not for a second. He didn't ever want you out of his sight; he didn't want to be the one you were apologizing to, hell, he wanted everything to be okay between them, but it was nice that she was talking to him, finally.

"I..."

Every time he thought he could say something, words failed him. Then, you took it as another opportunity to word-vomit everything you've been feeling. "I was... I was jealous. I didn't like to see that. I didn't like that it happened. But I also know that I have no right to be upset with you because you're single and she's attractive and you're both consenting and willing to do whatever you please, so..." You shrugged as if speaking those words aloud didn't stab new holes in your heart.

Spencer looked at you, totally speechless. It made you snicker. And speak further. Shut up, you idiot. Please, please, please! "And, ah—hahahah—I guess I am, indeed, a bit of a robot because it took me a bit of alcohol to pluck up the courage to come here and totally—hic—destroy our friendship by telling you I love you so much; that I'd hate to see you with anyone other than me. It happened and I hated it. It still stings."

Spencer's heart threatened to fail once again. Your giggles, your words, your confession... His mind completely short-circuited. She loved him. She loved him? She loved him?!?!???!!! That’s what she’d just said, apparently. Okay, calm down. And she’d been jealous. She didn’t like him kissing another woman, because she fucking loved him. Say something, you dumb idiot, his brain shrieked. Say something!

You parted your lips to say something else, but apparently decided against it. Another beat of silence of Spencer staring dumbly at you. "I'm going," you blurted out, standing up.

Spencer, at breakneck speed, stood up as well to stop you from walking away, placing his hands tentatively on your shoulders. Your bodies were now apart by mere inches. "No." His voice was so small and pained that you sat back down.

Despite your apparent willingness, your next words told him about your turmoil. "Why would I stay, Spencer? I've been pouring my heart out to you and you haven't said a thing."

Looking at you, so bare and so vulnerable, Spencer suddenly had flashbacks from when he had lashed out on you earlier and simultaneously fought the feelings that were bubbling inside of him upon your confession. Couldn't you see the sheer shock on his face? Couldn't you see that he was battling against every single bit of self restraint not to pull you into his embrace and make you believe him when he would tell you that you were the only woman for him?

Sure, he had dreamed of you saying those words to him countless times as time went by and you two got closer. Shit, he literally dreamed of it. Of you. Speaking sweet nothings to him... He broke out of his daze, realizing that he was deadly silent, "Don't go..."

"Then say something. I'm here. Not as Hotch's daughter, not as your coworker, not as a part of the team you work with. I'm here as the woman in whose heart you've grown over the last few months. I'm terrified of your answer and you keep depriving me of it." There was a hint of annoyance and hurry on your voice, and he could understand you, he truly could. He just didn't... he lost his voice when he looked at you.

Saying your name softly, he beginned, “I said stupid, untrue things, and I’m sorry. I’m a jerk, and I know that I’m a jerk and—" You quirked your eyebrow and he took a deep breath, trying to cut his rant. "Just... don't sit there and think that I have nothing to say."

"Have you said it?" You pressed it, quirking an eyebrow.

"No." He admitted, widening his eyes a bit as he realized his mistake.

At the same time, you shot, "Not saying something is also an answer for me—"

"—but not for the reasons you're thinking! Do you know how hard it is for me right now?" Spencer was starting to sound very desperate and pathetic, not to mention the fact that he wasn't answering your questions.

Deep breaths (from both ends).

"Look, Reid..." He glared at you upon hearing his last name. "I think I should go home. You and I clearly need some space—"

"What we need to do is talk."

You sighed. "Then why won't you give me an answer?"

Silence.

"You won't even remember this in the morning."

At that, you deemed yourself utterly defeated. This was useless. "I'm sorry I came over. I'm... I'll just go, okay? Please, don't be upset about tonight. I apologize in advance."

The sight of her, once more shying away from him and turning to escape from him, was making Spencer frustrated, with himself, to no end. His heart clenched at your apology, to which he shook his head vehemently. The thing is, he wanted to get ready to answer you, properly, just like he always had some trick up his sleeve or some funny or curious fact to blurt during the most random moments. Spencer was good at speaking, but only when the speech was already ingrained into his mind, something he had read or rehearsed before. Plus, he was sure your state of drunkenness would stop you from remembering that moment.

Spencer dashed to his door, barely stopping you. No, no, no, no, no... She can't leave. This might be my only chance. "You're not going anywhere."

"Excuse me?"

"Stay with me. I don't want you to go." He said, softly, slowly, looking straight into your eyes. It made you dizzy. Either that or the alcohol.

"No?"

"Y-you're drunk and I... I don't think it's safe for you to go by yourself and it's late and... and..." he trailed off, nervously, desperate to get you to stay.

"I'm not drunk."

"You're not fooling me. You might be as concise as ever but you're not sober. Stay."

"Promise... promise you won't be upset with me?"

His heart dropped, heavy with guilt. And with love for you. "I promise."

Spencer silently led you back to the couch, gingerly holding your hand. He felt dazzled, speechless, desperate, frustrated, all at once. But your touch was starting to ground him back to reality, where you were real, having confessed your feelings for him, and he was a mess, not even being able to say anything back. Without much thinking, he said, "You should stay over tonight."

"Okay... I'll take the couch."

"As if I'd let you sleep on the couch."

"It's okay."

"Stop... stop acting like I sent you away."

You kept silent. You felt like he did. Through his touch, he hoped to get you to understand that his feelings were a mess, but they existed, and they were real, and they were yours. "That'd be alright with me, you know. Taking your couch. I think I would sleep better on your floor than I would ever in my bed. To... to say that anything is better if you're somehow involved."

His stomach made a flip-flop. Brain short-circuited again. You yawned, as if you had just made an annoying comment on the weather.

"Are you tired?" He managed to mutter.

"I am."

"Come on. Let's get you to bed."

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'? I'm not letting you on the couch. Come on."

"I can't go to your bed with outside clothes." You booped his nose.

He chuckled lowly, confused a little by your words. "Are you seriously worried about clothes?"

"You don't like germs. That's why I removed my shoes."

Okay, he thought, if I manage to put her to sleep without having a heart attack, I definitely don't need a cardiologist's appointment because it would mean I'm that strong.

"Y-you... remembered?" Damn it, Reid. Stop stuttering.

You sighed, tiredly, and rested your head on his shoulder, looking down at his hand holding yours. "I remember everything about you."

"You do?"

"Yes. Fortunately or unfortunately."

Spencer was too stunned to speak. Too stunned, too dumb, too afraid. Damn it. Damn it. He couldn't stop cursing internally. He forced himself to pull you towards his bedroom and even though he still sensed some uncertainty, he kept going. Reaching for a pair of sweatpants and a big t-shirt, he gave those to you. "You can change into these," as he left the room to make you more comfortable.

"Wait!" You almost shrieked.

"What happened?" He prompted, worriedly, reaching a hand out to touch your arm.

"I don't want you to go."

He bit back a sigh. "I'll be just outside."

"Just... stay here?"

"I can't—" he interrupted himself, just turning around so his back was to you instead. At that, he looked up at his ceiling and prayed to any deity to let him survive that night.

He could hear the sounds of your movements. The zipper being undone, the soft ruffling of the fabric as you tugged your shirt up your head... He was imagining your exposed skin, every perfect inch, how would you look without all those clothes that suited you so nicely, how would it be to touch you, to run his fingertips all over your heated skin, how would it be to kiss every freckle on your body, to—"Done."

Turning around, the sight was adorable, which made him somewhat guilty of his early impure thoughts. "I feel like Alice when she shrunk into a tiny human."

He couldn't fight the smile at your words. He led you to his bed, where you laid on your back on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling. Spencer left you briefly to get you a glass of water and some painkillers to leave by the bedside table. You thanked him with a silent glance. As he turned to leave, once again, you said in a small voice, almost phrasing it like a question, too afraid of the answer. "Stay."

"I'll take the couch."

"You asked me to stay, thrice, I guess… And I did. I asked you once and you did. I still have a few requests left. I'm keeping tabs."

He relented, laying next to you and placing a pillow between you two. You breathed out a chuckle and he shook his head, clearly knowing where your mind had gone to. He placed his hand on top of the pillow, offering his comfort, and then you tentatively placed yours on top of his. He grinned to himself.

It was hard for him to wrap his head around what had happened that night. He knew his words — or lack of — could be read the wrong way and you possibly did, but he also hoped that his actions were speaking louder. Just as he was getting lost in thought again, he heard your voice once more.

"Spence?"

That damned nickname.

"Thanks for, um, being so respectful. Not that I don't think you'd be. But, um, as you've said, I'm drunk. And I told you I love you. And you're simply holding my hand." He gulped. He was keeping count, too, of how many times you said you loved him. Twice, so far, but he wanted so much more, endlessly. He wanted to lose track. "I guess... that makes me love you even more," you finished, crushing his heart between your palms, voice thick with sleep.

When he finally turned his head to look at you, your eyes were closed and you looked peaceful, drifting off to sleep. Then, when he was sure you were actually asleep, he stood up from his bed, grabbing a pillow and a spare blanket to lay on the floor.

"I'll gladly sleep on my floor if it means I get to have you around, too..."

—

Spencer didn't get any sleep.

He tossed and turned on the floor all night long, both because his carpet was not the most comfortable spot to sleep on, but also and mostly because there was no way in hell his mind stopped working. All through the night, Spencer fought the urge to shake you awake to ask if this was real, if you really loved him, if the words that slipped through your lips were in fact your feelings towards him. Despite his curiosity and eagerness, he let you sleep, figuring that he had already put you through too much already. As you slept, a movie played on his mind: your moments together, your confession of love, and overthinking the words we are not something. We are not a thing. He feared that you would wake up and realize how badly he had screwed up and decide not to want him anymore. Yes, he was that anxious.

You, on the other hand, even though confused by his lack of answer to your heart’s words, felt lighter than ever by speaking out your truth (the booze did help you a lot, though). Being as analytical as you were had its perks. One of them is that you never let yourself suffer too much for too long, too attached to reality to care much about the rest. So what if he rejected you? Life goes on — and that’s what you thought with every other loser that you caught yourself thinking too much of. Spencer, though… Who were you kidding? Spencer was Spencer. And that meant the world… It wasn’t so bad, if he actually rejected you… you’d only have to face him every day, until the rest of your lives, doomed to work together, cursed to think and rethink all over again small, fleeting moments such as an exchange of longing glances.

(You felt strangely calm due to your touch with reality. Maybe, just maybe, you were hoping for the best based on his care with and for you. But boy, were you ready to give him a piece of your mind.)

As your eyes fluttered open, you stretched your limbs on an unfamiliar bed with too much space. Upon your confusion, the memories came back with full force. You jolted, sitting down, searching for him — and, to be honest, not wanting to find him. The house was deadly silent, so you tried to trick yourself that you were sure he wasn't there. You dashed to the bathroom, taking a quick shower to get rid of the shame and the faint reek of alcohol. As you moved around his stuff, you couldn't help but think that you were so familiar with his things that it was almost like you belonged there. Sigh. It turns out that hiding emotions is easier than feeling them, especially their extremes.

As soon as you finished putting on your own clothes, you stopped dead in your tracks as you heard footsteps outside the bedroom. You froze, not knowing what to say. Or do.

Spencer entered the room, holding a tray meticulously organized with some food on it. “Morning. I, um, made you breakfast.” Because of course he would make you fucking breakfast.

“Morning,” you replied awkwardly and hoarsely. Maybe you cried a little bit, who knows… “Thanks, you didn't have to.”

“I did.”

You take your time to get a good look at him. He had bags under his eyes that appeared to be tired. The sight made your heart drop. “I'm sorry…”

“Don't be.”

“But I was wrong.”

“So was I.”

“But—”

“Last night you said some things. Do you, uh, do you remember what you told me?” You nodded, unable to speak. “Do you remember what you told me?” He repeated, trying to get a verbal answer from you.

“Yes, Spencer. I remember.”

“Can you listen to what I have to say now?”

You nodded, weakly.

“I didn't say anything because… because everything had gone in the most opposite direction they could've gone.” He said, approaching you calmly. “I was up the entire night, hoping to find the right words to tell you that would make you believe me after I… was stupid. I… First, I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I know you said that we're nothing, that we weren't something, that we didn't have anything… but… but you're everything to me.” At that, your eyes finally met his. The intensity of your gaze made him shudder, but he kept going. “All the time we've spent together was nothing compared to what I want to have with you… and… and… God! Do you have any idea of the torture I was put through with you? Constantly thinking of what we could be, what we should be, too scared of your reaction or that—that—that Hotch decided to chop off my neck because he found out that I was crushing on his only daughter!”

At the mention of your dad, you burst out laughing. Seriously? That was such a cliché! “Hey! I'm serious!”

“I'm sorry…” You bit your bottom lip, fighting the urge to laugh at him some more. He was adorable.

“As I was saying,” he continued, trying to sound annoyed, but a hint of a smile threatened to break on his lips, and he didn't pull away when you approached him nor he did when you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his chest, looking up at him, adoringly. He looked down, meeting your gaze, “I… I love you. I love you too. God, it just feels so good to say that!”

You giggled, again. God, he could never get used to that sound.

“And I’m sorry for being so mean to you when I was frustrated. I should have been more patient and my unthoughtful words hurt you.” You kept silent, remembering his words. “I—I’ll spend the rest of my life apologizing if you’ll have me.” He added, intimidated by your gaze.

Silence. “Well, I accept your apologies. I was unfair to you as well. And you know where I stand when it comes to you. My feelings, I mean.”

“I do… But…”

“But?”

“I'd like to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you love me?”

“I don't know. Do I, really?” You joked.

He blushed furiously, ready to stutter himself out of that situation. “No, I mean… you—you said that—that you remembered what you said last night and… so… putting two and two…”

Another giggle interrupted him. You traced his jawline, leaning up to kiss his right cheek. “I really, really love you.” A kiss to his left cheek. He chuckled. “I love you.” A kiss on the tip of his nose, to which he snorted, totally lovestruck. “So much.” A lingering, tender kiss to his forehead. He closed his eyes, already anticipating the next spot you would press your soft lips to.

As you made your way to finally kiss his lips, you decided to tease him and let him wait for a bit longer. Spencer groaned in protest and you chuckled a bit, finally deciding that it was enough. Pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth, making him sigh, you were thrilling on making him more and more eager. His grip on you tightened just slightly as he let out a shaky breath. You wanted to laugh, but instead, you poked fun at him. “Now you know what it's like to be teased.”

“I love you. Oh, Jesus… You're driving me insane. You're here… And you, you're you…”

You grinned, looking up at him, finally, finally pressing your lips to his. As you let out a small sigh, his breath hitched, both of you utterly drowning in relief and satisfaction. You pulled back a bit, grinning, going back to kissing him. Spencer's hands found your jawline, sliding back to tangle in your hair as he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth. Parting your lips slightly, you granted him full access to kiss you properly, and he moaned at the taste of you, gripping your hair rougher than before. You groaned softly, and he proudly heard and swallowed all your small sounds.

The ring of a phone broke the urgent atmosphere that was building between you two. Spencer ignored it, letting it ring until you pulled away, gasping for air. As you did, the noise stopped and you met his lost eyes, totally dumbstruck, and you laughed because you probably looked the same way. He gave you a charming, lopsided grin, too stupid, too hypnotized to say anything.

The phone began ringing again. “Son of a…!” he cursed, picking up the phone. “Hi, this is Dr. Spencer Reid and unless this is an absolute emergency, I'm kinda busy—”

“Reid.” Aaron Hotchner's firm voice hit Spencer like a bucket of cold water. Widening his eyes, he gulped.

“Yes… sir?” You smiled at that. Of course you knew who he was talking to.

“We have a new case.” Hotch announced.

“Oh… okay… I, um, I—I'll be there in 20.”

Silence.

“Is everything okay, Reid?” Hotchner could read anyone, Spencer was now sure of that. Even through the goddamned phone.

“Wh—yeah, yeah… Everything's… totally f—fine.” He cursed under his breath as you gripped his vest, trying not to laugh.

“Do you know where she is?” Hotch inquired after another moment of quietness.

“Who?” He squeaked. You chuckled silently.

“My daughter.” Of course it was his daughter.

Playing dumb is not a good look on you, you mouthed.

“N—no… I haven't… heard from her.”

“Sure.” Hotch said, skeptically. Spencer could feel the sweat on his forehead. After a moment, your father finished the call with an unreadable “We need to talk.”

Once the phone call ended, you burst out laughing at Spencer's reaction. “Not funny.” He protested, a frown on his face and a soft smile betraying his faux frustration.

“Come on, it is funny.”

He glared at you. “What do you think he wants to talk about?”

“I don't know. Men talk. I wouldn't want to get involved.” You said, grinning, pulling him by his vest.

He squeezed his eyes shut, relishing in the feeling of having you so close. “Do you think he knows?”

“Of course he knows.”

“How are you so collected?”

“Because I'm not the one he's going to scare to death, apparently.”

“He said ‘we’ need to talk. Emphasizing ‘we’. If he knows you’re here, then it probably—” you cut him off with a kiss.

“Well, then… Are you ready to face your biggest fear? The frightening Aaron Hotchner?”

Glancing at you adoringly, he chuckled. “I’d face him and whoever, whatever, a thousand times, if it meant that I could get you in the end.”

—

A couple days after the case, you and Spencer meet again, in your apartment. Sitting down on the couch, you ask him, amusedly, “Do you think he noticed?”

“Totally. I could barely look him in the eye for the first moments,” He said with a fond smile, hiding from you the fact that he had awkwardly and bravely spoken to your dad about your relationship. You laughed, placing your legs on the top of his legs. “I guess we should thank Lila, after all.” He joked, and you laughed out loud.

Leaning him closer to him, grabbing his chin and looking deep into his eyes, you muttered, “Don’t ever say her name again, Spence.”

Your wish was always his command. It would always be.

divider by @cafekitsune <3

bonus

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x hotchner!reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid self insert

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soobnny · 16 days ago

Text

we'll never have sex — changbin x reader ; established relationship & hurt/comfort (1.2k words)

there is nothing more beautiful than the promise of love even if you cannot guarantee or give that certain level of intimacy just yet

for my girls with a complicated relationship w sex & yes this is based off of leith ross’ song

Facetimes with Changbin always last longer than they should.

Had it been anyone else, the call would’ve dropped more than an hour ago. You’d have been found guilty for finding any excuse to warrant you some silence–the slightest tinge of awkwardness, the moment conversation runs out, faking plans.

Never with Changbin.

The static of phone calls stretch on, neither of you having moved much. You can’t remember how long it’d been since either of you said something, but you’ve never minded. The quiet that came with your boyfriend had always felt comfortable. Almost safe.

In your periphery, just at the top most right of your screen, you can see him sprawled across his bed, signature hoodie to match the boyfriend look, and fingers lazily scrolling through his phone.

“Still awake, baby?” His voice breaks the silence, teasing almost, but still gentle.

“Mhm.” You hum, shifting in your position a little. “But ‘m a little sleepy.”

“You should go to bed.”

“No.” Changbin chuckles at your refusal, deep and raspy through the phone. His eyes are crinkled at the corners, distinguishably fond even with the poor quality of the video.

For a second, you allow yourself to just watch the boy–his glazed eyes, the softness in his features accentuated by the low light of his room, the warmth of his smile.

Almost safe. Almost reassuring.

You wonder if it’s all a facade, wonder when he’d finally break, wonder when he’d leave you because you refuse to let him do anything beyond a kiss. Maybe no amount of love, even from the right person like Changbin, will ever be enough to change that.

You try to scold yourself. Self-destructing thoughts are too familiar, they reverberate in your head like you’d been thinking about it for a while, like they’d been practiced and practiced until permanently tattooed.

The tears come without warning, mid-scolding. Big and heavy and warm. They pool at the edges of your version, and it makes you feel pathetic that you hurry to press the sleeve of your hoodie against your face.

Changbin notices immediately.

“Hey.” his voice sharpens, the playful edge he’d been sporting earlier gone in a split second. “(Name)? Baby, hey, look at me. What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, and oh god, he’s going to leave you. He’s going to leave you because you’re such a crybaby, and anyone with a normal fucking mind wouldn’t do this to him. Anyone under normal—kinder—circumstances wouldn’t think like this.

“Baby.” He tries again, softer this time. “Talk to me.”

Your throat tightens around something akin to a lump. You try to swallow it down.

“Why’re you crying? What’s wrong?”

There’s a long pause before you finally speak.

“What if I… what if…” You start, voice barely above a whisper. You don’t know how to continue, words disjointed and dismembered. “If I said you could never touch me, would you still want to be with me?”

Changbin pauses for a fraction of a second, eyebrows drawn together in genuine confusion. But you go on, inundating him with the fears that have spent your entire life trying to catch up with you.

“I can’t give you what you want. It’s what you want, isn’t it? Would you still stay with me even if I told you that I never want to have sex?”

The boy’s expression softens immediately. He can hear his own heart break at how fragile you sound, at how shattering it is to look at your tear-streaked face through a screen, at the things that could’ve transpired for you to think that he’d ever leave you because of that, just because of something so menial to him in a relationship.

“Of course I’ll stay.” He says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “That doesn’t change anything.”

His words are meant to be comforting, the small but sure smile on his lips should’ve been enough to return your peace, but instead, the tears well up again. Heavier this time.

“Wait. Wait, wait—hold on.” His face suddenly disappears off the screen as he fumbles with his phone. He sounds rushed. “I’m… I can’t just look at you cry and not do anything about it.”

Then the call ends.

It isn’t until fifteen minutes later when a sudden knock on your door shakes you from your self-pity do you see him again. And he’s standing there, slightly out of breath, the same hoodie you’d seen earlier half-zipped with his hair tousled from the cold wind outside.

“Binnie.” Your voice cracks. “What are you doing here?”

Changbin doesn’t say anything at first, just allows himself to look at you—eyes tracing over the tear stains on your cheeks, and the way you’re hugging yourself with the sleeves of one of his jackets.

Then, without a word, he slips a hand beneath your jaw, tilting your face to look you in the eyes. His palms on your skin feel warm, calloused but gentle as he cradles you in his hands. “I think…” He pauses.

A heartbeat passes.

“I think you look lovely.” He murmurs, tone low and gentle, abating the tempestuous anxieties swelling in the pit of your stomach. “And I love you. Not because of what you think I’m expecting from you, but because I love you. The entirety of you.”

You press your face into the crook of his neck as an ugly sob escapes your throat. The tears spill over again, faster, and you feel so ridiculous for crying even more in front of him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I— I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He pulls back, leaning in to press a kiss to your wet cheeks. His voice is firm, but not unkind. Never unkind. And his eyes held no hesitation, no flicker of doubt in the way he’s looking at you right now. “Did I say anything to make you feel this way?”

Changbin tries to hide how he feels about his question, like he could never imagine being the reason why you’re sobbing like this.

“No, oh my god. Binnie, no. It’s not you.”

“Okay, it’s not me.” His voice is still kind, relieved. “I’m never expecting anything from you, okay?”

And just as gentle as he’s holding you, he kisses you. Nothing desperate, nothing hurried even. Just slow and lingering, like he’s savoring the moment for exactly what it is. He isn’t kissing you to take you to bed, not to ask for anything more, not even to change your mind.

Changbin kisses you just to kiss you.

Just to hopefully show you that he means everything he said to you.

“I’ll take care of you.” His fingers thread through your hair. “I love you.”

Quietly, tiredly, you start to show a small smile. “Thank you.”

Loving you is so easy for Changbin. Like second nature. Like falling in love with your laughter, and the little parts of you that make up your sum. And you’re aware that it’s going to take time to heal yourself—that it won’t be so easy all the time, that there will be days like these again, but you also know enough that he is genuine and that he loves you with no expectations even if it’s hard to believe sometimes.

Seo Changbin loves you with every bit of conscience he was born with. He loves you simply.

You stay like this for a while. Safe. Reassuring. Until you feel the sickness less and less.

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galactic-magick · 4 months ago

Note

here i come with arcane prompts bestie >:3

but this one might hurt ;-;

also SPOILERS FOR S1 IF ANYONE HASNT SEEN IT YET

/////

how about a reader's reaction to the council getting bombed O_O

their frantic attempts to find their lover(Viktor ofc :3), but who they find may not be the man they once knew TwT

I got a little carried away with this one bestie...

I Thought You Were Dead: Viktor x Reader

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Smut about halfway through. I put a *** before the smut starts in case anyone doesn't want to read that part. Reader has afab anatomy but no pronouns or feminine specific endearments are used. Also LORE SPOILERS, if you don't know what happens to Viktor in the League of Legends lore then don't read this!!

Author's Notes: This could be read as a part 2 to my other Viktor fic Nights Like This, which takes place in Act 1 whereas this takes place after season 1.

The explosion was deafening.

You can feel your soul sink as soon as you step outside your house, watching the smoke surround the council building. Your feet start running before you’ve processed anything, pushing through the gasping crowds in the streets with their eyes glued to the same devastating spectacle.

Tears stream down your face against the dusty wind, praying to anyone who will listen that your worst fear hasn’t happened. Running as if getting there faster might change the outcome.

It can’t end like this. Not when you haven’t said everything you want to say. Not when you have so much left to do together.

Not when you haven’t said goodbye.

The truth is, you haven’t even seen your husband in several days, maybe even a whole week. He’s been distant lately, so consumed by his experiments that he rarely comes home anymore. You knew what you were getting into marrying a scientist, especially the finest scientist in Piltover, but it still hurts. It hurts to see him driving himself mad and getting sicker, refusing to let you take care of him like he used to. He doesn’t like when you come to visit him at the lab because it’s too dangerous, and he doesn’t come home because he wants to be in the lab—so you’ve stopped trying. You can’t bear to see him hardly eat or sleep for days. You know he loves you, and you still love him, but right now there’s no getting through to him, and all you can do is wait it out until he either comes to his senses or succumbs to his torturous research.

Your mind flashes back to all the fights you had, begging him to come home, begging him to let you stay by his side. You both said things you shouldn’t have, hearts torn apart in mourning of a marriage that once was so perfect. You miss the nights where you were each other's safe space, where the world didn’t feel so grand and overwhelming. You wonder when it was exactly that you stopped fighting, when you gave up on begging and simply loved him as much as you could whenever you finally saw him.

A large battalion of enforcers encircle the scene, pushing back civilians as they attempt to view what happened. The rubble has fallen into mountains, several of them on fire.

You know he was in there. He must’ve been.

“Where are the survivors?!” you demand, shoving against the enforcers.

“We have not found any yet. Please return to your home-”

You pull out the knife you keep in your pocket for emergencies, pressing it against the enforcer’s throat, “My husband was in there. I am not leaving until I find him.”

The other enforcers turn their weapons towards you, and you quickly realize you’ll never beat them with nothing but a dagger and deep rooted rage.

You drop the knife to the ground and put your hands up, awaiting your fate. Would they kill you? Send you home with a warning? Trial you?

Well, not without a council.

“Please…” the sobs return, their weapons still pointing at you. “I just want to know if he’s alive. Just let me look for his body-”

You’re cut off by hands on your wrists and mouth, handcuffing you and knocking you out.

Several months later...

You should’ve known any retaliation against an enforcer could get you thrown in here.

Back against the stone wall of your cell in Stillwater, you envision that day once again, hating yourself for being so stupid. Without the council, the enforcers have started throwing literally anyone in here. In an attempt to contain the chaos of no longer having a government, even the smallest crime or protest is equivalent to murder. All you did was threaten an officer for information on your husband, but that was enough to banish you from any possibility of ever seeing him again.

If he was alive, would he know to come find you? Or would he go back home to find you gone and assume you died? Would he throw himself back into his research regardless of the tragic accident, not even noticing you haven’t tried to visit him in months?

Most days it’s easier to just tell yourself he’s dead. The man you loved so deeply no longer exists, and you’ll never love again. This is your life now, cold and dark and hopeless.

You sink to the floor, leaning on your side in an effort to get some sleep.

Though your slumber is awakened not long after by terrifying noises down the hall.

A collection of screams, an alarm bell, and loud clanging fill your ears. You jump up, looking through the bars of your cell to get a glimpse. You see nothing, but then begin to hear stomping footsteps thundering towards your end of the hall.

You stumble back to the far wall, shaking as the footsteps get closer.

The first thing you see is a pair of glowing orange eyes staring at you through the bars, and your breath leaves your lungs.

Is this really how you’re fated to die?

With ease, the mysterious figure rips off the door with what looks like a mechanical arm. The dim light hits him, and your entire body trembles. He’s covered in metal plating and armor, his face covered with a thick mask. He doesn’t strike you as human, except for what looks like human hair falling around his head.

He walks towards you, and you cower in his shadow. What does this machine want from you? You have nothing.

He says your name, and you freeze. It’s modulated and echoed from the mask, but you are certain that’s what he said.

And you’re also certain you’ve heard that voice before.

The figure reaches his hand towards you, the cold metal of his fingers touching your face. It tingles, as if there’s energy sparking through. His other hand lifts off his mask and drops it to the floor.

“Viktor?”

Parts of his face are covered with metal plating, but it’s undoubtedly him. Same eyes, same nose, same cheekbones. His hair swooping down the sides of his forehead and the small gap between his teeth.

You throw your arms around him and kiss him, your body hitting his metal torso hard enough to leave a bruise, but you don’t care. You kiss him until there’s not a single atom of oxygen left in your lungs, and even then you risk a few seconds more, his lips worthy of causing suffocation. Your fingers slide into his hair, just as soft as your remember. He gently embraces you back, wary of hurting you with how tightly he wishes to hold you.

“Viktor—I went to find you that day—“ you pant for air. “I thought you were dead—“

“I know, darling, I know,” he kisses your forehead before fervently returning to your lips. “I thought you were dead too before I heard word of people being sent here.”

He breaks apart from you and you let out a soft whine, “Vik-”

“I have to get you out of here now, okay?”

You nod in understanding and grab onto him as he puts his mask back on. He races back down the hall, pushing any leftover guards out of his way. You cling onto him, in disbelief that he moves so fast with ease. So many questions run through your mind, but you know you’ll have to wait for answers.

He carries and holds you in silence until you both get to safety. You don’t recognize the place he’s taken you to, but it’s undoubtedly his space. The tools and gadgets all over the tables and walls, the dim light you don’t understand how anyone could work under, the journals with different equations written barely legibly. You wonder if your old home is still standing or has been taken by someone else. Either way, this is your home now.

With him.

He takes off his mask and you’re once again met with his beautiful face. Scarred and tired, but still more beautiful than you’ve ever seen him.

“I’m so sorry. For everything,” he says. “I know I will never be able to make it up to you, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I am never letting you leave my sight again.”

Your bodies instinctively wrap around each-other, him picking you up and setting you down on one of his desks. The sensation is so new, since he’s never been strong enough to lift you before. Despite the novelty though, it feels as if no time has passed, as if this is a routine you’ve done every day, his hands all over you as soon as you’re alone.

You want to ignore the insanity of all this, how the love of your life has returned to you encased in metal. You want to forego all the questions, letting him continue his kisses on your neck and the wandering fingers on your thigh. You wonder what he feels like now—if it’s different—if what he can do to you now will make you forget every tear you ever shed for him.

You sigh, completely drunk on his touches.

“Viktor…” You look into his eyes, tracing your thumbs along his now metallic jaw. “I want to know what happened to you. Please.”

His caresses slow, his focus shifting to your words, “I will tell you everything, I promise,”

You grasp his hands, “Then tell me.”

He exhales, looking down at himself. He doesn’t want to think about it, doesn’t want to acknowledge the truth. He doesn’t want to risk you thinking of him differently or not loving him the same. Without you, he’d have nothing left to stay human for.

After all, he’s more machine than man now.

“I was as good as dead,” he finally says. “My injuries should’ve killed me, but an old…” he hesitates, “...friend found me. He helped me use hextech and shimmer to fix and augment my body. I’m stronger now, I can help more people now, I can protect you now. I’ve evolved beyond my human ailments-”

“Viktor,” you interrupt him. “Who helped you?”

He falls silent, fully aware you already know the answer.

“How could you?” you scold him. “How could you go back to that horrid, vile man? Who knows what he really did to you?”

“Singed may have unethical methods, but I assure you I’d be dead right now without him. You wouldn’t understand-”

“I understand that he sees you as nothing more than an experiment! What’s going to happen when this new body starts to break down? He’ll replace you with more mechanical parts until there’s nothing left of you. He does anything to make his specimens survive, and you know that!”

“So you’d rather me be dead? You’d rather still be in Stillwater, rotting your days away in misery?”

The floodgates of your glassy eyes break, and you let out the ugliest of sobs that have been building up for too long. No, you don’t want him dead, of course you don’t.

But there are fates worse than death.

You clumsily grab for him, pulling him between your legs and surrounding him with your limbs. Your lips crash together once more, this time more carnal and aggressive. Regardless of how angry you are, you can’t deny that you need him desperately. He cradles your face, wiping your tears away as they fall.

“Just promise me…” you beg into his mouth. “Promise me you won’t go back there again. Stay with me.”

“I promise,” he hums. “But you have to promise me something too.”

“What?” your eyes are already fluttering deliriously.

“You have to promise you’ll let me apologize every day of the rest of our lives,” he brushes his lips against your ear while his hands wander up your shirt, “And I think I know how you want me to do it.”

Your eyes widen, shivers already running down your spine.

***

It’s been so long, your body yearning for his as if you’ve been deprived from him for an eternity. You want to feel his new hands everywhere, his new fingers inside you…

Viktor wastes no time stripping you down, your shirt and bra flung across the room. He buries his face between your breasts for a moment before hoisting you up again, carrying you to the mattress in the corner.

“Since when do you ever have a proper place to sleep in your labs?” you laugh, sinking into the unexpected comfort.

“I didn’t get it for sleeping,” he smirks, placing kisses across your chest and shoulders, “I knew what I wanted to do as soon as I rescued you.”

“You’re telling me you got this bed just to fuck me?”

“Of course,” he shrugs, completely matter-of-factually.

You chuckle, a genuine smile stretching across your face so wide it almost hurts. You haven’t laughed or felt the pure joy and bliss of being in love in so long.

“I…” Viktor speaks again, hovering over you. “I don’t know fully what this new body can do. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” you smile, intertwining your fingers with his. “Is it...different?”

“Everything’s different,” he leans down to kiss you again. “Let’s just hope it’s in a good way.”

You nod enthusiastically, pulling him down to you. His cold metal torso presses against yours, a surprisingly pleasant sensation. You quickly acclimate to the new textures of his figure, wondering if any skin still exists.

He remembers all the places you like to be touched and kissed, and you grow more impatient by the minute. You’ve needed him—ached for him. You want him in any way he can give you.

He pulls off the rest of your clothes, teasing his mechanical fingers in circles around your clit.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

“Mmhmm,” you moan, slithering your own fingers into his hair.

Viktor’s always been good with his hands, being an inventor and all. He’s never once failed to satisfy you with his hands alone since you’ve been together, and he certainly wasn’t stopping now. He goes slowly, constantly needing reassurance that you’re alright. There’s nothing sharp about his fingers, a relief to both of you. They move just like his old flesh did, pulsing in and out with the finest precision. There’s moments where you feel a slight vibration, although you’re unsure if he’s doing that purposefully. Either way, he keeps you in ecstasy until you eventually come undone.

You pull his lips back up to yours immediately, craving his taste. His hands run down your body once again before returning back to the same spot.

You yelp his name as he works more fingers inside you. This is unheard of, him going back for more so soon. You had grown accustomed to his low stamina from before, and you never minded multiple rounds being a rarity. But now there’s not a single hint of exhaustion on his face, his augments freeing him from much of the pain that used to plague him. Instead there’s determination in his eyes, a drive to make love to you until you can’t take it anymore.

He builds you up to your second orgasm of the night, kissing and holding you softly as you come down from it.

“Viktor…” you sigh, completely out of breath. “I want to make you feel good too.”

He shakes his head, watching as your hands slide down his body, “Darling, I...I’m not sure if everything works the same. You don’t have to worry about me—“

“Let me try,” you plead. “Does any of this come off?”

He nods, removing the outer layers of metal with clicks and hisses. It was hard for you to tell where the armor ended and his body began, but the more he takes off, the more you recognize his familiar silhouette. There’s still patches of flesh here and there—warm skin to your fingertips, fused with the augmentations flawlessly.

And it seems the area you’ve wanted to see is one of the places untouched.

Well, not completely untouched. It’s covered in glowing purple veins, throbbing like they’ll explode any second. Viktor looks into your eyes nervously, and you reassure him with a kiss.

“It’ll be okay,” your breaths are hot, hovering over his lips. “Now tell me what you want, darling.”

“You.” he moans as your hand takes hold of his hardness.

“Everything seems to be working fine to me,” you smile, lining him up with your entrance. “I’m ready when you are.”

He’s shaking, for the first time since all his enhancements. He’s been so strong—no—indestructible, yet one look at you and the vulnerability returns in crashing waves. He’s still the same man you fell in love with, but now he could too easily hurt you.

He presses in slowly, eyes locked on your expressions for any sign of discomfort, but they never come. Instead, the noises and faces you make could be enough for him to finish right then and there if he didn’t have such control.

“Viktor…” you sigh, pulling him towards you as he bottoms out. “I’m okay. Are you okay?”

He stamps kisses on your jaw, then nuzzles his nose into your neck, “You feel even better than I remembered.”

“Do I now?” you chuckle, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes as he looks back up at you.

“Mmhmm,” he begins to thrust in and out slowly, earning more luscious sounds from your lips.

There’s so much of him that feels the same, but the sensation is so new. Is he bigger than before? Is it just the different texture from the shimmer experiments? You’re not sure, all you truly care about is that he feels divine.

You’re both getting close, whispering “I love you’s” until the long awaited release. He holds you tightly afterwards, refusing to let go until you both catch your breath.

“Viktor,” you ruffle his hair. “As amazing as that was, I don’t think I can handle a round four.”

He chuckles, “That’s alright. I’ll only go as long as you want me to. There’s always tomorrow.”

You giggle, kissing the top of his head. You push yourself up on your elbows, looking at the mess you both made, “I think we ruined your new mattress.”

He glances as well, noticing the cum stains, some of them a light purple color, a supposed side effect of the shimmer, “We’ll get a new one. For now lets get you cleaned up.”

He picks you up in one swift motion, carrying you outside. His new lab is conveniently next to the river, and far away enough from other houses to protect your decency. The water is cold, but not unbearably so. The stickiness rinses off, and you’re left to admire your lover once again in the moonlight.

He glistens under the stars, his gaze soft and sweet, just as it’s always been. His hands never leave you, caressing your wet skin gently and adoringly.

He’s still everything you’ve ever wanted. He’s still the man you’d die and kill for.

He’s still the one you’ll spend the rest of your days with, no matter what he becomes.

#viktor arcane x reader #arcane viktor x reader #machine herald x reader #viktor arcane #arcane viktor #machine herald #arcane

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gojossocks · 1 year ago

Text

Anything For You

Sukuna x Reader genre: fluff, hurt/comfort summary: After a thousand years, Sukuna never thought that he'd find you again. Only this time, your goals have changed and you weren't the person he can rule the world with anymore. Would he give that up just for you? wc: 2.7K content: friends to lovers, lovesick sukuna, kinda ooc sukuna because of how lovesick he is, mutual pining. they were in a situationship for a thousand years, can you guys handle that?

“Sukuna, don’t you feel alone in the past thousand years? I mean, all you’ve wanted is to gain power and do other villain-y things. It’s pretty lame and sad in my opinion.” Yuuji, his vessel, says mindlessly as he chews on his food while he waits for Megumi and Nobara.

“You insolent fool.” He sneered, a mouth forming on Yuuji’s cheeks. “I don’t mope around like you do. I was not alone either.”

Contrary to popular belief, Sukuna wasn’t heartless as most people paint him out to be. In fact, during the Heian Era, Sukuna is always seen to be with a powerful sorcerer.

There was you. The only person he sees as his equal.

But after you were killed, your history with Sukuna was quickly forgetten as the men write history in their own perspective. You are a significant figure in history, yes– but you and Sukuna together were only briefly mentioned in the books.

People have forgotten about how Sukuna, the King of Curses, have ruled the Jujutsu World with you by his side.

In the bygone days of the Heian Period, You and Sukuna have a unique bond as you two had grown up together. You were the only one who witnessed how he rises up to be the King of Curses. You were a powerful sorcerer too in your own way, despite the lack of title. Your benevolent nature has gotten a lot of people to respect you. People were not intimidated by your power but by your wisdom.

Despite your personality which is in contrast to Sukuna’s, it never became a hindrance between your bond. In fact, he seemed to like you more because of it. You taught him how to kill and destroy with purpose. and together, the two of you wreaked havoc on Earth.

You were the first and last person who knows him inside and out, not even Uraume could compare. He even prefers your shitty cooking, for god’s sake. He feels weak in your presence. Sukuna kind of resents you for it, how you make him feel. How he’s willing to burn the entire world at your command. He’d kill anyone without batting an eye if you ask him to. You have him wrapped around your pretty fingers and you don’t even know it.

He remembers going into the gardens of your shared home after a battle and you’d welcome him with open arms, hugging him with your little frame. You didn’t care about the blood on his clothes or how he reeks of death. You look at him with such kindness, as if he has done nothing wrong in this world. You held his hands with such gentleness, as if he has hasn’t covered his hands with so much blood. And you smile and crack jokes around him after terrorizing villages, you wrap bandages around his wounds even if he can heal it in a heartbeat. He loves being doted on by you.

He was really good at keeping his emotions to himself unlike you who’d outwardly show how much you love him. He had a feeling that you knew of his affections slightly. After all, you were the only one allowed to touch Sukuna, to tease him and be alive after that. He chose not to tell you his feelings because he thought that he’d have all the time in the world to tell you.

Well, he thought he did until he received the news that you were killed.

Sukuna didn’t look at your corpse, refusing that seeing your cold lifeless body would be his last memory of you. After that was just endless rampage of destruction. In his mind, it was his way of avenging you. People have forgotten about you because of the amount of lives he had taken— his crimes outweighed any humanity he had left of him.

It goes like that until he was defeated and sealed. Well, that was years ago but even now, all he thinks about is you. So much that he could still hear your laugh.

“Really?” Yuuji exclaimed. “I think I should ask Gojo-sensei about—”

Yuuji’s rambling was cut off with a sound of laughter, which causes both him and the demon inside him to look where that voice comes from.

That all too familiar voice that even after countless lifetimes, he would still recognize anywhere. Sukuna felt like his entire world stopped when he sees where that voice comes from. Everything seemed to blur as his entire attention is fixated on the woman.

It was you, in the flesh.

Or rather, someone who is an exact copy of you.

He had found you! You had reincarnated as he hoped you would. You kept your promise and you’d see him again.

You were walking and conversing beside Gojo Satoru as you approach Yuuji who stood up straight and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Who might this be?” You gave the kid a playful smile.

Sukuna was able to examine you up close as you walked closer to Yuuji. You were as beautiful as the day he lost you. You fit right into this modern period— you’re wearing a uniform similar to Gojo’s, but instead of pants, you were wearing a skirt and knee high boots. If someone were to tell Sukuna that he’d find you like this, fighting against him, he would have howled in laughter before killing that someone.

“Yuuji Itadori, miss!” the young sorcerer said, exuding a bit too much enthusiasm.

“So he is the vessel.” You acknowledged with a nod before sharing a look with Gojo Satoru.

“This is Y/N Y/L/N! She’s a special grade sorcerer from Kyoto but will be transferring here to accommodate you. She doesn’t go to missions anymore just like I do so Y/N would be there whenever you need her.” Gojo explains, putting a hand on you and Yuuji’s shoulders.

Yuuji’s eyes widened as he registered the significance of your name “Like the one in history books Y/N Y/L/N?”

“I wish.” You quipped, inserting a playful note in your response. “It was nice meeting you. I’ve waited for you, you know.” Then you extended your hand toward Yuuji and as your fingers met his, Sukuna could feel the familiarity of your touch. You looked at Yuuji with so much intensity, as if you’re looking at the curse residing in him. Right at Sukuna. and he didn’t fail to notice the way your smile was gentler compared to the ones you’ve given the kid.

It was for him.

You’ve seen him.

“Well,” You let out a sigh when you’ve pulled away. “I better get going. I’m sorry to cut this short, Yuuji. I hope we’ll get to know more of each other. I heard you like rice bowls, I’ll treat you to my favorite restaurant in tokyo next week, yeah?” You pat the top of his head and Yuuji gives you a huge grin.

Once you’ve left, Yuuji could finally notice Sukuna’s silence. He had been silent ever since you’ve arrived and Yuuji was about to tease him for it until Gojo spoke up.

“It’s her if she wasn’t being obvious enough.”

-.-

In the week following his unexpected encounter with you, Sukuna’s demeanor underwent a subtle transformation. He was less mean to Yuuji and the snarky remarks had lessened.

True to your promise, you spent time with Yuuji, fulfilling your role as a companion and mentor. However, your newfound indifference towards Sukuna fueled a frustration that within him. Did he merely imagine the spark of recognition in your eyes? Was it truly still you?

He found out a lot about you during the time you spent with Yuuji as well as the information that Gojo discloses concerning you. It seems as though you have helped the Jujutsu World slowly gain back its glory just like back in the golden days. You’re a teacher too, and from what Gojo has mentioned, you’re still the same patient and kind person he fell in love with.

Sukuna feels a twinge of jealousy at the mention of how you’re close with the white-haired sorcerer. He finds himself scoffing at the thought of you finally replacing him. It isn’t far from reality, you’re too likable for your own good anyway. You make it so easy to love you that Sukuna failed to notice that this disease has swallowed him whole and now he’s stuck, absolutely pining for you like an idiot. How dare you move on from him if that’s the case?

He needed answers from you or else he’d go crazy. So he finds out where you live and he found out that you were living in the more peaceful side of Tokyo. It took him a while to get in control again and the moment he did, his feet carried him to you.

Your house is beautiful, it looked like the mini version of the place that you once shared with Sukuna. He entered it quietly and to his surprise, you were no where to be found but then he catches a glimpse of you in the window overlooking the garden.

Sukuna finds himself smiling as he reaches the garden. It had a variety of flowers and plants, the very ones you had planted with him years ago. You’re wearing a beautiful red plaid sundress and the modern age never looked so good in anyone but you.

You were simply ethereal.

You were too engrossed in watering your plants when he walks towards you.

“Old habits hard for you, Y/N.” Sukuna spoke up, his voice devoid of any usual domineering tone that he uses to other humans.

You turned to him, wide eyed. It was the first time you’ve seen him in ages. Sukuna’s still in the body of the young sorcerer that you frequently saw the past week but he looked like him—with his tattoos and demeanor. Your eyes are soon filled with tears and you shakily reached for him, engulfing him in a tight embrace.

“Finally.” You choked out, burying your face to his chest. Sukuna carefully snakes his hands towards your back on instinct. “It’s been so long. it was all worth it. I knew you’d come back.”

He rests his chin on the top of your head. Sukuna’s voice turned hoarse as he spoke. “I thought you were killed I-”

“I’m already here, Ryo.” You interrupted, pulling away to cup his cheek gently. Sukuna leaned in to the warmth of your touch, melting in an instant. “ I wasn’t. I was just sealed until I was let out by one of my dearest friends. I came to find you but you were already gone, so I waited.”

“You don’t know how much I’ve missed you, Y/N.”

“You were asleep for almost a thousand years. I was alive for most of it, clearly I missed you more.”

“Well, I thought you were dead. Cut me some slack, doll.” Sukuna teased with a smirk. You bite your lip to stifle your smile, playfully nodding inagreement.

“Come with me.” He murmured, pulling away to press his lips against your forehead. “After I kill this brat, I can take control and we can finally change the world.”

“By killing everyone in it?” You shakily asked. Sukuna thought that you were just shaken because of how glad you are to have him back.

He gave you a smirk. “Well, that was my idea. You know how I am.”

“Times have changed, Ryo. I’m afraid that it has softened me. I’m not the person you used to imagine burning the world down with anymore.” You calmly admitted, meeting Sukuna’s intense gaze and you tried to calm him down by tracing circles on his arm but he didn’t look convinced in the slightest.

“I’m here now. You could drop your act. I can protect you now, you know.”

“You don’t understand, dear.” you interjected, gently pushing a strand away from his face. “We have different objectives now. You seek to take over the world and be feared forever. I seek to live out my days in peace until I decide to end it.”

You must’ve noticed how Sukuna’s expression dropped at your words so you quickly clarified. “oh no, but don’t think I’d end my life after our interaction. In fact, I’ll live for a few more years until it will bore me to death. Literally. But there’s just so much to love and to do in this world, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t you want to be with me? Have you grown tired of me?” He demanded, his voice getting louder as he continues to talk. You weren’t fazed in the slightest and it aggravates him even further. It used to comfort him, that you know him so well, but now the butterflies in his stomach makes him anxious more than anything else.

You have always had the upper hand and he feels you cursing him the more you grant him your presence.

He feels disregarded as you implicitly rejected him.

“No.” You offered him a sweet smile, your eyes never leaving his. Sukuna thinks he might float with the way you’re looking at him right and his breath hitched once he hears you say the next words. “I love you, Ryo. In fact, I love you enough to know of your nature and I would be the last person who would stop you in achieving what you want. I wouldn’t be in your way but I couldn’t stay by your side anymore.”

Sukuna searched for a hint that indicates that you were lying and he found none. You had always been honest with him. He looks at you with a heartbroken expression but still trying to maintain his stoic face. He’s clearly hurt “Did our past mean nothing to you?”

“I’ve done everything I could, Ryo. I’ve done everything for you. You know I did that all for you. Wasn’t that enough? Didn’t you feel my love for you in the slightest? You could kill me now, if you want. It’d be a pleasure to die by your hand.” Your eyes are once again brimmed with tears again yet you continued to smile as you trail your fingers over his cheek “I’m sorry but I’m tired of seeing red. Gojo must’ve told what I did, you must know my change of heart.”

He did.

Of course he did.

He knew of what you did yet he still held on to the fact that he might be wrong. So is this really how it ends? Sukuna enjoys destruction and killing. He loves being in power and he will not admit that if you weren’t alive, he’s probably murdering civillians in Shibuya right now. But after he’d gain control over Yuuji Itadori’s body, the only thing that he keeps thinking of is coming home to you.

And what would the point be if you are not by his side?

“Then I’ll stay with you.” He declared.

A scoff escapes your lips and your bewildered expression makes him smirk even more. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’ll just finish this and I’ll come back to you. None of this matters anymore. I’ll abandon all of it. For you.”

You looked at him incredulously, your mouth agape. Sukuna wastes no time to finally pull you in a kiss.

It was a gentle one at first and he pulls away slightly to see you pout, eliciting a chuckle from him, only to pull you back to a deeper, passionate kiss. Sukuna smiles into the kiss as a soft gasp escapes from you.

He kisses you fervently, as if he needs your air to breathe. And as you run your hand through his hair, moaning to the kiss, he pulls you impossibly closer.

He’s home.

He returned to you 3 months later, in his original form. He entered your house with wounds and bruises, his body covered in blood once more. It was just like before, but this time, it feels so different. He had a soft look in his eyes and he feels like he’s floating on air now that he’s gone home to you.

Just like before, you welcomed him with open arms. He lifted you and spinned you around, eliciting a squeal from you. When he puts you down, you peppered kisses to his face and hugged him really tight.

“I love you.” Sukuna whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear before leaning in to kiss you gently. You smiled at his confession. There was a look in your eyes that you knew it all along.

“It took you a millennium to say that.”

wanna read more?

a/n: i bet he still murders in his free time after being retired 😻

#sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna hurt/comfort #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #sukuna fanfic #sukuna x reader angst

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gay-dorito-dust · 6 months ago

Note

Will you do a scenario of how we’d meet Bill for the first time and what he would be like if you were sort of “friends”? 🙏

You were minding your business while walking through the woods of Gravity Falls, just needing a change of scenery and finding the woods to be the perfect place to do so with it’s mushrooms, flowers and the wildlife that crossed your path.

Everything was seemingly fine and not out of the ordinary until you started to feel like you were being watched from somewhere, you looked to see if you could spot anyone, but all you could see were birch trees that had markings on the bark that suspiciously looked like eyes. You were just about thinking of leaving until you heard a voice from somewhere.

‘Hey kiddo!’

You looked to the left, nothing

‘Other way kid.’

the to the right, nothing

‘Colder.’

Up? Nope, nothing.

‘You’re practically an human popsicle at this point.’

How about looking down? Still nothing. Now you were getting confused, scared and annoyed.

You heard the voice sigh and say ‘you’re starting to make me feel sad, here I’ll make this a little easier for you.’ Then before you could say anything, a small yellow triangle with one eye wearing a top hat and bow tie appeared before you.

‘It’s great to finally meet you y/n.’ It said and immediately you were freaked out.

‘Who are you and how did you know my name?’ You asked, uneasy.

‘The names Bill Cipher and I know lots of things, lots of things.’ Bill replied, shrugging. ‘Wanna see what I can do?’ He adds after a brief pause but before you could answer him, he held his hand out to a nearby deer as its teeth were taken out of its mouth and into his small hand in a neat pile. ‘Deer teeth for you kid hehe.’ He then chuckled as he dumped the pile of deer teeth into your hands.

You on the other hand didn’t find this funny and fought the urge to vomit as you offered Bill the deer teeth back. ‘Mind giving the deer its teeth back? I’m sure it has more use for them than either of us.’ You ask as Bill did as you asked and gave the deer its teeth back as it galloped off elsewhere, leaving you alone with the weird triangle in the woods. Everything that had happened within the past five minutes had been overwhelming for you, too overwhelming that you had to sit yourself down on the trunk of a fallen tree and put your head in your hands, muttering to yourself.

‘This isn’t real, this is all some weird fever dream or I’m tripping balls. There’s no other explanation.’

Bill only chuckled as he floated next to you and patted you on the shoulder. ‘There, there human I can reassure you that what you just saw was very much real.’

You looked at him from your hands, unamused. ‘You fucking suck at comforting people you know that?’

‘I think we’ll get along great!’ Bill chirped gleefully.

‘We absolutely will not.’ You replied but you had an inkling that your opinion on the matter didn’t matter.

Now onto how bill would be if you were sort of ‘friends.’

He’s got a weird way about showing his feelings in any capacity.

The little shit put rats, dead rats outside your door, spelling out your name on random ass occasions that made it look like to others that a) you were haunted or b) had a weird stalker who liked to form your name out of dead rats.

He doesn’t want you having friends outside of him because and I quote ‘I’m the only friend you need, why bother with anyone else. So don’t even try cuz I’ll be watching you.’

Will leave sticky post it notes anywhere and everywhere saying to get more silly straws or else he’ll find a way to possess you and make you do embarrassing shit. Ie: walk through town in your underwear, make you speak backwards, kick a child-

Bill was a brat and his pranks were often traumatic but apparently they were ‘light’ in comparison to the stuff he did to his other meat puppets. You didn’t ask any further questions about what he meant by that in fear that he’d show you one as an example.

You are probably the only person who bill has told about his secret technique with mascara and eyeliner, even seeing him do it once when he insisted that you had a ‘sleepover’ at your place. He even points the mascara brush at you warningly as he threatened that you were to never tell people about this or else.

His version of jealousy when he sees you spending time with others is to trash your house and try to act cute when you catch him in the act. You don’t fall for this and give Bill the silent treatment for the rest of the day as he practically lost his shit over your lack of attention.

Probably air horned you awake once.

Bill Wouldn’t tell you this but he make your enemies do stupid shit that resulted in their deaths, for fun he claims but he didn’t want his favourite meat sack to start leaking water from their eyes every time something went wrong in their life. So he just cuts them out in the most brutal way possible.

Bill was stuck to you like glue and there’s was no way to hide from him as he would ultimately appears where you are, even if you’re in the fucking shower, he don’t care.

Bill: *appears in shower* my favourite meat sack have you- stop screaming it’s only me, have you seen a king cobra anywhere, I must’ve dropped it somewhere here-

He probably once threatened you with the whole ‘steal your eyes’ thing like he did with Ford but you had witness enough of Bill’s behaviour to know that he was joking about that, to which he was proud and would magically make a cake filled with worms, bugs and other unpleasant things appear in celebration.

You may or may not have been sick that day.

Your and Bills friendship was weird, probably not the healthiest in all honestly and you should seek help and or maybe therapy for the shit he’s out you through.

You were his property, you were his pet, HIS MEAT SACK and you wouldn’t be allowed to go anywhere without him knowing and or being nearby in hopes of catching your eye.

Just a yellow triangle with one eye and a top hat and bow tie floating ominously in the background was enough to unnerve anyone.

You had no freedom as far as you were concerned in this ‘friendship’ but bill likes to claim that he has given you the most freedom out of anyone who has ever existed.

#gravity falls x reader #gravity falls imagine #gravity falls imagines #gravity falls #gravity falls x you #bill cipher x you #bill cipher imagine #bill cipher imagines #bill cipher x reader #the book of bill

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marycorcaroli · 1 year ago

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NSFW HEADCANONS.

characters: kenshi takahashi, sub-zero, liu kang.

words count: 1626.

warning: fem!reader only, pussy drunk kenshi, creampie, big dicks, talking during sex, daddy kink, praise kink, breeding king, maybe size kink, cuddle-fucking, missionary, cowgirl, dirty talk, full-nelson.

mary ♡: hope u like it ! english is not my first language, i apologize for the mistakes ♡

rules ; masterlist.

SUB-ZERO (BI-HAN).

— despite how he looks and how he talks, bi-han is quite gentle in bed with you and doesn't want to have too much control over you, he knows that he can intimidate you too much and maybe you will become afraid of him, which will literally kill him. he wants to show you his love that he can't put into words, but his gentle touches and sweet kisses will do the trick.

— he's not the loudest during sex, i think he's just afraid to make any sounds, but he wants to hear you all the time, the way your mouth opens and the sounds that come out of it make his cock move inside you even more. if he sees that you like the way he whimpers or moans, he'll never shut up.

– i think he's pretty shameless and will definitely tell you what he wants to do to you and describe it in every color.

— he is crazy about your breasts and how they look in his palms and the way your nipples harden just from his breath elevates his ego to the heavens. bi-han will suck your tits all the time, he just can't stop and wants to do it all the time. loves to run his tongue over it and leave his drool (he's so dirty and needy 100% canon), will probably leave hickeys around your boobs and then stare at them forever. you can be sitting with friends and he'll just say in your ear that he wants to suck your boobs and you'll be like "wtf??? u ok???"

— a fan of eye contact.

— loves to humiliate, but he'll never go too far and bring you to tears, you're too precious to him, so he mixes it up with kind words to let you know you're still the best.

"where's my favorite, slut? hey, eyes on me, baby."

"show me how much you want that cock inside you and maybe i'll make you feel good."

"don't you dare make a sound, got it? or do you want to be heard? you're that dirty, aren't you, honey?"

— he doesn't have a favorite position, anything where you achieve pleasure and love each other is fine, he likes to touch you, so he doesn't like tying you up or too much bdsm, too much spanking that will leave bruises on you or too much hickeys, no matter how much he loves you, he doesn't want anyone to know about your intimate life, but still, the position he uses most often is cuddle-fucking.

— either he's your sweetest lover who is gently pounding into you, kissing the corners of your lips and whispering sweet nothings, or he's your daddy and wants you to moan loudly for him while he's trying to beat the hell out of you and get rid of the stress.

— he is obviously bigger than you and every time you stand next to him and he sees your difference, he gets blown away and you're already on the bed.

— his favorite kinks are size kink(!), voice kink and dirty talk kink.

— the biggest and thickest cock of all three of them, i just know it and i know that his cock is constantly throbbing when he sees you. bi-han knows that before he enters you he needs to warm you up good because well...his cock is really big, i'm afraid it will rip absolute anyone.

— loves to cuddle you after sex and kiss your whole face, he will take good care of you and change all the stuff you got dirty. he wants to fall asleep in your arms and listen to your heartbeat that helps him sleep and think what he did to deserve you.

KENSHI TAKAHASHI.

— i think he's pretty gentle and doesn't want to force you into things. will insist on your wishes and what you want to do the most. he won't mind if you tell him you want to tie him up, he'll be only too happy.

— based on what he can't see, it will be a little hard for him and kenshi will constantly think he's doing something wrong and if he hears that you're hurting, um, he'll go crazy. but i know it won't come to that. kenshi loves you and respects everything you've done for him, so he wants to repay you in the most wonderful ways every time.

— kenshi can't live a day without licking you and tasting you. He loves the way you wiggle his tongue and the beautiful sounds you make, he's in heaven because of you. kenshi dreams of meeting you after a hard day and asking you to sit on his face so you can get rid of the stress and soak his face in your juices. i think kenshi likes any position where he can suck your clit and kiss your folds.

— he doesn't have the fastest pace, more like a medium pace so you can enjoy this beautiful moment. but if you ask him he will go wild, even with a blindfold he will make sure you can't walk normally the next day. he loves you so he will take care of you ♡

— not the biggest fan of hickeys, he likes kissing your skin and saying nice words more.

— words ! kenshi loves it when you talk during sex and you tell him about how good you feel and how his cock was made for your cunnie. he's still not the most confident so he needs your words of encouragement, but he'll be sure to praise you too.

"ahhh, where's my beautiful girl? you're so good for me, thank you, honey."

"come for me, baby, show daddy how much you love him."

"you understand, don't you? you were made for me and i was made for you and it's the best thing that ever happened to me."

— he can cum anywhere, anything you want, he doesn't really care and wants you to like everything, but kenshi dreams of cumming in you and imagines what your child will be like, but...that's another conversation.

— i don't think he has the biggest dick, but he's not the smallest either. he's been with girls before, i'm sure he knows how to handle it and get you shaking.

— kenshi's kinks: daddy kink, praise kink, breeding king, maybe size kink.

— he likes poses where he can kiss your face and he would love to see it and see the emotions you show, but he also wouldn't mind if you ride him aggressively. for him, the top is missionary, full-nelson and maybe cowgirl.

— he may want to try public sex but will never say so, it turns him on that someone will see you and see how well he fucks you, but your bed looks more comfortable still.

— he will take excellent care of you afterwards and will do everything at the highest level. for starters he will lie with you and kiss you on the forehead to let you know how proud he is of you. he will take a bath with you and give you a good bath. he only needs words and nothing else, he is grateful that after everything that happened you are still here and let him love you.

LIU KANG.

— and finally we have reached the most beautiful man. liu kang is a true gentleman and will faithfully wait for you to want to feel all of him, and if you don't want anything, it's okay, he won't pressure you and will instead cuddle with you for a long time.

— he obviously knows how to bring a woman to a euphoric orgasm and he's going to try it out on you. he likes to see you whimpering under him and asking him to move his fingers faster, but he doesn't want to, he likes to see what a mess you're becoming and he hasn't even gotten his cock out yet.

— he likes any part of your body and will idolize everything, but your neck and shoulders have a special effect on him when he leaves kisses and feels the goosebumps on your skin and the way you immediately want more, wow, he's crazy.

— moans for you, makes the wettest noises, whimpers, he does everything and he's not ashamed, why should he keep quiet? you make him feel so good and he wants you to hear it. really, really loves talking to you during and sex and kissing you between words.

"i don't think anyone has ever evoked the same emotions in me as you have, love, i'm so glad i met you."

"do you feel good, baby? do you want me to speed up?"

"baby, you're squeezing me so hard, i'm afraid i'm gonna cum right now, haha."

— he has a lot of favorite positions and he wants to try them with you. i think liu kang practices tying you up, but not too much so you don't get hurt. he likes to fuck you in the missionary position and then watch you ride him fast and fall off from overstimulation.

— even though he looks like a man who likes sex in public places - he really likes it, haha. wouldn't mind pleasuring you in a restaurant restroom, massaging your cunnie while you talk to your friends and taking you on a picnic where he will lick your pussy and then sit u on his face while you gently suck his throbbing cock.

— he doesn't have a lot of kinks or on the contrary too many, i still haven't really figured it out, but he likes - dirty talk, overstimulation kink and riding kink (he likes the way your tits shake when you ride him).

— the most usual medium pace, enjoying your moment and he has no rush, you have forever ahead of you and he will still have time to thrust into you from behind with all his might and pull your hair while you forget how many orgasms you have already gone through.

— the sweetest when the time comes to take care of you after sex. he will change your bed, give you a massage and bring you anything you want. you did a good job for him and now it's his turn to take care of you.

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flanaganfilm · 1 year ago

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Hi, I'm a big fan of your work. Sorry if this is a dumb question, why kill the kitties? I notice it a lot in horror in general, and it completely takes me out of the story and just makes me feel bad for the cat. I feel like I'm missing something.

Not a dumb question at all - and I knew I'd be getting some of this the moment we decided to include Poe's The Black Cat in TFOTHOU. The comments sections of the world are full of accusations that I hate cats and/or hands, and - well - neither is true. I've admittedly gotten a little flippant with my humor in the past when people have brought this up. My knee-jerk reaction is always to say something along the lines of "well, Websters defines 'horror' as..." But honestly, as far as I'm concerned, it's just not a thing.

A brief history of cats in my work:

HUSH - Maddie's beloved cat, "Bitch," escapes the danger of a home invader completely unharmed and is alive and well at the end of the movie. The last shot of the movie is Maddie lovingly petting the cat on the porch.

THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE - Yes, a malnourished stray kitten dies within Hill House, only to be horrifically reanimated. This was done to show the horrors of Hill House, serve as a warning to the family, and foreshadow the deaths of several human beings (who would meet more horrible fates) later. Hill House is an evil place, and it killed and collected all sorts of living things... there are dead humans aplenty, and also phantom dogs, which Stephen and the kids hear several times and see in episode six. I'd argue that Hill House is an equal-opportunity horror show.

DOCTOR SLEEP - Azzie the cat is a great friend to Dan Torrance. Azzie also has a "shine" of her own, and can sense when patients at the hospice are going to die, and goes into their rooms to comfort them. Azzie is never once in any danger throughout the film and, we presume, lives a long and happy life.

MIDNIGHT MASS - All of the residents of Crockett Island, which include 157 people, a huge population of stray cats, and at least one particularly sweet dog, do not fare so well in this show. But nothing against the cats - everybody dies. The arrival of a certain evil creature marks doom for literally every living thing on the island (except for two people). And yep, it started with the cats, because they were plentiful and would not alert anyone to its presence. We see its lair full of dead rats, birds, and raccoons as well, all eaten while the creature was in hiding.

THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER - we adapted The Black Cat, written by Edgar Allan Poe. If you're familiar with the Poe story, you know that it involves the horrible death of a cat, which then seems to get revenge from beyond the grave. This is Edgar Allan Poe's story - we did not write it. HOWEVER, we decided to make a huge change to Poe's story. At the end of our retelling, we reveal that Pluto the cat is alive and well (and still wearing the Gucci collar), and that the supposed violence against the cat existed entirely in the person's mind. Pluto 2 - the terrifying, supernatural replacement that stalked Leo - is not real either. It is just Verna, taking another form (hence the injury to VERNA'S eye). So in this show, not a single animal is harmed AT ALL. We did that on purpose. We decided to change Poe's classic story so that the cat lived. We went out of our way to do that. I truly don't have anything against cats. I do tell horror stories... but that's about it! I hope it doesn't make it more difficult to enjoy the story, and thank you for watching.

#the haunting of hill house #midnight mass #doctor sleep #the fall of the house of usher #cats

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 8 months ago

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Aemond on a hot day and going for a swim

This one has been in my wip for so long. Whoever sent this, I am truly sorry

Warnings: 18+, nudity, mention of skinny dipping

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The weather had been scorching hot in King’s Landing as of lately. It was so hot outside that it was impossible to go in the sun for longer than ten minutes without feeling light-headed. No one knew why it was happening nor when the weather would cool down. You just had to sweat through it.

You were heading out to court in the late morning, fanning yourself as you walked, when a hand caught your arm.

‘’Where are you going?’’ Aemond's voice cut through the hot air. He wasn't wearing any leather, which was strange to see him without.

‘’To court. Doreah is waiting for me. She is going to teach me how to thread fans. Would you like one, my love?’’ you asked, offering him a small smile. Your hair was tied back into braids instead of its usual loose waves, helping you stay cool.

Aemond ignored your question, his jaw tight as he looked up from your dress. ‘’In that attire?’’

He never criticized your choice of clothing, letting you dress the way you desired, but he couldn’t let you leave the Red Keep in this dress. Absolutely not.

‘’I made it myself using an old dress. My handmaiden had taught me to sew.’’ You smiled proudly, giving Aemond a small twirl. ‘’It’s light and breathable. Perfect for hot weather.’’

‘’It looks like undergarments,’’ Aemond remarked, his tone tight.

You promised to work on controlling your insolence, but right now Aemond had you rolling your eyes. ‘’It is not.’’

‘’I can see your breasts through it, therefore everyone can see them.’’

He didn’t want to sound possessive, but your body was for his eye only. Not perverted men at court. It made Aemond sick to even think a man of his court could pleasure himself to the thought of your body. If he ever catches anyone doing so, he wouldn’t hesitate to cut their head — or cock.

‘’I opted out of a corset today. This heat makes it unbearable to wear.’’

‘’No corset?’’

You shook your head. ‘’No corset. Nothing.’’

Aemond raised an eyebrow. ‘’Nothing? As in…no undergarments either?’’

You tilted your head, a mischievous glint in your eye. ‘’Exactly, my Prince.’’

A group of servants walked by, averting their eyes from you and Aemond.

‘’I say we walk back to our chambers and you see Doreah tomorrow. It is not appropriate for a lady to walk around dressed so scantily.’’

‘’I have a better plan.’’

Aemond thought you had lost your mind when you suggested walking down Aegon’s hill under this heat. You were both sweating and out of breath when you reached the bottom of the hill, but you knew it would be worth it.

As you were walking, Aemond changed his opinion on your dress. He still thought it was far too revealing to be worn outside your chamber, but when you started swaying your hips while walking, he couldn’t look away. It made his throat dry…and his breeches tight.

A smile curled on your face, seeing your destination in the distance. You pulled Aemond along, his hand sticking with yours from how humid it was.

‘’We’re there,’’ you declared, standing before a small area of water deriving from the Blackwater Bay. There were a lot of trees around it, which hid it from the ships sailing through the bay. ‘’Let’s go for a swim.’’

Swimming sounded nice. He was completely drenched in sweat and the thought of jumping in the water was very tempting. Aemond looked around the secluded area. No one was around to spy on the Prince with his lady. He couldn’t help but notice the sweat dripping down your chest and neck and disappearing into your dress.

‘’We can’t go swimming. Someone’s going to see us.’’

You rolled your eyes. ‘’There's no one here. Ever.’’ You reached a hand out and dragged your finger down the buttons of his linen shirt, slowly unbuttoning them. ‘’Just think of the cool water on your hot skin. Won't that feel nice?’’

Aemond’s breath hitched in his throat as you trailed your finger over his chest. He swallowed. ‘’We shouldn’t… Someone could be watching,’’ he said, his protests were growing weaker and weaker by the second.

‘’Can you quit worrying and just have a swim with me? It's just you and me here. Lose the clothes, my love.’’ You looked up at him, the corner of your lips curled into a mischievous smile. ‘’Besides, the water is deep enough that no one will see your milky white buttocks once you're in.’’

Aemond exhaled deeply through his nose. Your stubbornness knew no bounds.

‘’You’re going to be the death of me,’’ he muttered before finishing unbuttoning his shirt and peeling it off. He began unlacing his trousers, then paused. ‘’And my body does not look like milk,’’ he added dryly.

A giggle left your mouth, amused. You reached for the ties on each shoulder, pulled until they came undone. Your dress fell into a puddle at your feet, exposing you fully.

Aemond swore his brain stopped working for a moment, his eye drinking in the sight of you completely nude in front of him. Gods, how did he get so lucky? You were a man's dream.

His throat went dry as he took a step forward. He gently placed his hands on your hips, his thumbs moving in small circles. ‘’Are you sure there’s no one here?’’

‘’There might be a rabbit or little ducklings...’’

It was Aemond’s turn to roll his eye. ‘’Very funny.’’ He finished undressing, pulling his breeches down before stepping out of them.

You grinned at him. ‘’You love my sense of humor.’’

Aemond pulled you flush against him, your clammy skin sticking to his, before tilting your chin up to look him in the eyes. His gaze was dark, almost hungry. ‘’And I love shutting that sarcastic mouth of yours even more.’’

His words left you speechless, not expecting that from him.

To prove his point, he leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss. You grabbed onto his shoulders as it turned deeper, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Heat spread through your body as you kissed, arousal slowly rising, and defeating the purpose of coming down here.

You pulled away, feeling Aemond’s breath against your lips. ‘’Shall we go in the water before things escalate?’’

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit

All and more taglist: @kenqki@hawkegfs@gillybear17@black-rose-29@fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity @Anouknani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3 @dahlia-blossom21

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon #hotd

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unriding · 29 days ago

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PROTECTING YOU FROM A CREEP. ft. endo & togame (separate)

in which a persistent pursuer doesn’t quite get the hint … that is, until they come face to face with your boyfriend. potential warning for implied stalking ( not by the characters ). f!reader.

sfw. similar to headcanons from my previous blog, but is not a repost!

As if any unwarranted looks your direction could ever go unnoticed by Endo.

He’s pegged you as the type of person to be much too trusting of everyone you come across since day one, now even more so from the way you didn’t even bother to question the reason behind why Endo would suddenly want to pick you up from work (though.. had he known that your shifts were adjusted to wrap up at 11 PM, he certainly would have started doing so much, much earlier).

He decides to wait just outside the back entrance of your building, clock on his phone reading 10:58 PM. It doesn’t take him long to note that the street lights in this specific lot are dim, and the area itself is practically empty. Nothing out of the ordinary considering the time, but it’s definitely not the ideal place he would like for you to be walking alone in the middle of the night.

It’s not like Endo himself is immune to your cute face or your endearing personality either, but — everything about this just rubs him the wrong way.

That stranger that only visits your work when he knows you’re working. According to your coworkers, he’s got his hands on your full schedule for the month. How that would even be possible is beyond him, your coworkers, and your own comprehension. Apparently nobody had told him your hours, but in the end, he got the information from somewhere.

He thinks this has been going on for much longer than you’ve let on.

A sudden set of footsteps catches his attention, though they’re not as heavy as he imagined they would be. The new moon tonight makes it difficult for Endo to see clearly, but from what he’s able to make out — he’s smaller than him, at least.

Not that he would have a hard time with someone who happened to outsize him.

He almost says something. He certainly would have, without a doubt, but you’ve always had a thing or two to say about him ‘starting unnecessary fights.’

So he waits. He waits and watches as the man in the hood looks as if he’s about to open his mouth to say something, but changes his mind upon noticing Endo beside the door.

Specifically, the infamous infinity on his neck. The tattoo that anyone in Makochi could recognize in a single glance — one that spells death for whoever is foolish enough to bother him, let alone his girl.

The man freezes in place. The new boyfriend you’ve been talking about was him?

Perhaps Endo’s reputation as one of the strongest still stands even years after high school has passed — especially now, with the way the stranger stares at him, completely dumbstruck.

Something bordering sadistic in Endo bubbles inside his chest. He can’t help it — not when he knows that had he not decided to come to pick you up, you would have been alone with him by now.

And now that he’s seen him up close, he doesn’t like him one bit.

“Ah, here to pick her up?” Endo cocks his head to the side. “That’d be my job, don’t you think?”

“W-Who?” He stammers, eyes narrowing into his best attempt at a glare despite the tremble of his lip. “I don’t know anyone here, man.”

He almost laughs. “Well, don’t leave so soon,” he makes his way towards him, circles him like a wolf stalks his next prey.

“What’re you doing lurking at her work place like this?” Endo stops when he’s just beside him, ‘Frank’ only a couple inches from him now, “ya little punk?”

“I’m here for the trash. I can come back tomorrow—”

“Really now..” Endo leans in, almost laughing when he retreats backwards. “Because I thought you looked awfully familiar. You’re not that guy who got a hold of my girl’s work schedule, did ya?”

His eyes go wide. “N..n—”

“Cuz a nice girl like that’s already got a boyfriend,” he checks his watch, bored. 11:01. You’d probably be double checking your things by now. “Ah.”

“Unless you’d like for her to see you passed out on the floor, of course. We could arrange that.”

“Wouldn’t you like that, you mutt?”

You really, really should have taken up Togame’s offer to pick you up.

He’s always laughed at your glare, much to your annoyance. Presses a fingertip to the skin between your brows with an amused grin, reminding that you that “such a harsh look only looks cute when it’s you, y’know.”

Only, he’s nowhere in sight and this time, you truly hope your glare doesn’t come across as cute. Your back roughly bumps into the wall with your last step away from your pursuer, hand flying up to flash your phone’s messages his way — “my favorite turtle” clear across the top of the screen.

“My boyfriend’s really big and scary, just so you know,” your voice falters, panic flashing across your eyes for a moment. “And he’s on his way. I told him all about you.”

He smiles, and a chill runs down your spine.

“Did you now? Well, he doesn’t know you like I do,” he sneers, slowly moving to close the distance between the two of you. “I could treat you better. You know I could. Just give me another chance, and I’ll prove it.”

You shake your head as hard as you can. “I said you aren’t my type,” your voice comes out quieter this time, hoping the volume masks at least some of the fear, “a lot of times. And I have a boyfriend.”

It doesn’t faze him. If anything, you think he looks amused by your efforts to turn him down.

“Did you think I didn’t know that, silly girl?” He’s closer now, enough to stretch his hand out and nearly reach you, “I really, really like girls like you. I don’t care… about your little boyfriend….”

Your eyes slam shut, back pressed against the wall and your hands hugging your purse to your chest — tightly, as if something so small could still potentially shield you from him. “Well he’s gonna b-be here, so—”

Togame. Where is Togame? Your heart pounds a thousand beats a second, eyes clenched shut harder than ever before, and you wait—

But his hand never reaches you.

There’s only a brief noise of surprise from your pursuer before it turns into something resembling pain, and your eyes flutter open.

“Jo..!”

You quickly note the faint trace of sweat along his temples, as if he had frantically searched every corner of the town before finding you. It doesn’t take you much longer to note the furrow of his brows next — the way he always does when he’s angry.

“Got yourself in a real interesting situation while I was on my way, did you now?” Togame’s grip tightens on his wrist, and he winces. His eyes flicker towards you, taking a second to make sure you’re not hurt.

He sighs in relief when you appear unharmed — aside from the slight tremble of your hands, of course, but no visible injuries. Lucky for him, he thinks, or he would have had to ask you to leave the scene.

Which leaves one thing.

“Hey… you,” the look in his eyes darkens, “what do you think you’re doing bothering her like that?”

“Cornering her against the wall …. and what was that? Tell me….” Togame lets go of his wrist, only to grab a fistful of his shirt. “Exactly what you were planning to do while I was away.”

#彡 entry.#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker x you #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker x you #wind breaker fluff #windbreaker fluff #togame x reader #togame fluff #endo x reader #endo yamato #togame jo x reader #endo fluff #endo yamato x reader

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sierrale8ne · 2 months ago

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40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER THIRTEEN

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @numberonepartyanth3m @wbb4l @authentic-girl03 @slut4uconnwbb @unadulteratedcyclepaper @kplum10 @fuddfanatic35 @avvwritesstufff @paigesluver @bueckersbitch

warnings this one is pretty sad ngl, some internal realizations, angst

kalena speakss 🪽! don’t jump me i swear things are happier next chapter lmao

July 2025 — Los Angeles, California

I’m happy.

The phrase plays over and over in my head like a mantra, like I'm trying to convince myself more than I am everyone else.

Music blares loudly at the Sparks gala, some fancy art museum that was all done up to make our coach and our GM look good, and to make the hundreds of rich donors in the building give money to the organization.

It’s working though, apparently a new practice facility is on the way.

It’s my first Gala, which means Brit dressed me in a fancy pinstriped suit: white button up, black tie. My hair, freshly dyed, falls straight over my shoulders. Some silver chains layered on my neck, studs in my ears.

I look good.

And in a room full of women, I should be taking advantage of the opportunity. But I’m not even sure I want to with the way Maraye is all I can think about.

I think it’s been, scratch that, it's literally been the longest five days of my life. I’ve sent so many texts that my thumbs are swollen, and checked my phone at all hours of the night that my eyes were burning.

She runs through my head during all hours of the day. And if I had a chance to talk to her just once I think everything would be fine.

So you can imagine how quick my neutral expression just flips when I see her. Maraye, in a beautiful floor length navy gown. Her hair done up in a side part, a golden cuff tracing her ear. The tattoo that trails down her neck to her shoulder is even more visible by the way her hair drapes over her shoulder.

I knew she was here, her attendance being part of the reason I dressed up and made my way here. She was all I needed to see. Not all the investors that wanted to talk to the number one pick, or anyone else who wanted me to be Paige Bueckers the basketball player.

I needed to see her. The one who made me feel like I was just me.

"Either y'all say something to each other or move on, P." Cameron snickers as she watches my attempt to just go through the motions. "You have all these girls here and you’re not paying ‘em any mind."

Raye had just finished up a conversation with Coach Roberts. Which makes the smallest change to my expression because there she was, smiling and laughing with my head coach and I can’t help but to wonder if they’re talking about me. If just a little bit of that bright smile of hers is at the mention of my name.

"Better watch out, that girl over there with her mouth watering." Dearica jokes as she points to whoever the hell is making her way over to Raye with her hand on Raye’s arm.

A blonde. Hair shorter than mine and she herself is probably shorter than me too.

I can’t even see her face, but I bet she’s smiling, telling her some corny joke because it makes Raye giggle, and now I’m angry. There’s no way it could be that funny.

I feel wrong. Out of place in a room where, in the least cocky sounding way possible, I literally commanded attention.

But none of it matters, because I stand here, letting my teammates ridicule me over something they know nothing about, while wanting to insert myself into whatever she and Maraye were discussing.

Even more than that, me and her had our own private matters to discuss. There were too many words left unsaid to bring to the surface.

I couldn’t let it all go to waste without talking to her. That’s it. I let it go for five days, but any longer and I was sure that there’d be no more fixing it.

“Okay, I was just kidding but— oh my God you have feelings for her.” Cameron chuckles, and from the corner of my eye I see her jaw drop a little.

“Cam, just shut up for a second.”

I think about when I went to dinner with Nika, and the most important thing that sets in my head while I’m shamelessly staring is when she asked if there was anything holding me back.

Then, I said yes. That the thing was holding me back from Raye was my career.

But now, I feel like an idiot because the real thing holding me back was myself. My shitty relationship skills and my very obvious commitment issues when it came to having feelings for someone.

In what felt like milliseconds, my feet were moving faster than my brain and I was almost in reach of her when my eyes connected with Raye’s.

I can’t read her face. If she’s still hurt or if she wants to find a way to hit me with a car. It’s just blank. Which in my opinion is ten times worse than her giving me a reaction. There is none.

I do, however, pick up on this; the pure amusement when a girl approached me.

I remember her. Tanned skin and curls that framed her face. One of the few girls I’ve had a one night stand with after getting drafted.

"Paige, hey!” She grins, her hand resting on my forearm.

I couldn't help but look past her to see Raye’s response. It was clear that she didn't look pleased, turning away to listen to whatever was being said by other blondie.

I had to make a decision and it was literally my future vs. my very embarrassing past. I just know that letting this conversation continue for even a second longer, was a second that would make Raye hate me more than I think she already does.

"Sorry, if you'll excuse me." I mutter without another thought, not even taking a second look at the woman in front of me, choosing to continue my path to her.

Raye looks at me shocked. Her eyes went wider and her serious expression faltered just slightly.

I don’t even speak, just inserting myself in the space between the fellow blonde and the woman I hoped to take home tonight. Which might be just a bit forward, but I decided then that I didn’t even care.

"Buckets, good to see you!" The blonde greets me, a smile on her face as she senses nothing ill behind my appearance and shakes my hand.

My eyes don’t even look down to her for more than a second, physically stuck to the beauty in front of me.

"Mind if I cut in and speak to Maraye real quick?"

Raye raises her brow before placing her empty glass down. A cup of what I assume had to be a lemon drop.

Her hand presses to that girl's shoulder, smiling much to my irritation. But luckily she ends the conversation there, hopefully keeping it that way for the rest of the night.

Then she’s walking off in front of me, and my legs are moving all too fast to catch up to her. I end up following her out the gala hall and down the hallway, past some stairs, and then she stops. Turing on her Jimmy Choo heels to look at me with her arms crossed.

When I was laying in bed or sitting on my couch, the words I needed to say came easy. Having her stand in front of me though, makes it so much fucking harder.

“You don’t get to do this.”

“Ra—”

“Breaking up my conversation? What, Paige. What could you possibly have to say to me right now?” She asks me.

It’s a good question. I don’t know what I should tell her. Sorry isn’t going to cut it, not with her. I know better than to even try it again.

“Raye, we just need to talk. That’s it. It’s been five days.”

“And I don’t think that’s long enough! I spent seven days thinking about you and you spent seven days avoiding telling me the truth.” She bites. “I’m not ready. Let me be ready.”

And just as fast as I got her alone, she’s pushing off her heels and walking past me, so quick that I don’t even get the chance to reach for her. To hold her back and tell her everything that I’m feeling.

That— the inability to speak to the only person that I really want to be around— that hurts more than anything else I think I’ve ever felt in my life.

So I lied. I’m not happy.

I’m very fucking miserable.

—

July 2025 — Los Angeles, California

It’s hard to explain the feeling.

When I was in her house— Paige trying her hardest to keep me there, within reach— my mind was racing. When we stood face to face at the gala the other night and Paige was looking at me with all the hurt so obvious in her eyes, my heart almost stopped completely.

But now that it’s been over a week since I found out, I think the closest thing to describe all this is numb. I’m numb to it all.

Every time something comes along that reminds me of her— a pretty blonde on the tv, a tweet about the sparks, anything fucking purple— I don’t get upset nor do I cry, I just sit there. Like I'm doing now.

Cassie sits soundly next to me on the couch, I’ve decided that I really needed some older sister love tonight. My head rests on her shoulder, a plate of banana pudding in my lap that reminds me too much of Paige and the first night I really got to know her.

It’s all too emotional. The way Cassie runs her hands through my hair or rubs my shoulder without asking questions. Add on the romance movie on the screen.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, 10 Things I Hate About You plays on my TV, and watching Kat Stratford read her poem makes the tears flow from my eyes nearly as hard as they did last week.

“Ra—no, don’t cry! It’s okay.” Cassie immediately attempts to comfort me, but my eyes aren’t even glued to the screen anymore.

They stare up at the ceiling, as if looking at the white expanse would stop them from falling.

It doesn’t.

It just gives me the perfect background to picture me and her. All of the late night FaceTimes. I can see the screen of my Mac, or my phone, and I can see her in the center of it. I can hear that laugh, loud and so uniquely Paige.

All the late night drives, the chipotle runs, the waffle house breakfasts. Everything I’ve ever done with her just consumes me.

Cassie’s palm spreads over my check, attempting to wipe what’s left of the streaks on my face. It’s almost second nature to her, taking care of me.

“Okay I wasn’t gonna mention Paige, but now you’re crying over a movie we’ve seen thousands of times.” She starts tugging me into her and rubbing my back gently. “Talk to me Chuchi.” She pouts and I laugh at the nickname I probably haven’t heard since I was like 12 years old.

I’ve done a good job at keeping this whole Paige thing under wraps. Nobody knew what was going on between us anyway, and I don’t think we really knew what was going on either until it was being stripped away.

But it was stupid of me to think my sister wouldn’t pick up on the signs. I used to find every excuse to bring Paige up in conversation, and now I haven’t talked about her for a week.

“Is it supposed to hurt this bad?” I ask. “Cause if it is, I swear I’m never getting involved with another woman again.” I sniff, wiping my eyes languidly.

“If it does, that just means you really like her.” Cassie explains. It’s so soft. Like saying anything else, anything real, would break me apart into a million pieces. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

I do. So, I do.

I tell her everything, she’s my sister of course. I leave out nothing, telling her everything I felt when Paige first tumbled into us at the game. To the dinner party, which makes me cry some more over the banana pudding.

Each memory replays in my head like a vivid movie scene. The way Paige kissed me: always skillful but still a bit hesitant like she was trying to learn me, learn my tells and what makes me smile. And as I speak I can still feel her lips and her hands, smell her cologne so vividly that I swear it’s probably lingering on my hoodie right now.

I can so clearly recall everything that went down in her apartment. How fucking happy I was behind that door and how my smile only grew when she opened it and I got to see her again. After days of yearning for her.

After days of wanting her and thinking of her and needing her.

How she touched me that day. I hadn’t even gotten a chance to tell her about how Julian and I were done. But she still touched me so intimately. Like she already knew.

Her hands on my thighs and mine playing with that blonde hair on the nape of her neck. Blue eyes staring into mine like she’d die if she looked away.

Paige had that way of making you think you were the only person in the world. The only person she wanted or cared for, just by looking into your eyes.

And I fell victim to it.

I remember every single word she said to me that day. I also remember every single word I said to her.

Which doesn’t really help when you’re trying to convince yourself that you’re not in the wrong. That walking out was a good decision.

The way her voice raised when she got defensive, telling me I didn’t “get to be upset”. Then the way it immediately contrasted when she apologized. That subtle crack of her voice replayed in my mind over and over like a skipping record.

I’ve only ever been cheated on once in my life. I was young, in high school, in a relationship that lasted a few years.

And that one hurt. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep.

It did make for some good music.

But this. This whatever with Paige feels ten times worse.

I swear I can feel each pulse and throb of my heart in my chest. Each mention of her name causes a few stray, dramatic tears to pool at my waterline.

By the time I finish telling Cassie everything, my nose is already puffy and reddened. I think I’ve stopped crying now, but I'm not sure because my cheeks are still wet. Tissues pile in my lap and some new romance movie plays on the screen.

I didn’t know how much I was holding back until now. Until it was all laid out in front of me and my sister.

“You gotta talk to her, Raye.” She shrugs. I know I do. But thinking about it and actually doing it are two different things.

I look at her wearily. My tongue is poking at the corner of my lips as I think. “I dunno if I’m ready yet, Cas.” I mumble, my voice low. Almost embarrassed.

“I know.” She comforts, running her finger over my knee. “But maybe hearing her out is gonna make things clearer for you. Don’t let this get in the way of what you want.”

I let that sink in. Replaying her words in my head until they stick.

Don’t let this get in the way of what you want.

—

July 2025 — Seattle, Washington

The ball passed through the net consistently. Swish after swish as if I had a point to make or something to prove.

And I do.

I’ve been playing like shit these last couple games before all-star. I blame it on Maraye and my inability to get her out of my head.

So instead of getting sleep, and quite possibly dreaming about her and those perfect eyes, I’m on the court at our hotel, putting up shot after shot until the sound of the nylon and the leather becoming one just meshes in my brain like music.

Music. Yet another thing that reminds me of her.

“What the hell are you doing?”

It’s Rickea. Her voice is easy to spot even with my back turned.

“I’m getting shots up Kea.”

“Well I can see that. It’s two in the morning, P.”

I chase after my rebound once again before looking at her lazily. Completely decked out in Sparks gear, similarly to myself.

I think my silence in this whole matter is part of the reason why I’m struggling so badly. But I don’t know who to talk to. Azzi and Nika would take it upon themselves to fix it. Cam would call me an idiot, which I’ve accepted at this point but still it isn’t what I need.

Kea already told me my head would be served on a silver platter for making a mess.

So I keep it all to myself.

Basketball was my therapy. I’d get in the gyms and shoot till someone was coming in and telling me to go home. Then, everything would be fine.

Except now it’s not fine. Because I get up, go to the gym, and the entire time I’m shooting, I just think about Raye.

“Ion know what to do, Kea.” I shrug, my voice sounding so different than what I’m used to hearing. It’s not certain, actually the complete opposite.

I take another shot. The second it leaves my hands, I know it’s off. The rim clunks loudly at my miss, and that alone is enough to break me down from the inside out.

“Paige.”

“I need to get her back.” I sniff, not even registering the single tear that immediately trails down my cheek. “Help me get her back, Kea.”

Rickea is walking over to me in an instant, stepping in front of me to stop me from grabbing another ball and letting this cycle consume me for another couple hours. She looks at me with something I can’t quite grasp. Like sympathy, but at the same time her eyes are stern like she’s pissed at me.

I deserve that. She told me she’d kill me if I hurt Raye. And I did, bad.

“Paige. Jus’ breathe, aight? Breathe and listen to me for a second.” She says, hands splayed on my shoulders in an attempt to ground me.

This is the most vulnerable I’ve ever been with any of my teammates, let alone Rickea. Usually it’s dumb jokes, and making fun of each other, prying a bit too hard into each of our personal lives. But I nod anyway, taking a shaking breath and wiping my face.

“I’m not gonna tell you how much you fucked up. You already know that.” She starts. “You’re so used to being in control that when you’re not, you start spiraling. Just breathe. Give her time.”

She’s right. I’m usually in control of everything. My career, my family, Maraye. And now that she’s taking control of us, causing that distance, I don’t know what to do.

“This shit fuckin’ hurts, Kea.” I groan, turning around to walk over to the bench. “I know I made a mistake but damn, it’s eating me alive.”

She racks up the balls for me before taking a seat next to me. I probably stink, all the sweat from my late night workout. But still Rickea wraps an arm around me, much different than any of the hugs we’ve had before. Like she doesn’t care about anything else but comforting me.

“You see where she’s coming from tho, right?” She asks me. “If Raye doesn’t wanna talk it’s prolly because she doesn’t wanna hurt you more. I know her well enough to know that mouth is reckless.” She jokes, and it brings a smile to my face because it’s true.

“So instead, she got me payin’ for my mistake by feeling the absence of her in my life.”

“Exactly!” Kea nods as if this is some astute observation. “Well, I dunno if that’s a good thing. But hold onto some hope, Five. She likes you. She doesn’t have to tell me that for me to see it.”

Surprisingly the words do soothe me a bit. If I’m feeling like shit over my own decision, I can only imagine how she’s feeling. With all the shit she got going on work wise, to have me pile more shit on top of it must be terrible.

“Just wait it out a little longer. I like you both together more than I like you apart, okay?”

I nod, holding on to those words tight.

Even though I’m missing her. I just have to wait it out. Whenever she’s ready.

#sierrale8ne #kalena’s works ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers smut #uconn wbb #la sparks #lesbian #my fic #40 days and 40 nights

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luvfy0dor · 9 months ago

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“Please Don't Cry ♡⁠˖” BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; crying, Nikolais kinda an asshole

Description; The BSD men seeing you cry, whether it's their fault or not

A/n; hi guys :333 one more request until they're all finished!! It only took me 6 months to do what, 11? 12? I don't know, I'm really slow when it comes to reqs, so I'm sorry it took so long!! I've also decided not to change to a gray theme cuz I don't wanna feel like I'm copying anyone, maybe one day though!!

Osamu Dazai ★

• It's probably his fault in most cases, but for this scenario we'll assume it isn't. Your day has just progressively gotten worse, and you were at the point where any minor inconvenience or annoyance would set you off and make you cry.

ೃ⁀➷

You pushed open the door to your apartment that you shared with your boyfriend, bags in your hands ready to rip from the weight of the groceries inside. You huff and kick the door shut behind you, annoyed when it doesn't fully close and requires you to kick it one more time. You carry the bags to the kitchen counter and set them down rather aggressively, not minding the strength you put into roughly placing them on the surface while you turn to put them away and wait for your boyfriend to arrive home from work for once. You sigh with a hand on your hip and the other on your forehead, opening the fridge and observing your current minimal amount of food and get to stocking up. A few things make it into the fridge before you hear the door open again and your boyfriend call out to you. "Y/n? Home?" A hum erupts from your throat in response and he quickly makes his way to you, following the sound of your voice. "Hey, babe, how was your day?" He asks, grabbing a head of lettuce to hand to you. "Terrible, 'Samu, nothing tragic happened but like, all the little things, you know?" You say, shoving the head of lettuce into one of the bottom drawers of the refrigerator. He reaches over to grab the milk, but realized that the half-gallon wasn't completely full, and upon further investigation (lifting the jug up), he realized that the plastic had broken and milk was spilling out into the plastic bags, onto the counter, and down onto the floor.

"Oh, the milk broke." He says, taking a large, exaggerated step past you and over the milk to bring the half-gallon to the sink. You straighten your posture and stand up straight, head swiveling towards the counter with whiplash inducing speed. You felt your throat close up, making you unable to say anything in response. Before you knew it, your shoulders started shaking and your tears quickly followed that motion. You whimpered quietly into the palms of your hands which attracted Dazais attention again over the milk. "Aw, don't cry over spilled milk now!" He jokes, but when you give him an agitated glare and open your mouth to defend yourself, he switches up and pulls you in for a hug. "No, I was just joking, but it's okay! There's nothing to cry about, we can get more milk. Do you have any idea how it coulda happened?" He asks you, stroking your back. "M-might've put the bag down to roughly.." you say, sniffling and wiping your tears from your face. He gives a pitiful frown and kisses your cheek quickly.

"Well that just means you're too strong for your own good! Oo, see I knew there was a reason why I had to clarify I was joking, you could've broken my neck if I didn't." He playfully says, trying to cheer your up a little bit. You let out a shaky sigh and nod. "Yeah...I guess. We can go without milk for tonight, I'll get some more for tomorrow." You grab some paper towels from the roll on the counter and start cleaning up all the milk. He nods in agreement and pulls you into his body, pressing a kiss to your forehead and squeezing your shoulder. "Yeah, we'll live. We should get take out for dinner, I don't think either of us are really in the mood to cook." A little bit of weight is lifted off your shoulders, one less responsibility for tonight. "Okay, Chinese?" he nods and smiles. "Yeah. I'll call right now, you want your usual, right?" He asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket. You hum against his chest, ready to knock out and take a nap. His words blurred together as you felt yourself slipping into sleep, but with that you also felt great amounts of gratitude for your boyfriend for making you feel just a little better. Or maybe you just needed to cry a little, who knows.

Chuuya Nakahara ★

• Chuuya is no stranger to annoying co-workers and tiring missions, often wearing him down through the day, but sometimes he's unintentionally snappy. Don't worry, he's always quick to make it up to you.

ೃ⁀➷

Throughout the day, the texts between yourself and Chuuya had indicated that Chuuya was having a rather troublesome day, especially because of the frequent complaints followed by the facepalm emoji. You decided that you'd kick back with Chuuya and relax, opening a new bottle of one of his favorite wines and maybe giving him a back massage or something to relieve his stress. You eagerly awaited that familiar sound of his key in the door, and when you finally heard it, you stood up from your seat. In walked Chuuya, his appearance a little roughed up. He hung up his coat and hat without a word or glance to you, walking right passed you into the kitchen. 'That was kinda rude.' You thought to yourself, but you knew Chuuyas job was stressful and sometimes overwhelming, so you let him walk off on his own for a while. You knew where he was going and it didn't concern you, just to the balcony for a cigarette. You crossed your arms over you chest, hoping that he'd come back in a bit of a better mood. You turned on the TV and occupied yourself with that for a little bit before his familiar, light footsteps were heard coming back into the house. "Chuuya?" You called out to him. You could hear his loud sigh. "Yes?" His tone of voice was clearly agitated and disgruntled.

You were taken aback by how clear it was that he didn't want to talk to you right now, and you knew it wasn't personal, but you couldn't help but be saddened over it. "Are you alright-" you go to ask, but he quickly cuts you off. "Yes, I'm fine, y/n, just leave me alone. God..." His words were followed by the bedroom door closing. You were stunned. Your mouth hung agape for a moment before you had to close it to swallow the shock that closed your throat up. After prying your eyes away from the closed door, you averted your gaze to your feet, feeling tears well up in your eyes. You felt bad for crying, but what could you do? All you wanted was to make him feel a little better and he wouldn't even give you the chance to. He chose to take some alone time instead, which you didn't mind, but he didn't have to be so mean about it. You went into your hands, some of the tears falling through the cracks in your fingers and silently onto the floor. Your sobs became louder and audible to Chuuya, who laid face first on the bed. He felt a bit guilty too, he never once asked how your day was and for all he knew, your day could have been just as bad as his. He knew you only had good intentions, and he didn't need to shove you off like that.

He sighed and got out of bed, opening the door gently instead of swinging it open and walked into the living room again, frowning at the sight of you. "I'm sorry, doll, y'know I didn't mean it..." He whispered quietly, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turned your head to look into his eyes, seeing the apologetic expression that painted his face. "Yeah, I know, but you didn't have to be so mean about it." He sighed and pulled you into a hug. "Yeah, I know, that was a dumb move. I just wanted some alone time, ill be better about it next time though, I promise." He says, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles. "Wanna tell me 'bout your day?" He asks, looking over at you. "Thank you. It wasn't terrible, just bland and regular." You tell him, erupting a hum of understanding from him. "I can only assume you already know I had a rough day." He jokes, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm real sorry though." The smile from his laugh turns into a more neutral one, almost a faint frown. "It's fine, just don't let it happen again, I don't like it when you're annoying like that." You punch his shoulder playfully. He groans in response, laughing as he stands up. "I won't, promise." He says, tilting your head backwards to kiss your lips. "I do still want that alone time, though, so I'll see you in a little bit, alright?" You nod in understanding. "Alright." He walked back into the room, giving himself some time to do nothing more than exist. He didn't sleep and he didn't think, just existed. You stayed on the couch, waiting for him to return with open arms, happy to see him giving himself personal time instead of forcing himself to be around people, even if it was yourself. Everyone needs a break sometimes, and Chuuya was grateful that you understood.

Fyodor Dostoevsky ★

• Fyodor came home to you, and that was enough to make you sob your eyes out. Happy tears, ofcourse, but your days had been riddled with anxiety since he left. He knew you'd feel that way, and he was fully prepared to open his arms to you again with that faint smile.

ೃ⁀➷

You watched the helicopter land on the helipad with your heart pounding in your throat. Your fingers fiddled with the collar and fabric of your shirt as you waited for the propellers to come to a full halt and your lover to step off. Leaves, gravel, and dust alike all blew around your feet as the blades finally slowed and your boyfriend came into view. Your body tensed and almost started moving towards him on its own, but your anxiety stopped it, keeping you in your place. Your eyes scanned over his intact body and granted you a sense of relief when you saw no visible large injuries. He took notice of you and gave a small wave, walking towards you with a steady pace. You couldn't stop it anymore and all of a sudden you were moving towards him at an increasing speed. Before you knew it, your arms were once in their familiar spot around his torso and he was quietly chuckling. He ran one hand up and down your back and kissed your forehead. "Someone's excited." You nodded, feeling your tears falling down your face. It wasn't until he got a better look at your face that he noticed you were crying, and his smile widened. "You missed me that much, Myshka?" He says, tilting your head upwards to look at him.

"Obviously! You knew I would." You huff, sniffling and wiping your tears off of your cheeks, but they just kept on flowing. He laughs at you and pulls you back into the hug. "Well i'm home now, and you don't have to worry about me anymore. For now, atleast." Now he's already got you stressing over his next leave, but luckily you're able to push it away from your head in the moment and be grateful to breathe in his familiar scent again. You felt him place a hand on your head and exhale, his heartbeat being your favorite sound next to his voice. The feeling of his hands on your body was easily #1 in the category of touch, and his appearance was, to you, the very best sight. And his kisses, his lips, were by far the best taste. It had been so long until you felt his lips on yours, so you went for it again, cupping his face with your right hand and pulling him into you. He hummed and kissed you back, rubbing your hip with his thumb. When you pulled away, his face was pinker than before and his breathing unsteady. He swallowed before speaking. "Everytime I come back to you it's like adding gasoline to the bonfire that is my love for you." He says, looking into your eyes.

You couldn't help but find his words as silly as they were romantic and pulled him in for another brief peck. "You talk so formally all the time, it makes me giggle." You tell him, caressing his pale pink lips with your thumb. "It's better than the things I say that make you cry, yes?" He had a point. "Very true." He grabbed your hand and held it in his own while leading you away from the helicopter and to your car, more than ready to go home. "Your face is still wet from your tears." He whispers, wiping the remaining dampness from your cheeks with a smile. "Much better." You blushed and nodded. "Yeah, I'm glad you're finally back to wipe my tears for me." You tease. "Was a workout doing it all by my lonesome." He laughs at your remark and 'tsks'. "Well then maybe you should get more active or stop crying so much." He replies, a smug grin on his face. "Says you, the only arm movement I ever see you getting in is moving the mouse of a keyboard around." He shakes his head. "That's very untrue, you see me using my arms for other things rather frequently, actually." He insists. The sun shone down on his raven hair and gave him a halo-like highlight. How unfitting to the rest of the world, but sensible to you. "Fine, I guess so." You leaned your head on his shoulder as you continued to walk, finally liberated from the depression and anxiety that overcame you when he had left all that time ago.

Nikolai Gogol ★

• Nikolai doesn't mean to hurt your feelings with his teasing and jokes, but when you trip and fall face first into the pavement in front of a bunch of people and all he does is laugh with them, you can't help but cry out of embarrassment.

ೃ⁀➷

You walked along a sidewalk with your boyfriend, one hand holding his and the other holding a coffee. Your conversation was filled with mindless chatter as your stride stayed at a steady speed. Your eyes were flickering between him and the pavement in front of you as you were careful to watch where you were going. You saw the feet of many people walking passed you both, avoiding the states they were bound to give you and your clownish boyfriend. Something astonishing must have come out of Nikolais mouth at a point though, because you've never turned your head so fast to look at him and stare for long enough to not notice the tree roots that poked out of the ground far enough to trip you and land you right on your face with both coffee and dirt all over your shirt. All falls silent for a moment before you start hearing snickers and then the outrageously loud cackle of your boyfriend.

You pushed your body up off the ground, clearly embarrassed over the whole thing and shot a glare at Nikolai. "Really? You're just gonna stand there and laugh?" Your cheeks were hot and your heart heavy with both annoyance and fluster. "I'm sorry, dove, it was just so funny! That stains gonna take awhile to come out, though." He says, pointing out the big splatter of coffee on your light colored top. You can't help but scoff. "It was so funny that you couldn't even help me up?" He nods, exhaling audibly and wiping a tear of amusement from his eye. "But ofcourse! If I wasn't paralyzed by my laughter than I would have been the first to help you." He started walking back home along the paved path with you, going to grab your hand but furrowing his eyebrows when you snatch it away. He looks up to your face with an exasperated frown. "Oh, don't tell me that made you cry." You just sniffle and huff, letting your tears drip from your waterline. "Come on, don't be such a baby. It's just a material item, I can always get you a new one." He says, referring to the shirt. Your expression is one of confusion before you snap out of it and correct him. "It's not that, it's the fact that you just let me trip, fall, and spill coffee all over myself and let everyone laugh at me! You even laughed with them! That's so rude." You say, trying to cover the stain to no avail.

He blinks. "Oh. Well, I told you I would have if I wasn't laughing- I thought we were like that, we laugh when the other falls, you know?" He raises an eyebrow. "Okay, yeah, but not in front of other people." You say, chewing on the inside of your lip. "That was....oh my god, I'll never erase that from my memory." You say, still completely overtaken by embarrassment. He bites his cheek and grabs your hand before reaching over to wipe your tears from your cheeks. "I'm sorry." He tells you, leaning his head on yours. "It wasn't ever with ill intention, darling. We'll go home and I'll get you changed out of that ruined shirt and whatever it takes to make you smile again." He says, smiling and opening his portal to whisk the two of you away. Soon enough you were standing back in your living room with a new shirt already in hand. "See how quick that was? Can I take this off for you?" He asks, tugging at the hem of your ruined shirt. You sigh and speak. "I can take it off on my own, thank you very much." You roll your eyes and pull it off, but it's quickly replaced with the new one. He laughs for a moment at your discombobulated expression, but the noise quickly quiets. "I really am sorry, sweetcheeks." He says, leaning in to rub your noses together. You peck his lips and brush his hair from his face. "It's fine, but don't be doing nothin' like that again. That was so embarrassing." You say, averting your eyes. He hums. "Alright, as long as my dove forgives me!" He smiles and pulls you into a hug, happy with your decision to forgive him.

A/n; dawg I'm writing this in the tj Maxx bro forgive me if it sucks lol

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eufezco · 1 year ago

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SUPER SHY - JOEL MILLER x FEM!READER

SUMMARY – when Joel's keeping you company while you're showering, he sees something he wasn't supposed to.

english isn't my first language <3 // this is pure SMUT

A/N – omg it's been so long but i literally have no inspiration so if anyone has any request... also, i've been writing for the walking dead, especially daryl, but that's still in my drafts because i don't know if there's anyone interested in that. ANYWAYS, i hope this isn't so bad

He didn't mind. He truly didn't care. He was sitting on the toilet, bent forward, with his elbows on his knees and one of his legs shaking out of impatience. It was true that he'd rather be doing other things but with a bit of luck you'd be done soon and he'd leave. Although he didn't have much to do either, he was sure they needed some last-minute people to patrol.

He had been sitting on that toilet every night for at least thirty minutes every time you took a shower. Since you lacked music, you needed some other type of distraction and Joel wasn't the best for it but it was your only option.

"What was the last movie you saw?"

"I don't know. I can't remember."

"I'm sure you do remember, you are just too lazy to think. For me, it was Spiderman, my brother took me to the movies but I don't remember enjoying it. What was yours?"

"I think it was Catch Me If You Can."

"Never heard of that."

Of course not, he said to himself. The sound of falling water made your voice sound fainter so he had to readjust his position to hear you better. His back was now against the toilet, he ran his hands over his face. It was starting to get a little hot inside the bathroom as well. Joel looked in your direction, trying to understand what you were saying but quickly looked away. Joel closed his eyes tightly and then opened them wide again without knowing what to do. When he leaned back and looked in your direction, he expected nothing, only the curtain that was hiding you, but instead, he found a perfect view of your round and wet ass.

Joel swallowed nervously and shook his head, trying to erase that image from his mind, but it was so perfect and the water slid so easily down it. No, no, no, fuck he mumbled, massaging his temples. The way his teeth would sink into your skin there, and they would mark your soft skin just right.

"Are you okay?" You peeked your head through the curtain. Your brow furrowed as you saw him looking away.

He nodded.

"Can you pass me the bathrobe, then?"

Fuck, you were doing this on purpose, he thought. He stood from the toilet and you waited behind the curtains. You went out of the shower wrapped in the robe.

"I'll leave so you can change." He announced. His eyes briefly looked away and moved down to your breasts covered by your bathrobe, he could see how hard your nipples were and how the drops of water slid down your cleavage. You raised your eyebrows and Joel never looked you in the face again. He tried to get out of the bathroom, ashamed enough already, when you blocked his way with your body.

"I saw you looking at me, Joel. You won't get away so easily."

He didn't know what to say. Should he apologize? Should he leave anyway? He'd been looking after you practically since this started, since you two met in the woods, the least he could do was apologize for looking at you in such an inappropriate way.

"When was the last time you saw a naked woman?"

Your question caught him off guard. Joel shook his head and took his eyes off you, knowing beforehand what you were about to do. The bathrobe slipped off your shoulders and Joel closed his eyes, not even daring to look at your reflection in the mirror. You couldn't be doing this to him, he was not like the boys you'd been hanging out in Jackson.

"Look at me."

He shook his head. You told him again and this time his eyes laid on yours. You flashed him a smile, how innocent sweet Joel.

"I want you to look at my body, Joel."

Joel called your name, shaking his head again and swallowing nervously.

"I know you want to do it, I saw how you looked at me before. I want you too, but this isn't going to work if you can't even look at me."

His eyes shyly moved from yours to your breasts. He took a glance and closed his eyes. You smiled victorious. You guided one of his hands to caress one side of your body. Joel dared to look at the path his hand was making through your body, how soft the skin of your waist felt against his rough fingers.

You led his hand to cup one of your tits. Your nipple immediately became hard on contact with his palm and your pussy was already clenching around nothing. You'd dreamed so many times about how would his touch feel, and he was barely applying any pressure, nor squeezing it or pinching your nipple, he was just holding your tit in his hand.

Your hand pinched his chin and made him look up at you. His eyes were bright, darker than you'd ever seen them before, and his pupils were big. You fluttered your lashes, inocently and your thumb caressed his lips. You came close enough to his mouth for your breaths to become one, you could feel his beard tickling your lips. You ran your tongue over his lips and he leaned in for a kiss, his lips were so soft and gentle against yours compared to the thick hair of his beard.

You pushed his shoulders and made him sit on the toilet again. His cock was so hard and ready for you, already leaking precum against the fabric of his underwear. He was still unsure about this, not because he didn't want to do it but because you were so beautiful and he was an old man that doubled your age, and his cock was so hard and already throbbing against his stomach, it was almost embarrassing.

Joel put both of his hands on your hips when you placed one of your legs on each side of his body. You wrapped your fingers around his hard cock, giving it a couple of strokes and getting multiple groans from him. You could feel him twitching between your fingers. He was big, some black hairs like the ones on his head decorated the base of his cock and a prominent vein ran down its length, but the most important thing was, that he was thick. You could barely take it all in one hand, and you knew the stretch was going to be perfect.

You lined up his cock at your entrance, allowing only his tip to go inside you, and then you gently lowered yourself. One of your hands moved down to your clit and rub it to get used to the sensation of Joel filling you. He gave you all the time you needed but you were tight and he could feel his cock jumping inside you. Every time your fingers rubbed your clit your cunt clenched and squeezed him even harder.

"You good?" Joel asked, caressing one of your cheeks with the back of his hand. You nodded. "You sure? Oh, fuck-" He moaned when you started rolling your hips against his. Your movements were very delicate as your fingers continued working on your bundle of nerves, helping you to get even wetter and making it easy for you to take him. Joel could feel you dripping down the inside of his legs.

"Yeah, that's a good girl, fuck-" His eyes were locked on where you two connected although he could only see how his cock had completely disappeared inside your pussy. He was enjoying the way your tiny fingers played with your clit.

"Still good?" He asked again and you nodded. You suddenly stopped the movement of your hips against his and he was afraid that you'd hurt yourself. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders, getting a firm grip there to help you lift your hips from his lap. You pulled him out of you, his cock glistening with your juices, and then you dropped yourself back down onto his cock.

A sharp moan came out of Joel's throat and his fingers sank into the flesh of your ass. You repeated that again and again, finally getting used to Joel's width and to the sting of him going inside you deeper and deeper each time. Your hands moved from his shoulder to his face, cupping both of his cheeks and guiding his lips to yours, the sounds that escaped your mouths became one. His hands massaged your breasts shamelessly this time, his palms rubbed your nipples while you leaned your head back, giving him perfect access to your neck.

"I can't- I can't anymore." You cried out, your movements becoming more and more sloppy.

"It's okay. You did well." He gasped, his hands on your hips slowly guiding your movements, giving you enough time to recompose. Joel helped you to wrap your legs around his body, so that when he stood up from the toilet, he could move you with him, his dick still balls deep inside you.

Joel sat you on the sink and he splayed your legs completely open. You sat up on your elbows, looking through your eyelashes as he was admiring how your pussy sucked him. His dick slid inside you easily, his thrusts were stronger than you thought they would be and they made your whole body shake with them. Your throat felt dry and the burn in the pit of your stomach felt warmer and warmer. You dug your nails into his shoulders and pulled him to you, chest to chest.

Your hips rolled involuntarily against his, and you nodded to everything he muttered at you through gritted teeth. Yes, you were a good girl. Yes, you were his good girl. Yes, your pussy belonged to him. Yes, you were about to cum. Yes, you wanted his cum, and yes, you wanted it inside. And who was he to deny you your wishes? With a groan coming straight from his chest and your legs shaking and closing around his body, you both came seconds apart.

Joel stayed inside you, his head resting on your shoulder as you played with the hair on the back of his neck. You giggled. "Look at the shy one."

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notafunkiller · 1 year ago

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we found wonderland

Summary: You have a choice to make: you either set yourself free or continue to play the game.

Pairing: (fake) boyfriend’s brother!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap (r is 26, Bucky is 39), teasing, dirty talk, unprotected séx (but she is on the pill), pet names, daddy kínk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 2.4K

story masterlist

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this mini-series! Thank you for reading!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

You had decided you should wait for a week before making your relationship public, using that time to try to convince your parents to change their mind while Bucky plays pretend with his. It’s not an ideal situation, but he understands, keeping the truth to himself.

What he can’t keep to himself is his hands. Not that you can… but as soon as he comes home, he’s all over you, not even caring you are in the living room sometimes.

Acting like you’re just friendly is very hard for you. You want to touch and kiss him like crazy. Having sex with him changed the game, and now you try your hardest to find a way out of this deal so you can be in this relationship completely.

You laugh at the way he pouts. “You’re really adorable for an old man.”

“Is it so crazy I want us together?”

You melt, leaning in to kiss his chin. “That’s not crazy, baby, but isn’t that a little fast?”

“We’ve been living together for months now. What’s the difference?”

You wish you could find the right words to explain it. It’s quite scary and exciting, but it feels strange. “We’ve been together for a couple of days. Maybe we don’t…”

“Are you thinking of a break up already?”

You jump immediately. “No! Maybe we don’t have things figured out enough yet. And by we I mean me. I won’t have a job anymore if my parents don’t change their minds. I won’t have a real home. I won’t have anything but you. And I love every moment I spend with you, but I want something of my own, and I definitely don’t want to feel like a burden even if you don’t make me feel like that. My life is a mess.”

“And I want to help. I am not trying to control you or suggest something you don’t want, but we are friends, too, not just a couple. I am here for you. You can stay with me as a friend if not as a boyfriend. I want you safe.”

You say nothing, only staring at him for a while. You don’t even know what to say because the mix of emotions you feel is confusing.

“You know what I want?”

“What?”

“I want to fuck you right now.” You don’t try to hide your neediness as you place your hands on his shorts. “Can I, baby? Can I ride you?”

“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me before I turn forty. Is this your plan? Do you want me gone?” He’s already raising his ass so he can help you take off his shorts quicker.

“I want you with me always. Want you inside me so badly.”

He groans at your tone. “Then go for it, baby, take whatever you want. It’s all yours. I’m all yours.”

You smile eagerly seeing his hard cock, and lift his T-shirt. You cannot stand anything between your bodies right now. You just need to feel him. “God, we should go to the bedroom, but I can’t wait.”

You take off your underwear, unable to wait any longer. As if someone is holding a knife to your throat, and if you don’t get Bucky inside you in the next seconds, you’re gonna die.

“Anyone can walk in,” he says as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. He probably even enjoys it. “Can you imagine their faces?”

You snort, bringing his dick to your entrance without hesitation after spreading your legs further apart. “No, but I can imagine yours when you come.”

“You don’t need to imagine. You’re gonna see it up close if you hurry up.”

Neither of you even realize you’re not using a condom for the first time until it’s too late and you’re already sliding down.

Your grasp on his shoulders is so forceful, you’re sure it will leave a mark, as you moan his name.

“James…” You desperately look at him, wanting to see if he feels the same. “We’re not using anything.”

“I c-can feel that.”

“God damn it, James,” you sound like you’re scolding him, but in reality you are just overwhelmed.

“What did I… fucking hell, I am totally not getting to turn forty. I will die tonight.”

You ask with your eyes closed. “Do you want me to get a condom?”

“No, I want to die.” He groans, already in a different space. “Unless you want to… I am clean and you are, of course, and I can pull out, but like it’s not… I can go grab a condom right now.”

You immediately shake your head, placing your hand on his chest. He’s not gonna do that. He has to make you come.

“You are not going anywhere, you get out of me and I’ll die!”

“So you’re ovulating?” He asks casually, with a playful grin spread across his face.

You chuckle, hitting him in the shoulder.

“Yes, I am, and you gotta take care of me.”

Bucky groans, grabbing your ass, unable to keep his hands off you. You’re so hot and warm. “You’re really, really wet, princess.”

“Ihm.” You slide down further, almost taking all of his cock. “Look how deep I took you now.” You moan proudly, feeeling so stretched like this. “Look at this, daddy.”

And when he lets his eyes drop to your entrance, he has no idea how he doesn’t com right then. The sight is incredible.

“Baby…”

“I’m your baby, daddy.” You quickly take off your T-shirt at the same time you move your hips. As soon as he’s naked, you grab your breasts, holding them together with a smirk. You know that is going to affect him, and it makes you feel powerful.

“Oh God,” he groans as you bring your breasts closer to his mouth.

“Come on, daddy, go ahead.”

It’s all he needs to hear before he takes your right nipple into his mouth and the left one between his fingers. Riding him like this is a little difficult, but it’s not impossible. You love getting your breasts played with, and he loves doing it.

There is also something really hot and thrilling about the possibility of getting caught. You have no idea why and how, but you’re going to enjoy this as much as you can.

“You feel so good like this, nothing between us. Nothing between your come and me,” you moan, not even thinking about what you say.

“You can’t say that and expect me to be strong.”

That makes you laugh. “I’m on the pill, though, you don’t have to be strong.”

“Fucking hell, you’re gonna drive me crazy.” He starts to thrust his hips back so he can meet you halfway. Riding him feels so, so good. You got him deeper, and the lack of a condom makes you properly feel his thickness.

“You feel so… Fuck, your cock is filling me just the way I need it.” You grab his shoulders so you can move faster. “You’re such a good daddy, let-letting me use you right here, where everyone could see us.”

“You love using daddy’s cock.” He looks so drunk, in so much pleasure. “Such a naughty girl.”

“I’m your naughty girl, James.”

“All mine.” His hands on your hips help you move faster indeed, and you’re already so close you can barely keep your eyes open.

“F-faster.”

Bucky stops thrusting his hips back, and you groan. You need more.

“If you want it faster, keep your eyes on me, pretty girl.”

“I c-can’t-” As much as you want to fight this, your eyes instinctively close again. “Ss-so close.”

He can hear your desperation and without hesitating, he brings his hand into your hair and pulls unexpectedly hard. That’s enough for you to come loud. So loud you can hear yourself as you let the pleasure consume every bit of you.

But Bucky doesn’t stop moving his hips, making your orgasm last longer. He’s saying things, probably dirty things, in your ear, but you can’t understand anything. Your ears are still ringing.

And just like that, Bucky comes too, with his right hand still wrapped around your hair while the left one is digging into the skin of your hip.

“Fuck, I’m coming inside you, baby, can you feel it? Can you feel me filling your pussy, baby?”

“Ihm,” you can barely whisper, too overwhelmed by everything.

“Whose come?”

“Y-yours.”

“Good girl.” He groans as soon as he finishes coming, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you. “This feels like heaven.”

“I don’t think I can go back to wearing a condom now. I mean if you want to…”

“Are you sure? We can still use one just to make sure we are safer.”

You peck him. “We can still use it, don’t worry, I get it. Looking out for me and stuff.”

He lets out a deep breath, thankful you understand what he means.

“Of course I am looking out for you, that’s my job.”

“Job? You are my daddy, not my mom or dad.”

“I am your partner and your friend. I will always look out for you.”

A sudden urge to fuck him again takes over your body, but before you can do it, your phone starts ringing.

Bucky gives you the phone without moving, and when you both see it’s his brother, you groan.

“Hi, William.” You try to sound as normal as possible, but your voice is so raspy it’s impossible.

“Hey, gonna be home in a few minutes. Are you okay? Is Bucky home yet?”

“Ihm, he came.” You wink at James. “All good here. See you.”

You don’t wait for him to answer before you’re hanging up.

“You came too.”

You giggle immediately. It’s hard not to be around Bucky; he is goofy at the right time. “We need to clean up, though, he’s close.”

“Alright.”

Your parents didn’t want to listen to you at all. You didn’t have the chance to talk at the party since they’re avoiding you at all costs, and you had to go outside not to cry in front of everyone. You don’t just feel alone and treated like shit, you feel humiliated.

You’re lucky Bucky went to pick up William because his car broke down halfway here, so he didn’t actually witness your breakdown. You know he’d have done something about it. Something you should.

At this point, what do you really have?

“Hey, are you well? Why are you outside, it’s freezing?”

Bucky’s voice makes you jump as he’s suddenly by your side, rubbing your arms. William is right behind him.

“Baby, why are you outside?”

You see Bucky rolling his eyes, and you sigh.

“I wanted some fresh air, William.” You turn toward Bucky before taking a step back. You don’t want him to think you reject his touch. You really need his hug, but it’s not about what you need. “We should go inside.”

He nods, and all three of you make your way close to the improvised stage in the main room.

It’s crazy how many people actually came; it almost feels suffocating.

Your parents have been talking for a while, you assume, because people were animated. You wonder what they promised them.

“And since we’re all here now, I have something to announce,” Bucky’s dad takes the microphone all of a sudden, and William sighs. You want to ask him what is going on since he looks nervous, but you don’t have time to. “I want to invite my son, William, on the stage with us.”

And then he calls your name.

You look at both of your parents, trying to understand why you’d be needed there, and Bucky is just as confused as you are. Everyone starts clapping, and you find yourself dragged on the stage before you can protest.

“Tonight marks a very special moment for us both: professionally and personally.” You freeze, looking at Bucky instantly, but he’s also shocked, shaking his head. “A partnership that will last for a long time, hopefully, passed to a real-life partnership that has developed over the last months.”

William smiles proudly when his dad pats him on the back, and you want to throw up right then.

You turn your head to your parents, who display the fakest smiles you’ve ever seen. They don’t care about what you want. About what you need. Either way, you’re alone, and you cannot continue to play their game. You can’t!

And before anyone can stop you, you’re basically running down the stairs, straight toward Bucky. You quickly wrap your hand around his neck and force him to lean in so you can properly kiss him. You sense his surprise, but you don’t stop, using the opportunity to shamelessly kiss him in front of the whole company, including your parents. He’s yours, and everyone should know it.

He cups your face when you break off the kiss to breathe, and you smile.

You finally did it! You’re free.

You don’t need to turn around to know how upset your families must be. Everyone around you is either gasping or whispering around. You know they’ll be talking about this for a solid week at least, but you’re not gonna be there to hear. You won’t explain anything to them, and they can consider you a cheater who fucked the other brother all they want. It is not your mess to fix. You just want to leave.

“Let’s get out of here,” you whisper, taking his hand. All you want is to eat something and suck him off. “I need to pack my stuff.”

“Are you sure?” He asks concerned as you start to walk toward the exit. Neither of you turns when William calls your names.

“I have never been more sure in my entire life.”

He says nothing as you reach his car, lifting the hand he’s been holding closer to his lips so he can brush a tender kiss against the back of it.

You’re going to be okay.

Tags:

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #boyfriend's brother!bucky #boyfriend's brother!bucky barnes #forbidden #fake dating #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #sebastian stan #my fanfics #my stories #marvel fanfics #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n

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