Tumgik
#But after that they are done and over with
chiscaralight · 3 days
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nsfw kinich x fem reader. i love him, i miss him, choking, repaying favors iykyk
i’m so sorry but you know the part at the end of the last scions of the copy tribal quest where kinich says:
'promise me, if you need anything in the future you’ll come to me.’
so on a particularly tough night where your fingers aren’t doing enough, and humping your folded pillows insnt helping, you find yourself stumbling towards his home in the dead of the night. he swings the door open when he realizes it’s you, questioning why you’re here at such a weird hour.
“you said if i need anything i could come to you..”
“yeah, i did. what do you need?”
kinich is very precise with his work. it's something he's well known for, but you weren't too familiar with. but now, with his fingers expertly plunging in and out of your cunt as you struggle to keep your legs up, you understand what everyone means now. his face is inches from yours, breath fanning over your face as he studies your pleasured expression. your back is arching off the smooth wood of the door that he had you pressed against mere moments ago after you smashed your lips against his in the doorway.
his tongue is hot against your neck. you're desperately gripping at the wrist that's assaulting your sopping hole, weakly attempting to push it away from the sheer pleasure that's blooming throughout your lower half. you're whining, cries of his name dripping out of your lips as your thighs start to clamp down around your hand. and he's trying to ignore the throbbing in his pants because you came to him for help this time. you'd done a great deal for him, and it would be unfair to take something from you again so soon. but those eyes of yours, they're pleading, begging for him to just fill you up, as much as that perfect body of yours could take.
and he was right to trust his instincts because your cunt is sucking him in so well. his fingers are tight against your throat, pressing down as his free hand moves to wrap around your waist. he has perfect leverage like this, pulling your back against his chest as he fucks into you sharp and hard. your hands are gripping at nothing, the feeling of his cock combined with the lack of oxygen reaching your brain sending you into a sweet spiral. you can't even feel the words leave your mouth, soft whines and pleas surging into his ears as you mindlessly beg.
"i-inside, kinich. please, please-"
it's the least he could do, after everything you've done for him. he's also trying to convince himself that he's doing this for you, not because he's been thinking about pumping you full of his cum. sure, he'd finish his commissions early so he could drag mualani to come and hang out with the two of you, or purposefully rile up ajaw so he'd have a reason to put him in time out, giving him enough privacy to pump his length to the thought of you. but no, this was entirely about what he was willing to give back to you. so he'd free up your neck, letting your body softly drop to the bed, before securing your hips with both of his hands before ruining you. you're fisting the sheets, squealing hard as the sound of his skin slapping against yours fills the room, his thrusts are messy and uncalculated, warmth painting your walls as his orgasm waves through the two of you. he's still smacking into you with such fervor, that you can't hold back your own climax, releasing around his still-hard length with a yell.
and he's obsessed with the white ring that's starting to form around the base of his cock from your orgasm. your pretty hole is still fluttering around him as he continues to move. he stills for just a second, then mutters an apology. he knows he's supposed to be assisting you here, but he just can’t help himself. he's going to have to take one more orgasm from you tonight, but he’ll make sure to give you one right back.
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moonsgemini · 3 days
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cherry wine - firefighter!rafe pt. 2
* ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ₊˚ ⋅
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summary: Rafe’s job gets in the way of your first date, but you’re not mad about it.
warnings: teacher!reader x firefighter!rafe, fluff, mutual pining, flirting, sexy rafe, SMUT, fingering, fem rec oral, fem!reader, inaccurate descriptions of firefighter duties, alcohol, cursing
an: I have no idea how a fire fighters schedule works so I made it up bc it’s fiction. oh & do we like the long fics?? oh & it’s my birthday yay to 24
part one
* ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ₊˚ ⋅
The night at the bar Rafe made sure you were sober to drive. He had you drink lots of water and even ordered you a plate of fries. His mind wandering off when you would lick the salt off your fingers. He was gone for you from the start and he didn’t mind one bit.
After walking you to your car he asked for your number and promised to see you the next day. Leaving you with a kiss on the cheek and permanent butterflies. The whole drive home you belted out the lyrics to your favorite pop music, feeling like a high school girl with a crush.
Rafe drove him in silence with a grin on his face. When he got home and texted you that he had a great time and couldn’t wait to see you again that grin never vanished. It only widened when you replied reciprocating the same feelings.
The next day came and a couple hours before picking you up Rafe got called into the station. Instead of texting he called you wanting to make sure you knew he wasn’t flaking. You believed him of course. Yet you couldn’t help the natural feeling of disappointment that flowed through your bones.
That feeling was soothed when he texted you late that night that he had finally gotten back to the station. Along with that he sent a picture of the station dog Max on his lap. You couldn’t help the way your mouth watered at the sight of his veiny big hand that was resting in the golden retrievers fur. In return you sent back a picture of your steaming mug of tea and a horror movie playing on the tv in the back.
It sparked a conversation about movies which led to you and Rafe talking non stop the following week. Besides the times you were teaching and he was out training or helping people.
Rafe promised you a proper date that upcoming Friday. Making sure to let you know that he would do anything to make it work out this time. You reassured him it was okay if something came up again. That made his heart burst, it wasn’t often that someone was willing to work with his hectic schedule.
-
The outfit you had planned for the previous weekend still sat on your vanity chair waiting to be worn. And hopefully waiting to be taken off. You had finished your hair and makeup all done to perfection. As it neared closer to the time he was picking you up your anxiety spiked. He hadn’t called to reschedule so it was really happening.
Rafe had gotten worked up all week with the pictures you’d occasionally send of what you were doing. The one that really got him was when you had gotten out of the shower and sent him a picture of you in a fuzzy robe with wet hair and your skin glistening. Most likely due to a skincare routine you had mentioned to him.
Rafe thought you looked like a goddess, he wished he could have gotten down on his knees and untied that robe with his teeth before worshiping you. His kind had been in the gutter all week.
He was making sure this date was going to go perfect. He bought a bouquet of flowers from a street vendor and worn his best date outfit. As he rang the doorbell to your small cottage he started to get a bit nervous. He hadn’t put this much effort into a date since high school. Even then how much effort could a teenage boy put in. He didn’t actually remember the last time he went on a date.
Rafe’s runaway thoughts were interrupted as you opened the door. Standing in front of him in a short black skirt and black top. A jacket hanging over your arm and your glossy lips turning up into a smile. The boots you were accentuated your legs making them look even longer. Rafe wanted to lick every inch of you. Especially after the smell of your perfume hit him, he wanted to kiss your neck.
“Hi,” You said with a teasing tone.
He didn’t realize he hadn’t said anything, “You look beautiful.” He made it a point to look her up and down.
She laughed as heat creeped up her neck, “Thank you Rafe.”
He loved how you said his name, “These are for you.” He handed you the flowers.
“Come in while I put them in water,” You nodded towards the inside of the house, “They’re beautiful Rafe. You really do know how to treat me good.”
He closed the door behind him as you began filling a vase with water, “Oh this is nothing.”
“If there’s more than this I might start to like you a little too much,” You joked hoping the weight of those words don’t send him running. You didn’t mean to say something so forward so soon. Literally on the first date, but you decided to stick by your words. You didn’t want to hide that you liked him.
“Perfect, because I already like you a little too much.”
You froze with the kitchen towel in your hands as you dries them. As you looked at him his smile was sincere, no hint of teasing or lying. You finished drying your hands as you laughed softly. The crush you had on Rafe was growing by the minute.
“Ready?” You asked.
He nodded opening the front door for you. He even opened the passenger door of his truck for you. Of course you knew these were bare minimum things but you couldn’t help how giddy it made you feel. Especially when it was him doing it for you.
-
Everything couldn’t have been going more perfect. Rafe was almost grateful he had to postpone the date because in the week the two of you talked he learned a lot. With the knowledge of you he had he planned the perfect date.
He took you to a record shop that you hadn’t been to before. You had told him about your extensive collection you had started building in high school. He even remembered a few of the bands you liked when he came across them. Of course he insisted on buying you a couple which you repeatedly told him not to. Obviously he didn’t listen and bought you them.
Next door was the Italian restaurant Rafe had been raving about all week. Promising you it’d be the best pasta of your life.
But as you looked over the menu, a ghost of a grin hasn’t left your mouth all evening, his phone started ringing. Rafe took his phone out of his pocket beginning to apologize for not silencing it. He was going to ignore the call but the name across the screen had his brows furrowing in worry.
“Everything okay?”
He looked up briefly, “Uh yeah it’s my captain. I’m so sorry I need to answer this.” You nodded understanding as he gave you a regretful smile as he slid out the booth to take the call. You continued to look over the cocktail menu.
Rafe sighed as he sat down across from you again, “Everything okay?” You asked
He shook his head, “I hate to do this but I got called in. I wasn’t supposed to work today but there’s a hug pile up downtown where there’s a big concert and they need all the help they can get.”
You tried not to show the disappointment you felt because it was his job after all. Rafe could still see how your eyes lost a bit of their shine and your smile wasn’t as bright anymore. He really hated this. In his career so far he had never been called in so much. But now when he meets the hottest woman he’s ever seen work is taking over his life. He was not about to have you slip through his fingers.
“Oh yeah I understand. You can just drop m-“ You began saying before he interrupted.
“Come with me.”
“Huh?”
He shook his head with a laugh, “Not to the wreck to the station. Wait for me there.”
He didn’t even wait for you to reply because for one he needed to leave now or Captain Matthews would chew his head off. And two if you decided you didn’t want to and wanted nothing to do with him anymore he’s take you home, but the sound of your laugh as he pulled you through the restaurant was enough of an answer. Your hands stayed locked together until you got back into his truck.
The station wasn’t too far from where you already were so the drive was short. Rafe rushed out to open your door and grab your hand once again. As you trailed behind him you saw a few of the guys from career day and some new faces as they all stood by an engine in the garage. A couple were checking equipment and a few others were already getting on the truck.
“Sorry to interrupt your date but we need your help here Cameron,” An older guy said as the two of you approached. You assumed this was his captain.
You smiled, “Duty calls right?”
He laughed, “It sure does.”
“I’ll be right out,” Rafe said leading you into the station. He walked you into a room that was like a big living room with couches and a tv. Max was laying on the couch and when he saw Rafe he immediately got up and walked over to the pair.
“This is Max. Say hi Maxie bug,” He pet the dogs head who then sniffed your leg. You bent down petting his fluffy head.
“Hi Maxie.”
“Make yourself at home and feel free to anything in the kitchen. I’ll be back hopefully in a couple hours. If you get bored and uber home I won’t be offended I promise,” Rafe said placing a hand on your shoulder.
You nodded, “Got it. Be safe and good luck.”
He leaned in with a grin and kissed your cheek gingerly. Even that small touch had your head spinning. You and Max watched as he jogged back outside and only a couple minutes later you heard the truck leave.
-
It had been almost two hours now and Rafe was still out. You had watched a fe episodes of your favorite sitcom and played with Max a bit. You even explored the station finding the kitchen and a few of the rooms used for sleeping where you stole a blanket from to lay over yourself on the couch. The only issue you were having was that you were starving.
Since you two had to leave dinner you hadn’t eaten since lunch and that meesley turkey sandwich was not cutting it.
That’s when you wandered into the kitchen and that habit of wanting to take care of people kicked in. You looked through to see what the guys had almost expecting to find the bare minimum. You were so wrong. The fridge and pantry were filled with groceries. You thought these guys must really eat a lot.
You started brain storming and decided on making lasagna and garlic bread. You figured they’d all be hungry when they got back and you were also starving. As the garlic bread finished in the oven and the lasagna cooled down you heard the rumbling of the fire truck. Perfect timing. You hoped you didn’t overstep but he did say make yourself at home. You even baked some chocolate chip cookie dough they had in the fridge. Even also tossing a salad to have on the side.
As Rafe opened the door that led to the station the smell of garlic bread and fresh baked cookies hit him. He thought he must be hallucinating until he walked into the kitchen and saw you getting plates out from the cupboard. A few of the guys walked in behind Rafe.
“Hey we’re back,” Rafe said stepping towards you, “Did you make dinner?”
You nodded a bit of embarrassment creeping up your spine, “Yeah hope you guys don’t mind. I was hungry and I figured you were too so I made food for you all.”
Josh stepped forward looking at the pan of lasagna, “Rafe keep her please, this looks amazing.”
“Seriously thank you this looks so good,” Captiain Matthews said as he stepped in.
“No problem please help yourselves,” You motioned towards the counter of food.
Rafe couldn’t look away from you. The way you stood so comfortably in the station kitchen talking to his coworkers. He walked closer towards you as the guys served themselves.
“You are just too sweet huh?” He teased.
“Well we missed our italian dinner so I made it myself,” You shrugged with a grin.
“That just means next time I’m cooking for you,” He said. The thought of there being a next time brough butterflies to your stomach.
“I’ll hold you to it,” You nodded.
Rafe grabbed a plate and began to serve you food. Handing over the plate before serving himself. All the guys thanked you as Rafe led you to the living room area. He also grabbed a bottle from one of the tall cabinets along with two glasses.
“Now I know this isn’t what I promised you but next time will be better,” He promised as he opened the bottle of wine.
“There’s no complaints from me about this date,” You shrugged, “Since when are you allowed to have alcohol in here?”
He smirked, “Well miss I’m technically off the clock again and this is from the christmas party we had a few months ago. Cherry wine?”
Your eyes lit up, “It’s like you know me already, I love cherry wine.”
-
After your stomachs were full of good food and a bit of wine that made your head feel a bit floaty you both settled on the couch. This was the best date you’d ever been on. Rafe was sweet and flirty never hiding his desire for you. Not even in a sexual way but in a way where he constantly asked questions about everything wanting to know more about you. He talked about his life as well which only made you like him more. Hearing about his troubled privileged childhood that led him to where he is now. It was admirable to hear him talk about it with no shame since it made him who he is.
As it got later Rafe drove you home. You were disappointed the night was ending but it was nearing one in the morning and you still had lesson plans to create.
He walked you up to your door with an arm wrapped around your shoulders.
“I had a really great time with you tonight. I’m sorry again for the interruption.”
You shook your head, “Don’t worry about it Rafe. I still had a great time.”
“The guys are going to want you around all the time now,” He laughed.
“Oops,” You shrugged with a smirk.
He stepped closer, “Be careful now I might get jealous.”
“Maybe I’ll keep going then,” You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, “I know it’s late but uh do you want to come in?”
Rafe didn’t hesitate, “Yeah sure.”
You unlocked your door leading him in, “I can make you a cup of tea if you’d like or something else.” You asked as you set your things down on the entryway table.
“hmmm something else?” He asks as he steps closer to you.
You look through your cupboards, “I have tea, coffee, some random-“ your words caught in your throat as you turned around to look at him only to find Rafe behind you.
“That all sounds good but I think I want something sweet,” He said as he inched closer. Your hands rested behind you against the counter. Eyes wide with anticipation and curiosity as to what his next move would be.
“Like sweat tea?” You asked knowing exactly what he means but not wanting to jump to conclusions.
His smirk turned into a lopsided grin. He rubbed his hand over his mustache and shook his head stepping closer, “No that cherry wine was pretty sweet right?”
You nodded in agreement not taking your eyes off him.
“I think I want a bit more of that,” He was now practically caging you in against the counter. You felt like you were suffocating in him in the best way possible.
“Oh I don-“ He interrupted you by leaning forward and brushing his nose against yours. It shut you up immediately and then he broke the rest of the distance and pressed his lips to yours. You reciprocated moved your hands from the counter to pull at the blonde hair at the back of his head. His hands went to your hips pulling you closer to him then sliding up to your waist.
His thumbs going under your shirt the skin on skin contact made you shiver in the best way. Your mouths moved in sync as the kiss deepened.
Rafe could taste the sweetness but he wasn’t sure if it was the cherry wine or just you. He knew he was addicted to you now. He loved the way your hands felt in his hair and on his biceps and shoulders. He slotted his leg in between yours making you feel even closer to him. The small noises you were making made him sigh into the kiss.
He pulled away before kissing you a few more times and murmuring, “So sweet.”
You whined and tugged at his shirt to pull him back in. He smirked and gave you what you wanted. He’d give you anything you wanted.
This time you pulled away feeling a bit bold and the feeling of his thigh pressing against the place where you needed him the most helped you say, “You wanna see my room?”
He laughed softly kissing your nose, “You inviting me to your room?”
You scoffed a laugh, “Nooo I’m asking if you want to see my room. There’s a difference.”
“I’d love to see your room.” He said with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes playfully and shoved him. Grabbing his hand and leading him down the hallway to your room. You turned on the lamp on your nightstand which illuminated the room with a soft glow. Rafe had decidedly that he loved seeing you in that light. You looked like a real like angel.
“So this is it,” You said motioning to your surroundings.
He threw his head back with a hearty laugh, “Oh I really like you sweetheart. Come here,” He motioned with his fingers for you to come closer. A motion that had your mind in the gutter.
“Why do you say that?” You question as you walk forward to where he stood at the end of your bed.
“Because you’re all cute and sweet like you didn’t almost make me come just by making out.”
“Rafe!” You said with a surprised laugh.
He shrugged, “What? It’s the truth.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck still feeling bold. There was something about how unabashedly he admitted his feelings towards you that had you feeling confident. It felt good to be wanted. It felt good to be wanted by Rafe.
“You’re ridiculous,” You said as he wrapped his arms around your waist. His eyes moving down to your still swollen lips.
“Mhmm,” He hummed and nodded. He leaned in just like he did earlier in the kitchen. Kissing the air out of your lungs. His hands moved all over you gripping and holding anything he could.
His hand slipped down your back and over your butt, giving a squeeze as he past it, down to the end of your skirt, His fingers trailed up the back of your thigh and up your skirt. Hands gripping your ass under your skirt. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips which allowed him more access into your mouth.
There was a small part of your brain that hadn’t quite turned off yet. Rafe’s lips began to trail down to your neck leaving open mouthed kisses that had you arching into him. The feeling of his mustache against your smooth skin had you shivering.That’s when that part of your brain decided to speak up.
“Oh Rafe,” You said breathily eyes fluttering shut, “are you sure, it’s late and don’t you have work?” Rafe groaned as he kissed the spot behind your ear. He couldn’t help but get more turned on at the sound of her caring about him, but work and sleep were far from his mind. Right now he just wanted to bury his head between your thighs and have you moaning and withering underneath him.
“Baby I could care less about that right now,” He walked you back until you were sat on the bed. The bed wasn’t very tall so when he stood in between your legs you had to look up at him. The way he towered over you had your flimsy underwear feeling soaked. You had never been so turned on by a man.
Rafe reached forward to cup your jaw. Thumb stroking your cheek gently. Now that part of your brain was completely silent. All you could think about was him.
“You’re so beautiful,” He mumbled almost to himself.
A soft smile appeared on your face and he practically groaned again. Your doe eyes looking up at him with an innocent smile had his cock hardening even more if that’s possible. He bit his lip and watched as your eyes moved to his mouth. He knew you wanted him as bad as he wanted you and that made this all the more exciting.
He slowly trailed his thumb to his mouth, pulling at her bottom lip teasingly. Almost like a habit your mouth opened slightly. He took this as a sign to gently push it into your mouth. You wrapped your lips around it sucking and licking.
“Fuck,” He muttered as he felt your warm tongue. Where had you been all his life. He was never going to let you go. He pulled it out and leaned down kissing you again.
“You’re so hot,” He mumbled as he got on his knees in front of you. He removed your boots that you were still wearing and kissed up both legs. The intimacy of it all had your chest rising rapidly. The anticipation of just how good you know this man is going to treat you was enough to make your toes curl.
“I’ve been thinking about these thighs since I first picked you up,” He said as he kissed your inner thighs. He had placed your legs over his shoulders, hands gripping the outside of them. You sighed as your body ignited in pleasure.
You let out a small yelp as he pulled your center closer to his face causing you to fall back, “And fuuuck I’ve been thinking about pushing this little skirt up all night.” He hummed in appreciation as he pushed the black material up. Your feet now resting on the end of the bed. Your barely clothed pussy on display. Leaning back on your elbows you watched with hazy eyes as Rafe admired you.
He looked up at you through hooded eyes and a smirk, “Can I please taste you?” He knew you wouldn’t say no but he wanted to be a gentleman anyways.
“Please,” You whispered slightly bucking your hips up.
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lace covered clit. The black lacy panties you had on barely doing anything to cover your slick cunt. He took a mental picture for the next time he was in the shower.
You moaned softly as he continued to kiss over panties, eventually pulling them to the side. He murmured curse words as he lifted his thumb to run through your folds. Gently slipping the tip of it inside you to gather your wetness. He trailed it up to your clot beginning to rub soft circles. The motion had your head falling back with a sigh.
Rafe turned his head and peppered kisses on your inner thigh. He pressed down a little harder as he watched you get wetter. After a few strokes he tentatively dipped his head down and licked your clit.
That was enough for him to know this is what he wanted to taste forever. He roughly pulled off the lacey matterial throwing it somewhere in the room.
He groaned as he fully dived in. Licking, sucking, and kissing just where you needed him to. He listened to your moans and soft whines to see what you liked the most. He was so painfully hard but he didn’t even care. Rafe just wanted you to come.
“Oh god Rafe,” You moaned as his tongue dipped into you. Your hands gripped his hair tugging when something felt extra good.
He moaned and the sound sent even more pleasure through you, “You taste so fucking good.”
“Rafe I’m close,” You panted, “you’re so good don’t stop please.”
He shook his head with his mouth still on you, “Never baby, you’re gonna have to pry me away from this pussy.”
The dirty words sending you even closer to the edge. You had never been talked to like this and you loved it. You liked how he ravaged you and actually paid attention to what you liked.
You felt his finger nudge your entrance before he slipped it in. Your walls tightening around his thick finger. You arched you back as he reached one hand up to press flat against your stomach to lay you down more. Then he added a second finger and you couldn’t help the cry that escaped your lips. It felt so good the way he moved them in and out. Fingers curled up hitting that spot you so desperately needed.
The lewd sounds of his fingers fucking you and his mouth on your clit filled the room. Along with your loud moans and his occasional groans. The roughness of his mustache felt so good on the sensitive bud.
“Rafey I’m-I’m gonna,”
“Mhmmm let go for me pretty girl,” He encouraged as his fingers moved faster and mouthed hungrily at your clit.
You became a shaking moaning mess as he continues his ministrations. Your orgasm taking over your body. His hand gripped your thigh roughly as he kept going until your high was over. Once your back was flar on the mattress he slowly pulled out and pressed one last kiss on your puffy clit.
He made his way up your body kissing your stomach over your shirt and then you exposed cleavage. He kissed you fully and you could feel his mustache damp with your arousal. You could also taste yourself on his tongue which had you moaning again. Rafe lifted you to be farther up the bed so he can comfortably lay on top.
“You taste so fucking good I already wanna do it again,” He said smirking as he pulled away.
You smiled in a daze, “You’re gonna be the death of me.” As you reached your hand down to the front of his pants. Your hand cupped him through the material and he groaned, eyes rolling back in pleasure.
“Fuck I really really want to do more but I actually do have work in a couple hours,” He groaned. He wishes he could just call off and spend the whole night rolling around in bed with you.
You looked at him with slight disappointment but understanding, “You sure?”
He leaned down and bit your neck playfully, “Don’t look at me like that. I’ll be easily convinced.”
You giggled, “I understand Rafe.”
“I’m seeing you again though. I never lied about that. Especially after you let me have a taste of you,” He groaned dramatically, “So fucking delicious I’m addicted.”
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street-smarts00 · 2 days
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in omnia paratus
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
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Summary: Spencer's been on the fence with his feelings for you. Due to his past traumas he’s decided to keep his feelings hidden. Until you’re caught in a dangerous situation at work
WC: 3.5 k
A/N: I am SO SORRY this took so long. I’ve been sitting on this for two months because I was being a perfectionist and had writer's block. Thank you so much to the person who requested this idea and I hope ya’ll like it! beta read by @whats-yesterday00
Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Protective!spencer, Friends to lovers, age gap (25 and idk 33 or 34), during season 9 (sadly no post prison Reid, I refuse to watch the show after Derek & Hotch leave), Maeve is implied 
Warnings!: mentions of murder, stalking, gunshot wounds, hostage situation and incorrect info about hostage situation cause Idk I'm not in the FBI
Everyone knew Spencer Reid had a soft spot for you. Well, everyone except for you. 
Since the moment you met you’ve been on his mind. 
“Do you know how old she is?” 
“No, how old is she?” 
“25!” Penelope squeaked before being shushed by Rossi. 
“Wow, she’s gotta be the youngest person to ever be in the BAU. Well, second to genius over here,” JJ commented while pointing to Reid. 
“That’s if she gets the job,” Morgan added. 
They were all crowded around the desks in front of Hotch’s office. The blinds were cracked and they could just barely make out the woman seated across from their boss for an interview. 
Due to the increase in caseload after Alex joined, Hotch made the request to add an additional member of the team. After interviewing a few people that didn’t pan out, he heard quite a bit about you from your supervisor saying how well you’ve done with the FBI and you’d be an exceptional fit for the team.
Then of course Penelope looked up everyone who was interviewing with Hotch. You being her most recent victim. 
“How long has she been with the FBI?” Alex questioned. 
“Three years,” Penelope answered 
“What? Did she join right after college?” 
“Not right away. She graduated early and got experience with law enforcement first.” 
Spencer sat at his desk quietly while everyone was peering into Hotch’s office. Not to say he wasn’t nosy as well. You were already behind the blinds when he arrived for work. 
“Oh they’re shaking hands! That has to be a good sign,” Penelope cheered. 
Morgan turned to the window, “It’s definitely not a bad one.” 
Her eyes widened before loudly whispering, “Oh no they’re leaving. Disperse.” 
She scurried off in her heels towards Derek’s desk while he followed behind with a grin. JJ, and Rossi averted their eyes from Hotch’s office and found Alex’s desk far more interesting. 
All while Spencer’s attention was brought to the woman led down the stairs by his boss. It felt like his heart stopped beating when he saw how beautiful you were. He was brought back to earth as Hotch introduced you to the rest of the team. 
“This is Dr. Spencer Reid,” he gestured to the man sitting at his desk. 
You offered him a small wave and a kind smile, “Nice to meet you.” 
It became quite obvious you two would get along very well. From very early on conversation flowed incredibly well between the two of you. There were very few people that he felt were easy to talk to because of his niche interests and the way he would ramble spitting facts left and right. 
But he never had to worry about saying the wrong thing or talking too much with you. You often were a content listener or you would even match his passion on certain subjects. Most were topics Spencer already knew about. 
When you first met Spencer you didn’t know the Dr in his name meant he held 3 PhD’s or that he was quite literally a genius. 
So you were often telling stories or facts you found interesting that he already knew. In fact, almost every “fun fact” you brought up, he knew about already.  
But he never interrupted you. He always was listening intently to what you had to say. Like he was hearing about it for the first time. 
At some point you learned of his eidetic memory and how vast his knowledge was. It was during a case where you found out and mentioned it to him. 
“Reid, remember when we were at the harbor and I mentioned that thing about sharks?” You hesitated, “did you know that already?”
“Yes,” he guiltily admitted. 
You partially deflated suddenly feeling that the whole tangent you went on was pointless. “Why did you let me go on and on if you already knew?” 
His eyes softened, “because I wanted to hear you talk about it.” 
That was when his feelings started to peek through. As the months went on it only grew and grew. And you were none the wiser.
To the average person, it might not seem like much. Perhaps you were just good friends. But to a team of profilers (and best friends) it was painfully obvious. 
It was almost painful the way he looked at you with a longing in his eyes. Or when his gaze immediately turned to you to catch your reaction or smile. 
It was obvious by the way he found any excuse to bring you up in conversation. Or how in conversation with you he would mirror your mannerisms and lean closer to you. 
As well as the things he remembered about you or the little things he did for you. Like the countless coffee cups he bought for you from his favorite coffee shop before work. And when he saw you struggling to find something or open something he was always right there to help. 
Spencer Reid had feelings for you. Feelings so deep that he couldn’t pull the roots out even if he tried. 
He didn’t know what to do with his feelings exactly. He hadn’t felt this strongly for someone since … well for a while. He was terrified of history repeating itself. 
He couldn't lose you. He’d seen first hand what this job did to him, what it did to Hotch. Their loved ones ripped away from them too soon.
So for now at least, he kept his feelings to himself. 
Well, until your last case. 
The BAU was called in on a case that just turned serial. They found the unsub to be a man named Mark, who started killing because his girlfriend cheated on him. The first two victims reminded him of the man she cheated with. When that didn’t satisfy him, he hunted down and killed the other man. 
Now the team and SWAT was stationed outside a bus that Mark was holding hostage. He stalked his ex-girlfriend and tracked down the new city bus she took. 
The officers couldn’t get a clear shot of him because of where he was standing and he kept using the passengers as shields. Rossi was currently on the phone with him trying to make negotiation terms and get some of the people off the bus. Mark however was incredibly stubborn and didn’t want to let his leverage go. 
So Rossi asked about the children on the bus and if Mark would be willing to let them off. They were met with silence on the other end of the phone, contrary to his previous behavior where he loved to hear himself talk. 
After a short pause the phone spoke. “I’ll only send out the kids if you send in an agent.” 
Rossi shifted his weight and crossed his arms. “Are there any other circumstances you’re willing to send out the children for?” he asked. 
“Nope,” he said with a pop at the end of the word. 
A look of concern was quickly exchanged between Rossi and Hotch. While their faces didn’t reveal much, their eyes spoke volumes. 
“How about this,” the unsub continued. “I’ll send out their moms too.” 
Rossi’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at the eagerness to comply from the criminal. “You’ll send out the children and their mothers if we send in one of our agents?” 
“I promise.” 
Rossi returned his eyes to Hotch who stood rigid and tall with his arms folded. He was met with an approving nod before returning to the call. 
“Alright, we can agree to those terms.” 
“Oh and agent Rossi?” Mark perked. 
“Yes?”
“Send in a girl.”
There was a tension that quietly branched out between the agents listening to the phone call. 
“Why do you want a woman?” Rossi asked, clearly changing the dialogue used.
“I’m losing too many ladies sending out these moms. I want one back,” he replied with a cockiness to his voice. 
Ross confirmed they could send in a female agent. Almost immediately after the unsub hung up, you volunteered to be the agent going on the bus.  
“I’ll do it.”
Spencer’s head shot in your direction. “No you're not.” His voice was laced with concern and a hint of demand.  
“Reid-”
“He specifically asked for a woman. We don’t know what he’s planning, he’s devolving.”
“And I’m willing to take that risk to make sure those kids are safe,” You defended yourself. 
You turned to your boss waiting for his thoughts. Hotch knew you’d been exposed to enough high tension scenarios to know what you were doing. But just like any member of his team, he silently hesitated, worrying for your safety. 
He took a breath before meeting your eyes again. “Send her in.” 
Right before you were led to the bus, Hotch took off the holster on his ankle and handed it to you. “Some extra protection in case something happens.” You couldn’t hear the concern in his voice, but you saw it clear as day in his eyes. 
You made your way to the bus and saw through the window Mark holding a gun to the driver and telling him to open the door. You stepped on and the doors closed quickly behind you. The unsub took a long look at you, panning up and down. 
“Well how about that. Aren’t you a beauty? He said with a cheeky grin. 
You tried your hardest not to look disgusted with him. Instead you kept your composure and spoke with courage and a confident demeanor. 
“You this flirty with all your hostages?” you asked plainly.
As he gazed down at your legs his eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. He bent down and with the gun in his hand, pushed away the bottom of your pants leg. When he saw the gun in the holster, he tsked. 
“You always carry this much dead weight on you?” 
He stood back up and put his hand out, “hand it over, I told them no weapons.” 
You reluctantly took off Hotch’s holster and placed it in the unsubs hand. Your one line of defense was gone. 
The longer you were on the bus, the more anxious Spencer got. He knew you were an exceptional profiler, and you had enough experience and skill to handle yourself in situations like this. 
But that couldn’t stop the ache in his stomach or the fact that his heart rate could power a car by now. 
He stood closer to the bus now to get a clearer view of the windows. They managed to successfully get the children and moms off and to safety, but you weren’t safe. Spencer figured you were trying to negotiate with the unsub, but that was going nowhere. This was confirmed when Rossi tried calling him again but every call was ignored. 
This unsub was stubborn as hell. He knows he trapped himself, but didn’t want to back down. At least he didn’t want to go quietly. 
Spencer was talking with the rest of the team trying to devise a plan when the gunshots were fired. The team immediately ran back to the cacophony on the bus. 
More shots were fired, he didn’t know where from. He didn’t care. 
He just needed to get to you. 
When he got a decent view through one of the windows that hadn’t shattered he saw you. Your hand over arm in pain but still standing in front of the civilians to protect them. The unsub stalking over to you, gun in hand and smacking you over the head with it. You slammed against the chairs and fell to the floor. 
Spencer's face paled. He swore he was going to throw up. 
Through the fog of his mind Spencer saw Morgan escorting Mark off the bus, his hands now behind his back in cuffs. 
He rushed past them, clambering through the door and up the stairs to get to you, calling your name. 
“Reid?” he heard your small tired voice through the crowd. 
He followed it to you, laying on the ground struggling to open your eyes and clutching your left arm. 
He crouched down to your level with a gentle hand on your uninjured arm. 
“Hey, I’m here. I’m right here,” he comforted. 
“My head hurts,” you mumbled.
His eyes softened, “I know. I think you might have a concussion, you need to go to the hospital.” 
You slowly started to fade out of consciousness. Spencer’s heart dropped and his hand moved from your arm to your face. 
“No no no no stay with me okay?” he caressed your cheek with his thumb.
“Stay with me sweetheart,” he consoled.
Your eyes stopped struggling to stay open and finally made their close. His other hand rushed to your pulse point as he called for a medic.
Time seemed to stand still while Spencer sat next to your hospital bed waiting for you to wake up. He couldn’t leave your side. He didn’t want to. 
You were okay. You were laying in the bed in front of him. But of course in his mind he ran through all the possible scenarios of how things could’ve gone worse, how things could’ve gone better. What would’ve happened if you didn’t have your gun taken away, or if the unsub got angry that you tried to bring a gun in. What if he didn’t lose his cool and start firing. What if you never went inside in the first place. 
And with all of those possible scenarios, the same thought plagued him. 
He was wrong. 
Before he was too scarred from past traumas to reveal just how much you meant to him. Not wanting to repeat the past and lose yet another person he loved cared for. 
But now, after seeing you in danger right in front of him, now he was terrified at the thought of you never knowing. He was now more scared you would never know how much he loved the way your nose crinkled when you smiled. How he thought the sound of your voice could cure any ailment he had. How he admired your strength and desire to protect others. How you could light up anyone's mood by just being you. How he could listen to you for hours, even if you were lecturing him on things he’d known like the back of his hand.
To him it was a whole new experience hearing it from you. 
Spencer was pulled from his thoughts as you stirred awake. He saw your eyes adjust to the bright fluorescent lights ahead. He quickly got up to dim the lights for you. 
When he returned to his seat you smiled at him, “hi.” 
“Hi,” he smiled back.  
“How are you feeling?” 
You sighed. “Like shit,” you complained with a hint of humor. 
“The doctor said you have a minor head injury, bruised ribs, and the shot to your arm thankfully didn’t break any bones.” 
“Fun,” you said sarcastically. 
A moment of silence passes between you two. He doesn’t exactly know what to say. How do you casually tell your friend and coworker you have a crush on them? 
There is no casual way. 
“You called me sweetheart,” you broke the silence. 
He furrowed his eyebrows, “What?” 
You fidget with the blanket, “earlier, when I passed out on the bus. You called me sweetheart.”
He searches his mind for the memories of the day. When he finds the memory he realizes in the heat of the moment the term of endearment slipped out. 
He wasn’t aware you heard it. 
“I did,” he confirmed as his ears flushed.
“Why?” you asked curiously. 
He didn’t know how to tell you that he’s wanted to call you that for weeks now. So instead he settled with-
“It just … felt right.” 
“Oh,” you replied quietly.
Spencer tensed up at your response. 
“If I crossed the line-“ 
“No. Of course not,” you interrupted with a comforting voice. 
The corners of your mouth lifted and cheeks dusted pink. “I thought it was sweet. You don’t normally say stuff like that.”  
His heart warmed at your confession and a smile spread on his face. 
“You thought me calling you sweetheart was sweet?” he lightly teased.
“Shut up,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes. “You know what I mean.” 
Your laughter was cut short by a sharp pain in your abdomen. You bit down on your lip and gripped the side of the bed in pain. 
The reality that you were injured on the job was rushing back to him. 
He licked his lips, his nervous unconscious habit. 
“I was really worried about you.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t,” he interjected. 
“The entire time you were on that bus I was sick to my stomach. Terrified that something bad was gonna happen and it did,” he started to ramble. 
You leaned closer to him. ”But I’m okay Reid.”
“You still got hurt. He shot you for christ sake!” his voice raising in pitch and volume. 
“Reid-”
“He lashed out at you! You could’ve died!” 
“Spencer,” you said firmly, pulling his attention towards you. 
He never heard you say his name before. No matter how many times he said you could call him Spencer, you still called him Reid. Hearing his name fall from your lips was like the consistency of honey.
You placed your hands on his face caressing his cheek. His golden eyes meet yours. 
“I’m alright. I’m still here,” you consoled. 
“But if-“
“Spencer.”
“Please,” he pleaded. “It’s important.” 
You nodded your head, signaling for him to continue. He gently grabbed your wrists and brought your hands in his. He took a deep breath before he decided to spill the thing that had been eating away at his heart. 
“I have feelings for you. I have for a long time. Almost as long as you’ve been at the BAU,” he started. 
With your hands in his he started tracing his thumb over your knuckles. 
“If we don’t have work I count down the days until I can see you again. When I do see you I desperately want to see you smile, see you happy. And if I’m the one that causes that smile, it makes my whole day. That’s why I never interrupted when you talked about something I already knew. The way your face lit up when you talked with such passion was the highlight of my day.” 
“For months I was scared of my feelings and I kept them to myself. I was too scared to admit how much I liked you because I-” his hold on your hands tightened.
“I know what it feels like to lose someone. This job takes so much from us; I never wanted it to take you.” 
Spencer let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. 
“Today I realized it would be more painful if I went the rest of my life not telling you, than having even a fraction of a moment with you.”
A moment of silence danced between you two. Your head reeling from his confession, heart beating so hard you could feel it in your bones. Your palms sweaty from holding onto Spencers, but still neither of you let go. 
The silence was deafening, plaguing him. 
“Please … say something,” he begged. 
Your lash line was collecting tears that you simultaneously tried blinking away. Your eyes found his tie less intimidating than his gaze.
“I never thought you would like me back,” you said with a soft tone. 
Spencer's cheeks turned red as his heart started melting. “I do.” 
You brought your eyes back to his. That precious smile on his face was infectious. 
“Listen,” you squeezed his hands. “I’m not going anywhere. So you have as much time with me as you want.” 
Spencer's eyes softened at your words. He raised your hands and placed a loving kiss on your knuckles. 
The two of you were too lost in eachother to notice the footsteps towards the room. 
“Hey, I found some Jello for her if she-” Alex abruptly stopped once she noticed what she walked into. 
You both awkwardly pulled your hands away from each other; you fiddling with the hospital blanket, him rubbing his palms on his slacks. 
“So, feeling better?” she asked hesitantly. 
“Much,” you answered, still a bit flustered. 
“Good, good to hear,” She tried not to sound too smug, but the small smile on her face said otherwise. 
She raised and shook the jello container in her hand. 
“I’m gonna leave this here,” she placed it on the table. “I’ll be back in a bit.” 
“Thanks Blake,” you thanked as she left. 
Once she was gone you quietly giggled and mumbled “oh my god,” under your breath. 
“You know, she kept teasing me asking when I was going to ask you out. And don’t even get me started on Morgan,” he chuckled, shaking his head. 
Your jaw dropped and eyes furrowed. “Did everyone else know but me?” 
He pressed his lips in a thin line, “pretty much.” 
“I must be a shitty profiler,” you half joked.
“Absolutely not,” he said in the most comforting voice. He brushed the hair that had fallen in front of your face behind your ear. 
“You’re an amazing profiler.” 
You smiled that smile he loved so much. The one where you couldn’t hide your joy and your nose crinkled. 
“So, how do you think you’ll spend all those moments with me?” you inquired with a bit of a teasing tone. 
“Doing anything sweetheart,” he answered seriously. He looked at you with awe written all over your face. “I'm ready for anything with you.” 
“in omnia paratus” - ready for anything
Tag asks: @adrienneleclerc @ladybirdbeetle7
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vxnuslogy · 2 days
Text
— pasalubong.
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pairing: kinich x gn!reader
premise: kinich wasn't a sentimental person at heart, until you left to travel. neither was he easily upset, but here he was, undoubtedly upset that you didn't give him a gift with your recent package.
— warnings: ooc-kinich and ajaw (still havent done the new aq), he's a bit down bad, and misses you dearly.
— author's note: this is not angst despite the premise LMFAO. art credits to @.n429g on twt. | 1.6k words.
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“delivery for kinich!” a mail man shouted, trying his best to not look down over the ledge the scions of the canopy is held. “delivery for ki—”
“i heard ya!” the small dragon yells, taking the sealed letter and small box from the man’s hands and throws a pouch of mora as thanks. 
the man sweat drops at the comical sight of the tiny dragonlord floating up to where kinich was. said man was dangling his legs over the ledge, hair swaying with the wind and an indifferent look on his face as he swats away his small companion and roughly takes the letter in his hands. he could only assume that the two had started another argument once again.
with a sigh, he cups a hand to his mouth and shouts, “thank you for your patronage!”
kinich looked in his direction and gave him a small nod. there were few postal workers here in natlan, so he made sure to at least pay the man generously—especially with how his legs shake and hand clutch the side of the mountain for dear life.
ajaw continued to punch and tug at his head but his attention had zeroed in on the envelope. it felt heavier than the last and you had sent a small package with it. ‘for my dearest, kinich & almighty dragon lord, ajaw.’ the small note said with your signature right below it as well as a wax seal at the corner. your penmanship makes kinich smile and before ajaw can open his mouth, he takes the grapple on his waist and zips away to find a secluded place to open your gifts. they were sacred to him and therefore had to be treated with utmost care.
when he lands on teticpac peak, he sits down by one of the rocks and gently peels away the seal. kinich makes a mental note to stop by a market to get a new container for all your letters, after all, his bedside drawer can only hold so much of you over the years. 
‘to my dearest, kinich,’
with just four words, you had him smiling like a fool. one hand propped behind his back to support his weight as he leisurely soaks in your stories like a sponge. ajaw sits by his shoulder, impatiently demanding him to open the box that came along with your letter. kinich was not even half way with reading before he relented—you always had a knack for making pages and pages of stories, but he didn’t mind. you have been away for nearly 7 years now and send only a letter or two every few years. kinich learned to appreciate the pages of your love every time they arrive.
“hurry up!” ajaw demanded, waiting with bated breath as kinich opened the box. “learn to be patient, ajaw.”
the dragon only huffed and turned around but it didn’t take long before he dove head first into the array of gifts. while his little companion drowned in material luxuries, kinich took out items in piles and made a mental note to give them to their respective owners.
kinich tucked the small pouch with xilonen’s name along with your letter for her at his side. he will deliver these to her first, he concludes. as he’s sifting through the items, kinich catches a glimpse of ajaw sitting on a toy fox’s head with a small note with kachina’s name. the final item that seemed important was a small box containing colorful seashells with mualani’s name on it.
his brows furrowed in confusion as he sets all the gifts down carefully and sifts through the package one more time. and again, and again, until his lower back felt sore. ajaw noticed his antsy behavior and decided to look at what all the fuss was about. kinich sat down, head lowered with his bangs covering his eyes—ajaw was beginning to worry (but he would rather die than verbally admit it).
“hey!” ajaw turned to kinich who had stiffly stood up. clutching at your letter as the sliver of expectancy in his eyes dimmed. “don't tell me they actually forgot about you?”
“let’s go back,” he says with a subtly sullen voice. “we have to deliver these to the others.”
ajaw makes no further comment and sits on his shoulder as they zip from one place to another. he doesn’t point out the way kinich’s eyes looked duller and the way a frown tugged at his lips—he was upset. 
“hmph! i'll be sure to show them a piece of my mind when they get back!" the dragon complains to him as they arrive back home. kinich beelined his way back to his residence, a bit more aggressive than he normally would.
he doesn’t want to admit that he was upset—it was stupid. so what if you didn’t get him a gift after not hearing from you for almost a year? but how come everyone else had one? hell even citlani and mavuika received one, so why didn’t he?
with a click of his tongue he pushed past all the people in his way, muttering half hearted apologies here and there as ajaw kept calling his name. kinich was not upset nor was he disappointed—he wasn’t a child chasing after the trail of gold you left behind anymore. he was an adult now, someone people look up to and admire. kinich was no longer the shy kid that always wondered if he could ever chase after you.
“kinich!”
with the shout of his name, he was taken back to memory lane. how you would call to him from the ground, a pair of wheels at your feet as you glided through the rocky terrain as if it were made of ice. the smile you flash him as you point to your finish line makes his heart skip a few beats, rendering him only to reply in a nod because his mind has turned into a mushy puddle. 
“kinich!”
you have always been golden in his eyes. smiles bright like the sun, kindness gentle like its morning rays, and hypnotizing in the starry trail you leave behind. kinich remembers the first time he tried his hands on rollerblades. he felt unwittingly afraid of standing on his own two feet, the possibility of his world turning upside down with one single step scared him. but you were always there to ward away his fears. it wasn’t long before he took them off and said with a dead expression that he will never try them again. the laugh that he managed to steal from your lungs made all his suffering worth it.
“kinich!”
he doesn’t like letting things go, not when you’ve taught him how to cherish every little thing. but he’d hate himself if he kept you from your dreams. so there he was, all those years ago, standing by natlan’s borders, unable to say goodbye as the rest bid theirs. you had to make him face you—gently cupping his jaw with both hands and flashing a small smile, giving him a tempting offer.
“let me stay,” you said. you were willing to give up your dreams if it meant making him happy. kinich didn’t want his happiness, he wanted yours.
“leave,” he said bluntly. it made you laugh because it sounded incredibly rude, but the way he held your hand in his shaking hold, lip bitten until it almost bled, everyone knew he was struggling the most.
“i’ll give you souvenirs,” you offered as consultation and it took every willpower he had to say he only wanted you. 
“i’ll keep them safe.” he replied and you smiled.
“kinich!”
urging you to travel has been the best and worst decision in his life—you were enjoying your life but he was stuck missing you. his longing for the sun in his life greatly outweighed his happiness for you. how can he be happy when happiness is spelled with your name? the way you smile, and the way you leave a golden trail?
“kinich.”
“ajaw, enou—” his sentence was cut off when he turned to look at the smiling faces of his tribe. brows furrowed in confusion as he searched the crowd for a certain green dragon, but all his eyes could see was gold.
the wind in his lungs was stolen as the images of smiling faces turn to fade, his attention solely on you in the distance, ajaw by your side as you both waved him over. as fast as the winds could take him, kinich ran straight in your arms—his home. your laugh ringed like morning birds and your hands felt warm like the afternoon heat. you were home; you were his gift.
“pasalubong, for kinich,” you say with a teasing lilt to your voice. 
“pasalubong?” he repeats, hands coming to cradle your smiling face. “what does that mean?”
you smile wider and hold his hands with your own. “it means gifts given by homecomers. but,” you tuck away a stray piece of his hair behind his ear as you tempt him in another embrace. “it can also mean ‘to meet again.’”
kinich laughed—airy and bright, like the setting sun. this was so you, he thought, burying his head in your neck. trying to make up for all the lost physical contact he had missed. 
“thank you for the gift.” he said with a smile.
you pat him on the back and hummed in delight. “i came back just for you.”
“i’m honered,” he jests and takes a step back, not letting your hand go. “you should be! the trip back home is nothing short of tedious!”
he chuckles because kinich knows he’s a goner. no need for xilonen’s amused teasing, mualani’s persistence and kachina’s curiosity. everyone in his tribe and maybe even natlan knew, kinich would wait for you knowing you’ll eventually come home to him.
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© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.
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court-jobi · 3 days
Text
Meal Prep
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((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's works or the lovely art found here))
Pairing: Bakugo x reader (biker!prohero reader, afab pronouns used)
Words: 5k
Rating: M | 18+ (begone, minor extras- it's too spicy for you, Kacchan says so)
Warnings: hand-holding sexy times, first time!Bakugou/reader, food and commitment as a love language, FEELINGS, accidental quirk use, pet names, piv smut, established relationship, wrap it up, this is fantasy
Summary:
Katsuki made you food; fuel and comfort all in one. He won’t let you touch that door handle in the car even if you’re the one driving, and calls you Angel Eyes like it’s your name. He’s not just the badass of the agency office who stuns you with his strength and resolve; he’s ready and willing to take a step beside you and do life together.  And you in turn want to be soft for him, want to give in and let him take care of you. That brand of love made you want to jump his bones.
A/N: It's spice, yall. Someone needs to rein their quirk in, and I'm not naming names (Katsuki Bakugou)
For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!
Read on AO3
When Bakugou turned to his side -feeling the hand at his lower back- and went to lift you up on the counter for some kisses, something just... came over you. 
Your moves were tame at first- rubbing his chest and shoulders at the moment’s reprieve. Just giving yourself sweetly into it. Now with his hands on you, he got really hard really fast, and made some quip about you getting fresh between shared ravishments of love. 
Sure, you were biting at his lips longer than usual. Sure, you were hanging onto him in a manner far more codependent than you'd ever claim to be. By the look in his eye, he wasn't ever gonna be caught complaining, though. You’ve  been stared at and longed after across any room you're in just as wantonly, and he's the first to second your opinion when it matters. He calls you every night he's away for missions, and stays his need to sleep just to be able talk to you while your time zones are flip-flopped. 
Although, it was rather hungry of you to be so enamored by him today: where even the simplest conversation about the prices of strawberries going up made you fall slack into him. 
He asks what brought this on~ 
"Just love having you here,” you surmised, “I– like not doing these things alone." 
You’d made the economical offer to cook together and split the bills. Since your diets were fairly similar anyway, you might as well buy in bulk. He was in an indulgent headspace tonight, since he’d been laying on the pet names thick all day; this, his rare day off. Yours is tomorrow, but you were fortunate enough to get off at a decent hour to get the grocery shopping done early- with him. 
– only Bakugou enforced a strict habit of insisting on taking care of the receipt at the store, but never letting you settle up your half. The ‘slip of the mind’ he suffered from the first time was no longer an accident, but a routine.
Now, two stacks of four portioned meals each lay side by side prepped in the fridge. Some additional protein packs top your stash to keep on hand between long night drives; small and compact, they help fuel you mid-mission so you don’t have another repeat of a blood sugar drop while enroute with a squad of heavyweight heroes making a cross-city trek. Bakugou preferred to pick out treats as a surprise in those meal kits. Trivial as gift giving goes, but it offers some enrichment to your otherwise predictable menu. You haven’t seen what he’d snuck in the cart underneath that bag of string beans this time, and just saw their packed away presence in the fridge, teasing you.
But back at the sink where he’d begun to wash up, you ignored their mystery. Now, you just wanted to show him how much he was appreciated.
Yes, something switched in your brain: making meals together, sharing cleanup duties, counting these little moments as blessings and feeling like life’s weight wasn't all just on you put you in a mood. You both might not have necessarily gotten too fresh before today, but this wasn’t simply a domestic dance with lust.
Katsuki made you food; fuel and comfort all in one. He won’t let you touch that door handle in the car even if you’re the one driving, and calls you Angel Eyes like it’s your name. He’s sharp and fast to stop you from doing something stupid, and was the loudest voice in the room when your top 20 ranking was announced across the agency conference table. He’s not just the badass of the agency office who stuns you with his strength and resolve; he’s ready and willing to take a step beside you and do life together. 
And you in turn want to be soft for him, want to give in and let him take care of you.
He wanted to show you he loved you; down to the grind of meal prepping on a Sunday night. That brand of love made you want to jump his bones.
Your adoring man nuzzles and talks to your neck, "Gettin' sappy again, angel."
He is down bad for you: no matter how sassy he makes the observation sound– that scratchy, rumble tone doesn’t help with your dizzying brain at all.
You offer up your neck a little, scratching along the base of his spine for full, soothing effect.
"Whass’wrong with that?" 
Bakugou simply purrs back happily.
"Cuz if you start saying shit like that, I'mma start sayin' shit. Shit I won't be able to stop spewing once I start."
"Maybe I don't want you to stop."
He senses your heart peeking through your words. Your eyes carry the message loud and clear, too, though they’re having a hard time staying open from the headrush. 
Lifting his heavy head, Bakugou studies you thoughtfully, before stepping into this soft side of yours.
"You don't want me to stop." 
Of course you don’t, so you shake your head.
"You want me to stay." 
Through a smile, you give your shy agreement. 
Even more vulnerable, Bakugou’s rare touch of a smile makes its appearance,
"You want me to stay forever? Make sure my lady's fed and happy?”
"Yes," you sink into him, happier than ever. 
"Looks like I'm staying then. Already made you dinner. Whaddya want me to do next?" 
"Hmm– kiss me?" 
Bakugou leans in to grant you your simple wish- but fully laps at your mouth instead. He means to entice, draw things out, make you want him that much more while giving himself nothing but torture at the same time. He’s used to making himself sweat; at least this was the fun simmer that didn’t burn.
The blonde moans low in his chest when you brush his cheek’s scar with your thumb. 
"Whaddya want, pretty girl,” Bakugou scoops you in close, memorizing this hot look of need you’re having right in the middle of chores, “What, y’want me to kiss you forever too?" 
Fixed on his lips -currently teased between his teeth- you give a rare curse that contrasted your sugar sweet demeanor, 
“Hell yes--" 
Kisses smash between you as sloppily as you want while he pulls you off the counter, over to the couch, and plops you on his lap, where you adjust to a squat over him and followed his persistent pull for you to sit. 
Pink lovemarks all over your neck, Bakugou’s rough attentions drive his hands to go just about anywhere he wants in a need-driven frenzy. Whether to warm you up or keep himself from perspiring too much? Who's to say.
Suddenly as he growled out his pleasure at your hips fitting up upon his lap, Bakugou fisted your  shirt in each palm– he tugs you deliciously tight as you kiss the daylights out of him.
Through his satisfied chuckles, he thought all was good until he started feeling some pops muffling in his hands. 
Bakugou knows what's coming– it's the speed of this onset that freaks him out-
His senses shout at him lightning quick, so it's a miracle that Bakugou immediately threw his hands out, shooting off hot sparks with palms out towards the coffee table- spooking you into a yelp. 
The panic settled just as soon as it came– you stared at each other after the round of pops stopped. 
Somehow, you were never afraid he’d ever sweat to the point of harming you, so you rolled with it as if he didn’t just almost blow you to bits. Must just be excited. 
Cheeky, you  thumbed to your bedroom before mimicking a Dynamight-style ‘stressball’ in your palm.
"Need your gloves?"
Bakugou rolled his eyes, "Fuck.... Fine."
As if a little coverage on his hands was going to be the end of the world. 
"I could make a condom joke instead, so be grateful!~" 
A pruned hand smacked your thigh in protest. “Har. Har.”
As you dismounted him (since you knew he was just gonna be pouty and sulk until he could touch you again), you pulled him up by his neckline so that he followed hungrily behind you and didn't cause a stink over it. In your room, you dug in his designated helmet for his gloves, which he roughly handled and donned while you rounded his strong set of shoulders and kissed him through it across the bits of skin you could reach.
"Can't believe I gotta put these fuckin’- things on- every time I get hot and fuckin' bothered-” 
"We'll figure that out, honey. Hey,” you pull him up to your sightline, “You still got me?”
Gloved but no less handsome as ever, Bakugou looks far too dazed to try his hand at driving your bike. Better he crash here, with you. He grabs you close; his answer.
“-- then there’s no complaints here. It’ll work; for now."
He moans kind of high and happy into your kisses on his mouth again. The sound ripples in you, coaxing more love out from your needy fingers and gentle kneading and soft layers that he’s mad he couldn't reciprocate anymore. He voiced this displeasure when he tugged up on your thighs and tipped you onto the bed. Setting a knee between your thighs and capturing a hand in his to pin you, Bakugou firmed up his brows, 
"Well, maybe I wanna feel you BACK, huh?"
"I get that, Katsu-honey~ we'll-- work on it. Learning curve." 
One thing the Hero World would be fast to assume about Katsuki Bakugou is that he'd take whatever he wanted from someone making eyes at him; that he'd be dominant and mean and addictive and that one might regret pushing his buttons in the bedroom, because it would be far too much. ‘Better not test him, he’d be too rough.’ But you hardly think this way, as you have him here:
Here, you look up to him, lovesick and shy, pulling him down because he feels too far away. And tempered as he is when he's in deep, Bakugou reads you and quickly responds in kind. He does kneel over and meets your lips, but freezes like steel as he tries to figure out how to be close but not crush you, despite your yanking for it.
"Katsuki~~"
"I'm not dropping ninety-five kilos a’ dead weight on you, dummy,” he chortled, “Not gonna happen."
"But I want you~~"
"Oh, you want me, huh? Needy girl..." Pets caressing down your cheek, you cup your Katsuki’s arm instead as it trails gingerly down the neck, stopping at your collar, until you force it down its path more towards your chest, and lower. 
His touch carries very little pressure. Rather, you see him just watching his own movements in a haze- "Pretty, pretty girl."
A thought crosses your mind and you feel confident; if you voice it, he’ll answer you honestly. 
"Have you never dated anyone before, ‘Dynamight’?"
Without an immediate defense, you're happy to see he’s still letting you guide his hand to slide under your shirt collar and sift along your bra line. 
Unphased, he answers a gentle -but surprising- ‘no’.
"No high school crushes?" you press, flattered.
"Tch, I went to UA. When would I have had time for that?" Bakugou slides your strap and shirt more to the side as he explores, then kisses the shoulder.
Breathy, you challenge after your happy hums. “Kirishima did..."
He only gave a bemused scoff.
“And look where that got him. Is he anywhere close to being #1?" asks the #5 ranked Pro Hero.
"No,"
Bakugou’s gloved palms have successfully reached your breasts, pulling the rest up and off with confidence now, eyeing over your skin deliciously. 
"Guess who is?"
"Y-you~"
"Damn right." Bakugou licks and teases around the space your nipple would lie under the cup, "And y’know how I did it?"
Sights locked onto him, pulling other side down to sift your underclothes up to his gloved hand's touch.
"I'm a fast learner. That's how you get to be the best. Learn fast, do it right. Gets you results at the top of the board. I'm damn good at learning something I want; 'specially when that something's you."
You can’t keep quiet now. Not at this, your forever favorite Pro Hero undressing you with eyes and hands, 
"Ugh God..."
His hands pawed at every bit of you.
"Name's Katsuki, Angel Eyes. But I'll answer to that if you want~"
Your sexy laugh turned to a moan as he sucked hard at your neck to please you, then worked on getting himself fully topless to match. Once laid back with a delightful little jiggle of everything wonderful, Bakugo's sight lay fixed on you, hands running everywhere he could reach now. 
For once, he looked a little scattered, unsure what to do next besides pet you and breathe.
You teased a leg up his, and tried prying his hard shell open again, "There's no wrong way to play, y'know~"
"Heh?"
"You look like you're working-" you rubbed your own tits, a handful each, "-trying to figure out your next move. But really, there's no bad option. It's just me."
Understanding, he nodded, but still looked conflicted.
"And I don't bite, promise~" you tried for levity, finally making him chuckle a little and bring life to his smirk.
"Y'might as well, looking at me like that."
"What, this?" you kneaded and pushed your tits together.
"Fuck, me..."
"S'what I'm saying."
Then in a sweet move, Bakugou pulls you up to cradle you by your jawline and kisses you lovingly, then holds your foreheads in place while he takes a couple practiced inhales. 
Beneath you, you see how excited he is, but also how tense his core has become. It ever so barely trembles.
A muted string of a confession leaves him, 
"I talk big shit... but... never done this part." –this part being sex, you now gather- "Sue me if I'm tryna do right by you. I- feels like my heart's literally goin’ a mile a minute here, what the hell..."
"Mine too~" you run a soothing drag of your nails up his arms before smoothing up and over to his waist, "You are doing right by me, though~ just go with what feels right. I just want you, Kats."
"Yeah?"
"I want you,” you assure him with charged-up love and desire for him, “-so bad."
That was seemingly all he needed to clear his head because he fell right down to you, crawling beside you and scooping you up into his arms where he could trail his hand all up the expanse of your back. Somewhere in there, he slipped off your pants and took the chance to feel all up and down your legs with greedy chuckles.
He'd moan what a gorgeous sight and gentle thing you were, his mouth leaving no limb untouched or unpraised. He's also high on the attention you gave him right back, especially when you tipped him onto his back and kissed along the lines of his chest. Bruises and dips mark up his otherwise perfect skin, but you're pleased to have your Katsuki enjoying this if his sighs are any indication of his arousal. 
Bakugou quirks a brow as he settles back, preparing for you to mount and have your way with him. Consent is king and he doesn't wanna force you to be in a position you don't want.
“Y’want me here?” he asks with hands supporting your waist. “Show me how it's done?”
The sight below you has you ready to pass out on the spot. He’s handsome and horny and all yours.
"Ready when you are~" 
The line between Dynamight and the man behind the title is blurred as he settles into a cocky smirk. He's proud and never one to shy away from attention- not even this, so it seems. 
Bakugou chips his chin up at you with his full support. 
"Atta girl~" 
You whimper when you grind on top of him at first: not simply at how hot the first pass is for you after so long, but how wrecked Bakugou looks as he exhales with force. It's an effort to will himself still, and you love the look of it on him. 
Pride surges in you as you sway yourself over him, checking him over and making sure he's comfortable. 
“You got me?”
His sights open again, to you in all your glory. Any edge he carries in his waking hours is gone as he's let comfort and ease take the wheel over his nervous system. 
Bakugou is pretty damn adorable this way, but you'd only ever say so when he's fully confident- not out on a limb trying something this new with you for the first time. Here, you'd build up his confidence and see how he rises to the challenge. But you’ll go slow, above all else.
Fingers find renewed life as he squeezes you,
“I got you,” he says in wonder, getting there, “I gotcha." 
But right before you lifted up to let him shove his waistline down, he stopped you from sitting with a hard hand at your tummy. In a quick switch, he's cursing nervously about needing to wrap it up. 
Before he could toss you off, you brought his face back to you with a tender hand, keeping him from getting up altogether and bolting for his bag slung somewhere in the kitchen. 
"I'm covered on that front, hon,” you stifle any laughing at his earnest pursuit, “Planned a bit ahead- got in with the nurse a few months back."
Bakugou stills, but then his confusion and concern give way to something deeper. He’s looking at you, awed. 
"You're on it-?"
"Mhm. I'm all set, baby. There's no one else, just– just you. I won't stop ya if you'd feel better with one on, just wanted you to know. " 
Fondness for the hero-turned-friend-turned-lover made you rake your fingers through that mess of blond hair you daydream of petting and bringing out a groan from him all by yourself, 
"However you want me: inside or out~"
Recognition heats him up more, "You sexy, fuckin' girl..."
Catching you back in his arms, Bakugou falls in love all over again. He’s sinking into you sideways, hiking your leg up and over his hip and just holding you close– your man is all in for this the moment he's submerged in you.
"FUUUUUuuuuuck yehehehess…”
You're overwhelmed and giddy and full, and find that it's not just you who's laughing by the time you make eye contact. It's thrilling and perfect that you're here -doing it- and you’re obsessed with how close you two are in this moment that it makes your relief palpable and light-hearted. 
After heated kisses to get him to actually start moving, you're turning every laugh into a love-filled moan: a sound that Bakugo chases with everything in him. 
Eventually the momentum is like a run, fueling him with the more he hears, and is soon tipping you back to settle on top himself-- in charge and letting you take backseat. By how you gawk up at the show of strength, it’s more than alright with you~
"Oh my God, yes sir!!" you squeal seeing him in charge.
"Yeah? Like this, pretty girl?” Bakugou is in his element, despite having just joined the party moments ago, “Y’like your ‘Backpack’ on top, makin sure you don't move a fuckin’ muscle?"
Each huff and moan he makes glues your sights to the spot- head dipping to where you are slamming together, which only makes him ramp it up even more to give you a show.
‘Yeah yeah yeah-- oh FUCK, why haven't I gotten my head out of my ass sooner, you are FUCKING incredible!--’
The sounds Bakugou’s making are passionate and raw, even more so as you're close and you tell him so through near tears. You’re about to cum, embarrassingly fast for you- but then why wouldn't you when the sight of the love of your life is rocking your world off its hinges and sending you into the best headspin?
"Do it baby, do it do it do it~" he growls the freedom deliciously to you– so you will your hand to let go of the comforter and start rubbing your clit wildly to get you over the edge, till you're bucking up and siezing through relieved sobs. 
Bakugou almost damn near chokes on his own shock at the feel, yet only slows a little bit while he holds you down, holds you through it. Once you’re reaching up for his shoulders again -your cue that you're ok and settled - he dives down to your level for some hard kisses as a reward.
Somehow he breaks from the haze of you deliriously giggling for him soon enough, gasping out  desperate lines that nearly made your heart explode– all while going right back to fighting like mad to go over the edge like you did.
“Fuck, I love you.. fuck, I love you, fuck fuck fuck–”
The closer he gets, the hand pinning yours to the bed starts to burn– which takes your attention.
From watching him fuck you to check your joined wrists is more urgent: Bakugou’s forearm is trembling and visibly sweating all down to the cuff absorbing the rest.
Pretty much sobered you right up by the incoming pain, you're surprised, but you fake it in your bliss and rush him along anyway, until he cries out and shudders into your neck as he finishes– kissing it lightly in thanks muttering all sorts of nonsense you couldn't make out once he sinks onto you- spent.
“Fun, right baby?”
Bakugou’s grunting at every little move of his body.
“S’... M’dizzy,” he rasps, “S’it always dizzy?”
Under a spell yourself, unearth some spare sass n’ sweetness from your back pocket, 
“When it's good,” you give your valid opinion, your free hand making your mark along his arm to settle him down, “when they listen to what you need, n’ when they can provide- even before any clothes come off. I find it best that way, that is…”
Bakugou’s head lolls to the side, pressing a kiss to the tender space just in front of your ear.
“That it is…”
Your palm is pulsing. Hot. But still, you let him find rest, wondering more if he was ok since he was never EVER this gushy, but as his release turned into relieved laughs, Bakugou bridged over you to blow your hair back with a playful gust of his lips and gave you some more indulgent kisses. Sweet as ever, you kissed him back and pressed into his thumb working over your still joined hands.
"You like me~" you taunted.
"huh?~~”
"Y’said you loved me..."
Katsuki giggled, "Shuddup, dummy."
This prompted your tug to free your hand again, hissing when he released and revealed your palm: tinged with an onset of a blister, splotchy with heat–
"THE FUCK??!!” Bakugou noticed the damage himself, “DAMMIT, why didn't you SAY I was cooking you alive??" 
At his apology ridden eyes, you didn't want this hiccup to stall the moment you'd just shared. Flexing each of your hands easily, you shook off any look of pain and beamed up at him instead. 
"You weren't! It just got a lil hot~" he looked at your face again, confused as to why you're not upset at his repeat offense, "BBQ, amiright?" 
Your no-longer sweetheart growls down at you, textbook Bakugou BiteTM.  "NOT. funny." 
You laughed at the nature of it all. 
"I'm ok, baby. Whew... Oh my God~"
Your relief is something fuzzy and delighted to you, but knowing how your darling Katsuki gets in his own head about how fiery his quirk can be, you give him a little wink to quell any fears. 
It works, as your assurances always do. He admires your sated bones and lays another sloppy smooch on you. A silent promise; he’ll take a look at your hand in a bit. 
In moving up your body to reach his shirt to wipe himself with, he slipped out, still hot and heavy (given that he came already) and undeniably turned on- even in this state. You cringed at the mess hitting the cooler air. Hearing your complaint, Bakugou pecked your cheek and nuzzled you back adoringly. 
"Love you, angel.”
"I love you too~" your easy reply passes your lips wistfully.
A dry ache in his chest, he made to rise and see about getting you two a little more comfortable, feeling that same wetness too and grumbled about washing his damn hands, but you stopped him with a little whine.
"Stay~~" 
Crimson eyes softening to yours, the boyish charm returns to Bakugou’s otherwise stoic demeanor. It's a sign he’s clearly plagued in an afterglow buzz.
"Cmon, lemme clean us up. I need the fan on." 
Even colder? Darn his body temp. "Nnng.." 
He gets up anyway, but promises his return with a chip to your chin, "I'll stay, gorgeous. Told you so. I'll stay as long as you want tonight." 
When he came back with the wet washcloth, he coaxed you to stand on your own and go take care of yourself, too. The top sheet is changed and re-tucked in before you got back– mismatched from what remained on the bed before, but you didn't really care. 
He’s made himself comfortable in the bed, only slipping on his boxers you can barely catch the edge of from the sheet in his lap. It’s only made you fold all over again- proof that your boyfriend knows where you keep your spare sheets in the first place. 
You slipped on a fresh pair of panties in your pit stop, but went hunting for your loose shirt again, not bothering with anything under. This got Bakugo's attention seems,
"What, you cold?"
"Little bit~"
"M’over here, then," he patted his chest, you joined him, only to have him sneak his arm under your shirt and tease your tits again, "Don't see why you need this shitty thing while I'm around, just gettin' in my way.."
Giggling and sinking into him, you couldn't fault him. He did have to stay gloved for so long earlier. You laid a kiss straight on his cheek while he had his fill of you.
"Happy girl?" he sings down to you.
Happy girl indeed. "Mhm~ Happy Murder God?"
"Heh-yeah,” Bakugou schooled his breaths to sync to you, “I could get used to this."
"We'll figure out the glove thing."
"...M'sorry for almost toasting you.”
“Eh- I can handle a little snap-crackle-pop.”
Bakugou snorts, tapping out the jingle beat for ‘rice crispies’ on your shoulder. All's forgiven on that front. 
“Really shoulda thrown those in the washer," he grimaced above you, looking over at the door where he set them back with his riding gear. 
"We'll get it later," You snuggled down in his arms, happy to take his leftover heat. “Washer’s all yours~”
"Yeah. Yours is better than mine anyway,” Bakugou leans his head fully back onto your propped up pillows. A contented sigh forces the rest of his muscles to lax. “--piece of crap rattles like it's about to blow up. Yer dishwasher’s better too.”
As he chatters away, he played with the ends of your hair absently. 
“I thought you were my dishwasher?”
Bakugou pauses his twirls, “Oi, I never said I was signing up for that! I was bein’ nice.”
“Yes, you were~” you kissed his neck to force his rising growl down. Works every time. You're back to snuggling in his arms with a contented sigh. “I’ll do them next time.”
“If you’re fast enough, slowpoke, then sure.”
You can barely make out your washer thrumming in the next room as well as the even more distant smooth jazz channel streaming from the living room, but remembered your earlier mindset and just hugged him tighter.
This, you'd certainly miss when he went home tonight. Feeling this close, this warm together, having shared something really special and intimate that you couldn't take back for the life of you. It might make things even worse when it comes to your attachment to him– you two are pushing it at the agency with minimal touches unless there's something really scary that forces his walls down in order to comfort you- or vice versa. After all, your affinity for one another is no one’s business but your own… but you typically are satisfied by his more public ties to you in all the ways that matter- mostly to others in your circle and strangers who he threatens to kick if they keep starin’ at you.
But here, Katsuki holding you is second nature. His true nature. He tells you he cares with every returned text, knowing look, and tender touch he keeps limited in shared company- with you as the sole recipient. 
You can only wish this could be your life everyday. Where you can maybe even start your own agency down the line somewhere; Japan’s first true power couple who can take names like none other. Launch yourselves higher and higher, work yourselves out of a job, and take a retirement in whatever way looks best for you–
When you get quiet in your thoughts, he even knows your 'hiding' tell. Your pillow tilts down to try and get your attention, finally demanding your eyes with a question laced with clear thinking,
"You meant stay stay,” Bakugou asked gently, “-didn't you. Not just- for the night.” 
You softened… nodding ever so much. Leaving room, in case he didn't agree.
What you wouldn't give for him to be your meal prep partner till you both retire from hero work- and then some.
Either nothing went through his mind, or one singular anthem bounced around in there, because all Bakugou did to your little melting expression was kiss you softly, turning you back into the bed, and flopping solidly on top of your chest.
"...gimme 30 minutes. Then let's go get my shit. I call the front room work table."
You're over the moon, and your jaw drops on its own. He’s so ready- barely even thought it through! Or maybe… he was always thinking of it, and was waiting on you.
With that excitement flooding you, you peppered his hair full of kisses until he groaned for you to stop– only after the first ten...
489 notes · View notes
on-the-clear-blue · 2 days
Text
Dead Man's Diner drabbles since I need to get back into writing it.
Robber, bursting through the door, gun already pulled out and shouting: EVERYBODY PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP AND OPEN UP YOUR WALLETS
The whole God damn Batfam just looking up from their respective places in the diner:..
Danny, behind the counter, tired as hell from basically taking over feeding them all: Take the fucking shot.
---
Nightwing, laying dramatically over the breakfast bar as Danny walks in, a rose between his teeth: Hi~ I need to place an order
Danny, woke up 15 minutes ago: It is to early for this (it's 7 pm)
Nightwing, watching as Dany just turns around and leaves the diner: Wait no.
---
Bart/Wally/Berry, finally done helping their respective Bat with Gotham Things ™️, stumbling upon the Diner:Sweet, no need to run back home on empty!
Danny, seeing the one that he has seen Clockwork scream about walk into his diner: shit I gotta make a call.
(15 Minutes later)
Bart/Wally/Berry crying into a massive plie of pancakes as Clockwork reads them yo filth.
---
Wes, grumbling as he is kicked out of the diner for the fifth time this week: God damn it Fenton! Stopping hiding your ghostly existence! The people demand the truth!
Bernard, there because Tim recommended it, trying and failing to hit taking him there for a date, head snapping over to Wes like a horror movie: I sense a conspiracy theory.
---
Cass, squating on a bar stool: *pouting face*
Danny, squinting at her: No.
Cass, looking up at him with the most hurt expression: *kicked puppy look*
Danny, feeling terrible:Okay! Okay I will get Cujo to come over! A-and I will throw in Ellie!
Cass, breaking unto a smile: and hot coco?
Danny, fully broken by her: Sure, why the hell not.
---
Tucker and Sam, finally coming into the diner: honestly? Not as bad as I thought it would be.
(A Bat getting chucked through the door, and Rouge following after)
Tucker:Holy...is he okay?
Sam: I take back what I said.
Danny, looking at the property damage:Nope...nope this is normal, Red Hood your tab just doubled.
Jason, fully concussed: Sure thing...babe...
---
Based on an idea I have for later on, Jason and Danny are in the middle stage between friends and Dating and Jason finally gets to meet the other two of the everlasting trio...
Sam, has a baseball bat in hand that is starting to sprout out branches: You hurt Danny and you'll end up dead again, and this time you won't have the hands to dig your way out.
Tucker, with sparks flashing in his eyes and a grin on his face, his PDA blinks with info that no civilian should have: Jason Peter Todd-Wayne, I know all about you, mess things up with Danny and your Pride and Prejudice Self insert fanfiction gets shared with your family, as well as your Wattpad and Tumblr accounts will be sent directly to the Justice Leauge.
Jason, crying a little bit:Danny your friends are terrifying.
Danny, walking out in a pink apron:Oh shit...ugh, Sam! Tucker! I told you dont do that!.
---
Vlad, being a creep to Danny: Oh little badger...truly looking forward to seeing you begging for your life once more
Jason, equidded with Fenton works guns: Anyway I started Blasting.
587 notes · View notes
dragonsholygrail · 2 days
Text
The Mist Switch
Male Fairy x Elf fem!reader— aphrodisiac mist, dub con, nipple play, bondage (vines), clit play, tentacle penetration (vines again), voyeurism
As Elves, neither you nor your elf friend you were secretly crushing on knew just how long your prank war had been going on for. You had started it, of course, after chickening out of your attempt to kiss him and instead pushed his face into a pie.
Ever since then you two had been pranking each other every now and then whenever the mood strikes. The last prank was done by you when you put meat in his trousers and got a beast to chase him around for a bit.
Now was his time to prank you back. He had it all planned. He hired a little fairy to spray you with a magical mist that for 24 hours would turn you into the size of a fairy. Oh he’d torture you until you cracked and finally confessed your love for him.
Could he just admit he loved you too? Yes. Would he? Not when this option was so much more fun.
The little fairy flew and flew until he found you frolicking in a nearby meadow. You looked so beautiful, your soft curves glimmering in the sunlight. As he flew closer he couldn’t stop himself from imagining the way he’d suck on your hard nipples, bringing you to release from that one touch alone. Before he’d move down and stuff his face against your entrance just so he can taste how sweet you are straight from the source.
His mind was hazy with lust as he reaches you, his eyes unfocused on anything beside your gorgeous plump body. Blindly reaching into his bag of magic he sprays some mist in your face at the same time you spot him.
“What just happened?!” You ask in alarm, looking at the unknown fairy who’s staring at you like he wants to devour you.
A warm buzz begins to flood through your body. Making you tingly and aroused. Your eyes widen as you rub your thighs together for some friction. Your pussy gushing with arousal.
“W-what did you do? Who are you?” You ask breathlessly, wanting nothing more than to take this strange fairy suffocate him with your pussy.
The fairy looks at you in shock over your reaction, having no idea what went wrong. You’re not shrinking at all! He looks down at his hand and only now notices he sprayed you with the aphrodisiac mist instead of the shrinking mist! His cheeks burn red from embarrassment.
“I-I was hired to prank you with a shrinking mist but it seems as though they got mixed up,” he explains bashfully, showing you the bottle.
You internally curse your friend for hiring such a dumb fairy but also god do you wish he was here to take care of you. Your eyes fall back on the fairy… the incredibly sexy fairy. Fuck, you just needed something to ease the fire burning hot inside you and soaking your panties.
“Well you caused this so you need to take care of it. Now!” You say with a huff.
You lay in the bed of flowers, throwing your robes off recklessly. Not caring about anything other than this fairy getting you off. The fairy looks down at you in awe, all his recent fantasies coming true. He wonders if he subconsciously did this on purpose just so he could fuck you, but he wouldn’t think about that right now. Not when you need him so badly.
The fairy’s wings flutter and he’s flying down on top of you before you can change your mind. Not that you would with your need so unbearable. He lands on your soft belly and he could just melt into you, your skin is so warm and lovely. You hiss the moment he touches you, you’re so sensitive you could cum just from his little body grinding onto you.
Using his strength he picks up your breast and opens his mouth wide to suck on your hard nipples just as he imagined. You moan loudly, hips jerking in the air. The little fairy holds on tight and sucks greedily on the bud, basking in the way you writhe against the grass.
“P-please! I need more,” you beg, your mind lost to the lust that rages through you.
The fairy releases your nipple with a loud pop. He flies down to your glistening cunt, your folds all lovely and wet and waiting for him. His cock tents in his small pants, getting harder and harder the longer he touches you. Using his body he spreads your fat lips and you moan, trying to rock closer to him. He cries out, holding onto you so he doesn’t fall off.
With a bit of his own magic he commands vines close by to wrap around your arms and legs, tying you firmly you to the ground. You gasp and squirm against them, their rough caress only turning you on even more.
The fairy pulls down his pants and lines his aching cock up against your clit. He grinds into you and you both release long ragged moans. His own mind begins to cloud over and all he can focus on is giving you both the pleasure you need so bad.
Your body twitches and shakes with deep pressure of the fairy’s cock rubbing your clit so nicely. You can feel his hips snap against your core, short grunts leave you every time his balls slap against your over sensitive clit. The vines stopping you from moving with him or moving away from the unrelenting pleasure.
Yet you still have a deep rooted need to be filled to the brim and you throw your head back, the fire inside you only getting hotter without your release. Sensing what you need, the fairy uses more of his magic and a second later you jump as long thick vines slide deep inside your hot wet cunt.
The fairy and his vines work in tandem to bring you higher and higher. The fairy digs his fingers into your wide waist and ruts into you like a madman, wildly desperate to feel you come undone because of him. All while his vines plunge deep into your depths, brushing along your gummy walls and hitting you just right.
You cum with a fierce scream that echoes throughout the meadow. The fairy releases soon after you, his hot cum jolting outward and spraying all over your delicious belly.
The fairy sags against you, completely spent. The two of you lay there, your limbs still tied to the ground as you both shake with the force of your release. You can feel the heat inside you start to settle a little yet it’s still there, just waiting to ignite.
The sudden sound of a branch snapping in the distance has your head jerking up in surprise. You come face-to-face with your elf friend, a smug smirk on his lips. He crosses his arms and leans against a nearby tree. Looking up and down your plump form you can see his own eyes cloud over with lust.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” He asks, pushing off the tree and heading toward you both.
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in-class-daydreams · 2 days
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cw. a lil age gap, but everyone is well over 18 (Gojo and Reader are ~40, Yuta is ~30)
Imagine the way ex-husband Gojo's eye twitches seeing how Yuta Okkotsu treats you.
You and Yuta had only seen each other in passing over the years. In fact, you never even officially met until he was several years out of school on the account of your innate technique causing Rika to go haywire. So while there was always a possibility of you seeing someone after the divorce, Satoru would never in his wildest dreams have guessed who it'd be. He'd heard through the grapevine that you only started seeing more of each other last year.
Satoru has to see you at the biweekly joint staff meetings between the Tokyo and Kyoto schools, made especially awkward after not one, but two (2) post-divorce make outs. The last time he kissed you while you were fighting, you shoved him away and booted him out of the house using your technique. Granted, you kissed him back, but you're not exactly on great terms right now.
So, it's bad enough that he has to see you as much as he does. Even worse is now that everything's out in the open, he has to watch you fawn over someone that's not him.
"You're so sweet!" you cry when Yuta surprises you during your lunch break with takeout from your favorite restaurant. "Thank you so much, but you really didn't have to do all this for me."
Yuta places a hand on the small of your back and guides you towards the door to the courtyard. Adjusting the picnic blanket slung over his shoulder, he asks, "Why not?"
"It's so much effort," you reply.
"For you? Nothing feels like much effort," Yuta says with a cheeky grin.
Satoru just catches a glimpse of you covering your face with your hand - as you always do when you blush - and then the two of you are out the door. It takes all his effort not to gag at how cheesy that was. Never mind how genuine Yuta looked about it.
Of course Satoru had taken you out for lunch while you were together. All kinds of lunches. Mom and pop shops, food stands, upscale restaurants, you'd done it all. Your new suitor wasn't doing anything for you that he hadn't done.
Suitor. What was this, the 1800's?
Suguru appears at his side while he stares after you.
"Was that Yuta?" he asks. "I'm impressed. He's supposed to be at a week-long training in Ibaraki."
Ibaraki? The prefecture that's over two hours away? He came all this way to have lunch with you?
Alright, Satoru never did that. Not that he wouldn't have! He totally would've if he'd, you know, thought of it.
Suguru seems oblivious to the emotional bomb he just dropped on his best friend. "I'm starving. Let's hurry up and go eat. I'm good with anything except KFC," he complains.
It takes a couple tries to get his attention, but Satoru eventually pulls himself out of his thoughts. He comforts himself with the notion that Yuta would be gone by the time he returned.
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Imagine that while Yuta himself may be absent, his presence damn near haunts ex-husband Gojo to death.
You're already back in the meeting room by the time he and Suguru return from lunch, only you now have a full water bottle (he noticed you pout when you drank the last of it earlier), a sleeve of oreos sticking out of your bag, and a cute travel mug full of some hot drink that you definitely didn't have before.
If Satoru wasn't so preoccupied with insisting to himself that, 'I totally did things like that back in the day!' and provided his ex-wife wasn't the woman in question, he'd be thinking, 'Yuta Okkotsu, I was unfamiliar with your game.'
Even more frustrating is how energetic you look. You have your notes out and are nibbling on an oreo, kicking your feet back and forth as if there's not another two and a half hours left of this meeting.
It's not that Satoru doesn't want you to be happy. Quite the opposite, actually, since he'd gladly give his life if he thought he could guarantee your eternal joy and safety. He's just not sure what Yuta has that he didn't. Or doesn't.
"What does she see in him?" Satoru murmurs to himself later, when a bunch of the staff members go out for drinks. You're at the bar laughing with Yuki and Shoko.
He regrets speaking out loud when Sukuna snorts from behind him.
"How much time do we have?" your coworker says with amusement. He slides into the booth, nursing his sake bomb with ice. It's a travesty of a drink, if you ask Satoru, but to each his own.
"Great, it's my least favorite person," Satoru gripes.
Sukuna seems to take great pleasure in Satoru's misery. "I think Okkotsu's earned himself that title."
Now, Satoru hates the taste of alcohol nor is it ever a good idea for someone constantly using a cursed technique to get drunk, but he can't bring himself to care at the moment.
He snatches the drink from Sukuna's hand and downs the whole thing in one go.
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Imagine how baffled ex-husband Gojo is when his son delivers a cursed artifact to him instead of you.
"Where's your mom?" he asks.
Sen hands over the small box covered in talismans while his best friend, Nao, lingers by the office door. Rolling his eyes, he says, "We had a mission in the area, so Sukuna-sensei had us deliver this."
"Not what I asked you, kid," Satoru replies, leaning back in his chair. He gestures for the boys to have a seat, but neither move.
Nao, who has a tendency to stir the pot if he thinks it'll be funny, pipes up, "She's on vacation for a week."
Since when did you take vacations? And why hadn't he heard of this?
"What's she doing for a whole week?" he asks.
Nao replies. "Okkotsu finished his training and whisked her away to some onsen in Obanazawa."
Sen smirks. "That snowy place that looks like it's from Spirited Away? How romantic."
"Super romantic." Stir, stir, stir, Nao Zen'in.
Sen was not a fan of anyone trying to get close to his mom. He'd seen how the divorce hurt you, but so far, Yuta worshipped the ground you walked on, so Sen was at least willing to not be too hostile towards him if it meant antagonizing his father.
Sen and his friend quickly say their goodbyes and head out to do whatever it is high school boys do. Once they're gone, Satoru pulls out his phone and searches 'onsen obanazawa.' The results show Ginzan Onsen, a place with traditional Japanese architecture with a beautiful snowy landscape. But according to the reviews, though a wonderful and charming place, it wasn't from the best onsen in Japan. He wants to scoff at the fact that his supposed 'replacement' chose anything but the best for you, but then he sees where Obanazawa is, which is in Yamagata prefecture.
Where you grew up. Where you and Satoru met.
How had it never occurred to him to bring you back there?
When he mopes on Suguru's couch later that evening, he tells his best friend the whole story. Suguru's delicate features are twisted into a grimace the whole way through.
"Why are you making such an ugly face?" Satoru asks miserably.
"I've never been ugly a moment of my life, Satoru."
"You know what I mean."
Suguru sighs and clicks his tongue. "They're not official?"
"So she keeps saying."
Though reluctant to kick his friend while he's down, Suguru decides that Satoru needs to know so he can mentally prepare himself.
"He's taking her on a romantic trip to a beautiful resort in her home prefecture. They may not be official now, but after a trip like that, there's no way she's coming back without a label. Hell, if they were official, she'd most likely be coming back with a ring."
Hearing that, Satoru contemplates finding a nice spot in the cursed artifact archive and falling into a coma for at least the next thousand years.
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The plot McThickens
Find the other installments of this AU [here] | Find the #gojo sentaro lore [here] | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]
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jinwoosungs · 1 day
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09/21/24; 08:45am
{ drabbles / headcanons }
[ when they break it off with you and regret it ]
featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel
warnings: potentially ooc characters (especially xavier’s). just imagine them under severe stress ;;
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it had been weeks since the last time you had ever spoken to sylus, yet when you tried to dial his number, only to receive a dial tone in return-
you knew something was amiss.
you spent countless sleepless nights, alone in your bed. anxious thoughts haunting every minute that ticks by, making the passing minutes morph into countless hours.
and what was worse?
you stopped seeing signs of mephisto trailing behind you, his beady, black eyes following your every movement while feeding sylus a livestream of what you were doing (a safety measure he had began simply to protect you).
had you done something wrong?
what had changed between you and sylus during the two years you spent dating?
and why was he acting so distant now, without even speaking a word to you?
strengthening your resolve, you got out of bed after work and headed directly towards the n109 zone. despite how you could feel your pounding heart thrumming beneath your throat and the way your palms seemed to sweat with each step that you take.
upon reaching sylus's residence, hand formed into a fist to knock against his door when it suddenly opens, revealing a giggling woman. she nearly runs into you, completely unaware of your presence. her wide, jade-green eyes look back at you, with long lashes that perfectly frames at her face.
her lips were painted a burgundy red, and as she assesses you, her gaze immediately turns hostile. before saying a word, she stops herself, choosing instead to give you a smirk. tossing aside her long curls of auburn hair, she lets out a haughty huff before walking out of sylus's home.
ice was felt running through your veins, making your heart freeze over. you struggled to comprehend what was going on. who was she? and why was she coming out of your boyfriend's home? you stood there, completely dumbfounded and hurt at the thought of sylus's potential betrayal.
as if responding to your turmoil, sylus appears in front of you, a bored expression painting his handsome features with an air of nonchalance. he was dressed in his usual, pristine suit, his crimson eyes no longer filled with warmth as they met your gaze. you shakily call out his name, only to receive an annoyed scoff in response.
"what are you doing here? i thought me blocking you and shutting down all communication with you was clear enough."
you refuse to let the hurt show on your face, clenching your hands together as you balled then into tighter fists. "what do you mean by that? how is it clear enough when what i've always wanted was for you to tell me directly. i thought you would be mature enough to give me a verbal breakup face to face."
sylus lets out a grunt of annoyance, stepping out of his home while meeting you on the steps. "so you could take the hint after all, you just want me to say it? then fine, i'll say it."
he harshly grabs a hold of your chin, placing it within an almost painful, vice grip. he forces you to meet with his gaze, speaking witha finality that manages to shatter your heart into millions of pieces. "we're over. you were nothing more than just a toy for me to kill time with."
a gasp manages to escape from your parted lips, and you immediately shoved yourself away from sylus, tears marring your vision as you ran away from him.
it was over.
the love you felt for him-
the love you worked so hard to protect was gone now-
all because you were simply used as a means to ease sylus's boredom.
{ ... }
you lost track of time, unsure of how long it's been since sylus had called it off so callously with you. the warm seasons had morphed into winter, leaving you with a bitter taste as you realized just how numb you felt.
it was the same routine every day.
wake up.
go to work.
eat the most minimal amount of food, just to sustain yourself to get through the day.
wash away your tears in the shower.
head to bed-
rinse, wash, and repeat.
despite the falling snow, and how it was gently piling up against the sidewalk, you opted out of wearing a proper coat and chose to wear a certain sweater instead. its fabric was already close to being frayed, its cream color reminiscent of just how well it fit against an impossibly handsome face with gentle, rufescent eyes.
you didn't know why you still kept his sweater. perhaps you were still deluding yourself into believing sylus still loved you. the single item you had kept from him still had his lingering scent, and whenever you closed your eyes, you could imagine it was sylus's arms wrapped tightly around you, securing you with his warmth.
a shudder courses through your body, with your eyes simply focusing on the footprints your boots made into the snow. you were getting closer to your apartment complex, ready to take those concrete steps two at a time before something distracts you from moving forward.
settled directly in front of the stairs was a wrapped present that had your full name on it. the curiosity you felt ends up warding off the cold momentarily, making you curious as to who had given you this gift.
ignoring the way the snowflake fell against your eyelashes, you gently tear open the present from the side, revealing a large, black velvet box. with bated breath, you pry open the box to see a gorgeously crafted necklace depicting an onyx crow shielding a ruby heart with its wings.
you were so captivated by the necklace that you almost didn't catch the lingering scent, a familiar cologne you had memorized and kept in the back of your memories. the cold chill of the wintry day was gone now, replaced by an irrevocable warmth that surrounds you, warming you to your core.
"i'm sorry, i know that mere words cannot make up for all of the hurt i had put you through."
the stinging sensation of tears threatens to fall from your eyes, yet you remained completely and utterly still, allowing sylus to further strengthen his hold around you. "the woman you saw all those months ago was the daughter of a former client, a client i wished to get rid of. i wanted to keep you safe from her and her notorious family, that's why i ended things with you."
"you don't know how torn i was, realizing that i was the cause of your heartbreak. i've lost sleep, and struggled to maintain my health all while doing all that i could to protect you."
your heart becomes filled with empathy just then, feeling the way sylus shudders against you, hiding his face within the crook of your neck. you call out to him, turning your head ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of him. his features appeared paler now, his cheeks losing its once defined edge while taking on a more gaunt exterior. dark circles were seen beneath his eyes, serving as evidence of how little sleep he had gotten.
the gift falls from the palm of your hands, and you were filled once more with love and concern for him. your hands shake, gently framing at his face as sylus closes his eyes, nuzzling himself even closer to the palm of your hands. "you've lost weight."
he shakes his head, pressing a kiss against the palm of your hands. "it's nothing compared to the pain i've caused you."
tears well up within your eyes, making sylus frown as he gently kneels down before you, picking up the box that still contained his precious gift to you. "here, let me help you put this on."
standing back to his full height, he brushes back your hair, pressing a kiss against your exposed neck before unclasping the necklace. once he fastens the chain, he allows the onyx and ruby pendant to fall against your chest.
words no longer needed to be spoken the moment sylus takes you into his arms, placing a searing kiss against your lips with the hopes of conveying the heartache and regret that was felt mounting within him following the months after your departure.
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zayne had missed your three year anniversary together.
here you are, standing in the middle of your once shared dining room table, preparing him a celebratory meal that consisted of all of his favorite foods. disappointment was felt weighing your heart down, and despite all of your best efforts, zayne still hadn't come home from work.
it wasn't like you didn't try to give him hints about your plans. in fact, on the morning that marked your third anniversary, you gave zayne's office a call, setting a gentle reminder for him and the occasion.
you remembered how it sounded like he had visibly stiffened on the other end, clearing his throat while reassuring you that he'll be home tonight in order to celebrate with you. your heart, still filled with love for him as you viewed the world through a rose colored lens, believed every single word that came from his parted lips.
you refused to acknowledge how emotionless he sounded.
or how it felt like zayne viewed your reminder as a mere nuisance instead of being genuinely upset for forgetting about his third year anniversary with you.
no, instead, you foolishly cling to hope, still believing that he loved you despite it all.
so, you spent hours slaving away in the kitchen, cooking all of zayne's favorite foods to perfection (while making sure every recipe was void of carrots). by 7pm, you had the entire dining table set up with copious amounts of food, wishing to help strengthen him after such long shift at work.
you sit at your usual spot at the table, looking at your phone to see if zayne would call or text you, alerting you of his departure from the hospital. while waiting for him, your heart was filled with anticipation, waiting for the moment zayne's footsteps could be heard walking through the door.
7:45pm
8:30pm
9:56pm
10:14pm
as the hours ticked on, and there were still no signs of zayne walking through the door, you allowed your heart to sink to the bottom of your chest. your throat was felt closing in on you, making it harder for you to breathe as you put away all of the uneaten food into neat containers before placing them in the refrigerator.
once everything had been put away, you let out a frustrated sob, your back sliding against the cold surface of the fridge. the tears kept welling within your eyes, falling like wet droplets of rain that cascades down your face. your head was aching, and your heart was felt breaking within the confines of your chest as you struggled to think of what to do next.
sleep evaded you for the whole night, leaving your mind tired and broken as you finally decided to get off of the floor. your face had been stained and rendered damp with the saltiness of your tears, and you knew you had to make yourself at least a bit more presentable before facing zayne.
after a long shower, you put on a light sheen of makeup in hopes of hiding your swollen eyelids and chapped lips. knowing that deep down you still loved him, you made a stop to his favorite bakery and bought a box of assorted macaroons for him. the fresh scent and sweet of those cookies was enough to calm your nerves as you walked towards akso hospital with a bit of a bounce in your step.
in your head, you came up with countless excuses for him. he's the best cardiac surgeon linkon has ever known, of course he would forget here and there, but that doesn't mean he stopped loving you.
right?
right?
with the hospital building now looming over you, you purse your lips and try to calm your rapidly beating heart. due to the thousands of times you had navigated through the hospital, you reached zayne's office in just a few minutes, allowing yourself inside as you saw zayne laying back against his chair, still caught in a slumber.
zayne only awakens when he hears your approaching footsteps, eyes squinting in response to the intensity of the sun. clearing his throat, he adjusts his tie before sitting up properly on his desk. he places his reading glasses on, meeting your gaze while speaking in a hoarse tone.
"what are you doing here?"
unable to stop the tears that well up within your eyes, you place the box of macaroons on his desk. "i came here because i was worried about you... and... and i wanted to tell you that you forgot our anniversary dinner."
zayne's eyes go wide momentarily before letting out a deep sigh. he takes off his glasses, rubbing the stress from his temples before telling you with an almost brutal honesty, "i'm sorry, but my work takes precedence over your own happiness. there are countless lives that are relying on me to be saved, and i can't afford to ignore a single soul."
you felt as though you had been slapped in the face, your heart clenching along with the way your breathing hitches almost painfully in response.
"then... what are y-you trying to say?"
with an exasperated sigh of your name, zayne admits to you once more, "i would much rather bury myself into work than focus on your happiness."
for you, that was the moment you knew that it was all over between you and zayne. giving him a stiff nod, you swiftly turn away from him, allowing your tears to freely fall while choking back a sob. the love you felt for zayne began to well up deep within your chest, and now that you no longer had his love, you felt as though your whole world was ending.
{ ... }
you had no idea how you were able to move on with your life, acting like nothing was wrong for the past 3 months since zayne had broken it off with you.
since that day, you immediately moved out of zayne's home, haphazardly tossing your clothes and the rest of your belongings in a few suitcases. unable to bear the thought of even seeing him again, you blocked his number and moved in with a close friend of yours.
through your tears, you allowed your best friend to comfort you with copious cartons of ice cream and a manicure, allowing your friend to polish your nails while giving you her spare bedroom to sleep in.
as your friend spent the day working, you decided to treat yourself on your day off. not wishing to remain holed up in the apartment, you decided to explore linkon city and visit various shops you missed going to ever since your breakup with zayne.
for your first stop of the day, you decided to visit a quaint little bookstore located within the heart of the city. entering the building, you allow the fresh scent of books fill you, basking in the tranquil environment of it all.
not caring about what book you were going to purchase, you simply explore each of the aisles, choosing books that piqued your interest based solely on the title and cover alone. once you made your selection, the kind cashier up front rings out your books before holding out a hand to you, not accepting your form of payment when she slides a sleek black card within the card reader.
"i'm sorry for the inconvenience, miss, but i was given strict orders to not allow you to pay for your books."
her statement makes you tilt your head in response. "o-oh? but... who would do something so kind?"
the cashier shrugs while giving you a wink, placing your books in a neat pile within a bag. "hard to say, maybe someone just felt generous today, that's all."
despite her strange reasoning, you still thanked her for her time and generosity, watching as she slid the strange credit card beneath the cash register before leaving.
excited with your purchases, you were eager to read your novels the moment you returned home.
as you tucked away the memory of your paid books to the back of your mind, you figured that would be the end of such kindness-
only to be proven wrong throughout the day.
for starters, when you had gotten hungry and decided to eat some of your favorite pastries at a cafe, the same exact scenario occurred-
the cashier politely declines your payment, telling you that everything was paid for while giving you that same, mysterious smile.
choosing to ignore such strangeness, you went on with your day, exploring linkon while ignoring the lingering sensation of being watched. after spending several more hours within the city, you decided to treat yourself to a nice dinner at your favorite restaurant.
you went all out with your dinner as well, ordering a three course meal that consisted of all your favorite foods. the total price that came at the end of the meal would cost you a pretty penny-
yet when you attempt to pay for your meal, your waiter tells you that it had already been taken care of. by now, you were desperate to know who the culprit was, unable to comprehend why such a stranger would be so kind to you, of all people?
the waiter was the only one who relented to the identity of this person, giving you a thoughtful expression while shrugging, "i didn't get his name, but he was a tall man with dark hair dressed in a black trench coat."
and that was all the answer you needed to confirm your very suspicions.
clutching your bag of books close to your chest, you hurriedly run out of the restaurant, seeing the same tall man walking with his head down low, as if wishing to blend with the night itself. not wishing him to walk away from you, you call out to him,
"ZAYNE!"
the tall man stiffens, but stops walking when you cried out to him. taking advantage of the fact that he was standing still, you catch up with him, not stopping until he was a mere inches in front of you.
no words were spoken, and you watch as zayne turns around to face you. a gasp was felt coming from your parted lips, and you had to take a step back, finally realizing how much weight zayne had lost as the dark circles beneath his eyes catches you off guard.
an expression filled with regret meets your gaze, and you felt your heart aching with such empathy for him that you take a step forward, reaching out to him.
with wide eyes, zayne steps back, guilt filling his features as he shakes his head, "don't. i don't deserve to be close to you. the only thing i can do is make you happy from a distance."
you shake your head and take a step forward. "why?"
zayne frowns at your question, "what do you mean?"
"why do you believe that you can only make me happy from a distance?"
zayne could no longer meet your gaze then, choosing instead to bite down on his bottom lip. "i-i squandered your love when you offered it so freely to me. i chose to focus on my career instead of making you happy- w-when all you have ever done is do everything in your power to make me happy, even when i didn't deserve it."
you shake your head, dropping your bag of books so that you could fully embrace zayne with no barriers between you and him. you hear the way his breath hitches, but bask in his warmth the moment he returns your embrace.
"you're such an intelligent man, yet a-at the same time, you're the biggest dummy i know. you should have known that what i felt for you was and always has been unconditional. despite how hurt i was when you forgot our anniversary, i couldn't bring myself to truly hate you."
a shudder was felt going through zayne, and you relish in the sensation of his arms wrapping around you, bringing you even closer to his chest in a tighter embrace. "no more; no longer will i take your love for granted. this i promise you..."
he frames at your face, tilting your head upwards, allowing you to meet with his gaze once more before leaning forward. zayne seals his promise to you in a searing kiss, and the sensation of the way his lips perfectly slot against yours was enough to make you forget all about your prior heartaches...
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xavier had once again, allowed your calls to go straight to voicemail. the weeks leading up to you trying to get in touch with him, he had left every single one of your text messages on read, never once giving you an explanation about his behavior.
two months had passed when you finally saw xavier again.
after spending weeks visiting his apartment, only to receive no answer in return, you forced yourself to take the hint and stopped coming to his place, wallowing in your own miseries as you thought about what could have gone wrong between you and your boyfriend.
you had simply been running errands when you saw him walking around the streets of the city, hand buried deep within the pocket of his hoodie. your eyes go wide at the mere sight of him, with you making a mad dash across the city in order to reach him.
"xavier!"
you watch as the young hunter seems to stiffen in his tracks, not daring to even move a muscle when you caught up to him. he meets your curious gaze with cold eyes the shade of hardened sapphires. such a look was enough to stop you dead in your tracks, your heart pounding with anxious beats now at what was to come.
"h-hey, i was worried about you. w-where have you been?"
xavier ends up shaking his head, pinching at the bridge of his nose before fully facing you, "dammit... i knew i was forgetting something."
you frown upon hearing his words, "forgetting something? l-like what?"
he scoffs before meeting your gaze once more, "i was referring to breaking up with you."
your breathing comes out in labored, shallowed breaths just then. your whole world felt like it was spinning on its axis, changing the trajectory of your life as you took a step back. "w-what? please tell me you're joking!"
the hunter shakes his head, "i'm not joking at all, you've gotten so clingy lately, and it's putting a damper on my work as a hunter. your constant calls and texts have become a distraction that i can simply do without."
he meets your gaze, expression flashing momentarily with an unknown emotion before reverting back to his cold gaze. “if i knew how much of a chore it was going to be to keep up with this relationship all while trying to maintain my strength as a hunter, then i wouldn’t have even tried.”
an immense pain and anger was felt coursing through your veins just then, "are you fucking kidding me? the reason why i text and call you so often is because i'm worried about you! i worry because i still care, because i still lo-"
"don't." xavier hisses at you, cutting off your words with a look of disdain. you could feel your heart cease its beats, making your throat turn dry when you shakily ask him, "so, are you s-saying it's over?"
he scoffs, refusing to meet your gaze when he admits to you, "it's been over since the moment i agreed to take that two month long mission, just to get away from you and find a moment of peace.”
your breathing nearly stops right then and there. being fueled solely by your heartache and anger, you step closer to him and lift your hand, slapping his cheek as the sound of the palm of your hand meeting with his skin in a harsh manner echoes throughout the city. he remains silent, slowly facing you once more as the imprint of your hand was seen against his cheek.
xavier's pale cheek was now a harsh red hue due to the intensity of your slap. he shuts his eyes and calls out your name, but you immediately back away from him with tears streaming down your face. you leave your callous ex behind, willing yourself to move on from him when you finally walked away, refusing to look back.
{ ... }
a total of 6 months had passed since your messy breakup with xavier, and despite how angry you felt-
the stupid hole in your heart refused to let him go, your mind painting a collage of precious memories that you couldn't just simply forget. from xavier placing glowing stars against your room's ceilings, to the various moments of intimacy you shared while within the comfort of his arms-
your mind couldn’t help but go back to those precious days. despite everything, you did understand where xavier was coming from. each day, a new mission as a hunter was placed upon him, and because of how you lived your life as a normal civilian, you couldn’t understand what he was going through…
which left you nothing else to cling to but bitter memories of what could be. every single waking moment was spent going through each and every moment you shared with him, your heart forever yearning for him and how things could have been different.
forcing yourself to rid yourself of your tears, you walk into work the next day, not expecting anything different in particular when the sight of something stops you dead in your tracks. surrounding your tiny cubicle space were bouquets of various styles and colors, each and every one of them appearing just as extravagant as the last. you take another step into your office, eyes nearly filling with tears from the sheer amount of colors that surrounds you.
it takes you a moment to take in each precious bloom, your throat turning dry as you allowed the sweet scent of the petals to fill your senses. feeling overwhelmed, you turn around, only to stop when a familiar blond young man appears before you.
xavier's eyes no longer appear callous and cold, now filled with a lingering regret as he held a bouquet of red roses within his hand. he says your name, the syllables breaking slightly due to the slight tremor heard in his voice.
"i-i'm sorry, i've been such a jackass to you that i didn't realize what i had before i lost it. i-it's all my fault, for never appreciating the love and care you had for me. i kept viewing your love as a hindrance… a nuisance when it was so undeserved. and for that, truly- i’m sorry.”
you shake your head, muttering "dumbass" beneath your breath before walking towards him, framing his stupidly handsome face between your hands before crushing your lips against his in a searing kiss. xavier ends up dropping the bouquet of roses, allowing it to fall carelessly to the ground as his shaky hands cupped at your cheek, returning your kiss with just as much fervor...
finding comfort that despite it all, you still loved him enough to forgive him.
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when your calls kept going to voicemail, and your messages remained unread by rafayel, you decided that it was time to visit him at his place. within the depths of your heart, you had no concerns about your relationship with the talented artist.
in fact, you were so proud of your boyfriend and how far he has come, with his first exhibition approaching within the next year. you knew that he was probably engrossed with making new pieces to showcase his art, but you wanted to make sure that he was properly taking care of himself, too.
with a bag of his favorite takeout in hand, you extract the spare key to his apartment from the confines of your purse and enter his home. what you weren't expecting was to see the awful state his apartment was rendered to.
surrounding you were torn pieces of canvas and broken marble, with splatters of paint seen across each half-finished piece of art. placing the bag of takeout on the kitchen counter, you quickly dash towards rafayel's room, only to feel your heart sink at the sight of him.
dressed in his signature white shirt and dress pants, he remains slumped over on the ground, gripping at his wavy strands of hair as sobbed wracked through his body. you immediately rush over to him, calling out his name before placing him within the comfort of your arms.
you feel his entire body stiffen while in your embrace, removing his face away from his hands while looking back at you. a strange, almost alien look of annoyance graces his features, making you do a double take when he physically removes your arms off of him.
"rafe?" you tentatively call out his name, making the artist angrily wipe away his tears before meeting your gaze.
"what are you doing here? i thought i told you i would be busy setting up for my first exhibit."
you shake your head, "n-no, i completely understand, it's just- i was just worried about you. i wanted to give you a break, a-and even bought your favorite takeout!"
rafayel scoffs in response to your admission, "you shouldn't have done that. you've not only wasted your time, but mine as well."
you felt the way your heart clenches painfully in response to his words, the coldness of it all making you take a step back. but rafayel wasn't finished, oh no, far from it.
he stalks closer to you, the entirety of his body seeming to stiffen even further as he balls both of his fists closer to his sides. "my artistic muse is suffering because of you and how you're always demanding my time. i've got an exhibition coming up within the next 8 months, and i don't want you to ruin it."
tears were streaming down your face, and you tried to hold on to hope that your beloved rafayel didn't mean it. that he was just stressed and simply wanted everything to go well that he was overworking himself.
yet all of your hopes were dashed the moment his once brilliant eyes began to shine with annoyance for you.
"it's over."
a broken sob manages to escape from your parted lips, with you turning away from him all while blindly searching for the door. the sheer amount of tears did little to ease the utter heartbreak you felt, allowing the shattered pieces of your heart to fall as you struggled to even breathe.
once you were out of his home, you take quick strides back home, somehow knowing that your life would never be the same without rafayel in it.
{ ... }
8 months had passed since your breakup with rafayel, and you honestly forgot all about his upcoming exhibit.
despite how you were certain that you could no longer feel a speck of happiness within your heart, you still tried to do things to get out of your house and enjoy your day.
wishing to explore the city, you bought a cone of your favorite ice cream, proceeding to eat it as you walked around linkon when you felt several eyes looking at you. you frown and look back, only for the person to quickly look away, whispering something to their friend.
you found this behavior to be strange, but shrugged it off all while continuing to enjoy your ice cream.
even when you tried to ignore the lingering gazes, it still felt extremely odd to you, making you lose your appetite as you threw away what was left of your ice cream cone.
"excuse me, miss?" you stop walking, coming face to face with an older woman with a kind face. she brushes back her strands of silvery hair before asking you, "may i take a closer look at you?"
your eyebrows come together in a frown, yet you relent and give her a nod all the same. she thanks you, coming closer to gently frame at your face with her frail, two hands. after her gentle inspection of you, she lets go of you and smiles, "you truly are beautiful, i can see why that young artist chose you as his muse."
you could feel the way your heart began to beat faster against your chest, making you swallow thickly as you shakily ask her, "w-what is this artist's name?"
"oh, he's a beautiful young man by the name of rafayel!" the lady's eyes twinkle with amusement, not taking offense to your actions even when you turned away from her.
not able to focus on anything else but him, you allow your feet to take you to the address of his first exhibition, leading you to a gorgeous glass building where you could see the various art he had on display. as you entered the building, the guests seemed to sense your presence and knew exactly who you were due to how each piece of art had your likeness.
mesmerized at the sheer amount of talent rafayel displayed, you felt as though you were looking at yourself through a golden lens. despite how imperfect and ugly you felt some days, rafayel manages to capture your essence while accentuating it all, making you appear so beautiful as those tiny imperfections simply served to add character to your features.
from the way your eyes crinkled each time you laughed-
to the subtle droplet of tears with your lips formed into a pout each time you cried-
each moment was captured so perfectly (so lovingly) within each canvas that you found it harder to breathe. as you take in the artworks that surround you, you heard a familiar voice calling out to you.
"you had always been my muse, yet i was too stupid and selfish to realize it."
you gasp, turning around to see rafayel carrying a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand. a melancholic expression was seen within his gaze when he comes closer to you, falling to his knees while offering the bouquet to you.
feeling the tears welling up within your eyes, you shakily accept the bouquet and gently hold it to your chest, watching as rafayel remains kneeling before you. "i'm a selfish and childish brat who takes out his frustrations on those he loves... and i'm so sorry for lashing out at you that day when you wanted nothing more than to take care of me."
"i know i don't deserve it, b-but i love you, and i can't live without you. i-if you could just give me another chance, then-!"
but rafayel was cut off the moment you fall to your knees with him, setting aside bouquet as you leaned closer to him, swallowing rafayel's tears with a kiss, you felt the way he lets out a gasp, remaining frozen for a brief second before responding mere moments later.
with his large hand felt cupping at the side of your face, rafayel returns your kiss, not daring to let you go now that he had you back within his arms-
back to where you have always belonged.
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end notes: writing this while listening to joji has been so fitting 🥹 currently unedited, but changes will be made once this is posted.
editing notes: just to clarify, all of my reader characters for my lads stories are supposed to be genuine self inserts for the reader themselves. i know that if it was the mc, such a scenario like this could never happen, due to everyone’s lore. but i don’t like using mc as a cover for my readers, since none of us could ever achieve such pristine beauty and perfection. i’m sorry if this story ends up being incredibly ooc, but the reader characters i try to write for are flawed and very human. thanks for coming to my ted talk, and for reading and giving my stories a chance 🥹
all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!
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luveline · 1 day
Note
Can you write where the reader walks into James room and he's crying and its the first time shes seen him cry so she comforts him pls xx
thank you for your request! fem, 1.2k
James’ house is a sanctuary to everyone he’s ever met. There are scratches on the wall by the door where Sirius has thrown it open, long deep welts of ruin under a drunken hand, two best friends laughing to the bedroom where they share a bed. You’re used to Sirius by now, an extension of James you love and make room for, but waking up to the heir of the most noble family in London sleeping off a hangover with his face buried in your boyfriend's shoulder still surprises you. His snores never change. 
Then there’s Remus, the sweetheart, tracking dirt into the living room because he so often forgets he’s wearing shoes, distracted by a book or a thought he shares in half smiles knowing James will listen. 
You’re everywhere. In photos like the rest of them, in your coat on the hook, your clean washing on the stairs, your shoes in the bedroom cupboard. There’s a red smudge of your lipstick on the wall at the top of the stairs where James wiped your bottom lip and then used the wall to hang over you, kissing. He keeps meaning to paint over it, you know. He says the same thing every time you bring it up, a laughing, “I’ll get to it, you thing!” 
You’re used to smiles and sounds here. You aren’t acquainted with this. Sniffles from the bedroom, long, stringing gulps of air and the answering sob. It makes your chest flip. James hasn’t cried in front of you in a year of dating and two years of knowing him. James doesn’t even get pissed off unless it’s for somebody else. Something awful must’ve happened. You rush to find out what. 
In the bedroom, James is just sitting there falling apart. Just, sat on the bed, his head in his hands and his shoulders shaking like an awful jagged up and down, like he’s hurting; the shock of it is in every inch of movement. James is beautiful in everything, skin and hands and dark, dark hair, but he’s hurting now as he drags fingers wet with tears through frizzing curls. He must have heard you coming up but he can’t stop, lifting his chin, an apology twisted in his mouth that he doesn’t say aloud. 
“Lovely, what happened?” you ask, sure you’re gonna fall through the floor. “What happened? What–”
You aren’t giving him time to answer. You need to know. 
“No, it’s alright–”
“It’s not alright,” you say, standing in front of him with stiff arms. “What happened, James?” 
“It’s okay.” He cries a little, sniffs, looking up at you with swimming eyes. “It’s alright, I’m just– it’s just– well, it’s just everything, I suppose, but it’s…” He looks down, his mouth twisting again in an apology you don’t want to take. He shakes himself. 
“James, what’s everything?” 
“Silly stuff.” James takes your hand. Telling, that a boy who’s spent his entire life looking after the people he loves would attempt to comfort you with tears still hot on his cheeks. 
You look down at his long fingers. 
James plays piano. He learned your favourite song for you before he’d ever asked you out, and when he’d played it for you, he’d played so beautifully you felt sick for days, felt sick every time you thought of him, but in the moment he’d laughed at your teary eyes and pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head. Lovely girl, he’d said, laughing, I won’t play it again if you’re gonna cry like that.
You figure he must want comfort as he gives it, wrapping your arms around him to steer him toward a soft kiss, his hair like strands of satin under your lips. “Nothing that upsets you like this could ever be silly.” 
He pushes you away. Not without love, but pushing away regardless. He stands in the space you leave and wipes his cheeks with the backs of his hands. It’s nearly like he’s dancing. Just the way his arms move. But then he drops them and turns away from you, your heart plummeting to your stomach. 
“James.” 
“It’s not like that. I was hoping I’d be done before you got home. Should we go out for dinner or something?” 
“James–”
“What?” he asks, smiling, at odds with his sad eyes. “Love, it’s really fine, I’m fine.” Love. You let out a long breath, chest a cold ache slowly warmed by his gaze. There’s care for you in every eyelash, but it still shocks you when he hugs you. “It’s okay. Sorry I scared you.” 
James. “Fucking hell, Jamie, I’m not scared, I want you to tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it for you.”
He chokes on breath. “I’m fine,” he says. He doesn’t believe it himself, a crack running straight through his words. “Sorry,” he says, sickly, kissing the top of your head as you’d kissed his. 
Clearly he’s not going to let you be the one domineering the situation, but that’s okay. He can kiss your head and hold you on the edge of too tight. You slip a hand under the edge of his T-shirt to stroke his back, until your hand is numb to it, and he’s sagging against you heavily. 
“You’re really not fine, I can see that much.” 
He’s quiet, but you can tell there’s something he wants to say. 
“But that’s okay,” you say, hand clasping his back . You pat a steady rhythm there as he sighs. “It really is. I don’t know why you think you have to be finished crying before I get home, but that’s not true. You can cry. You can cry buckets. Please don’t pretend you’re not upset because of me, I’d feel so bad.”
Something hot and wet touches your forehead. “M’sorry.” 
“Nothing to be sorry for.” You pull back to pat his cheek. 
James stares at you. Tears well in usually warm eyes and get caught in the wet hedge of his lashes. You try to wipe them away before they can fall —you don’t wanna see your sweetheart crying. 
“Don’t frown,” he says softly. 
“I’m trying not to. Here, let me,” —you wipe his cheeks with your sleeve, voice a muttering thing as his skin pinks beneath your touch— “just get that there for you. Your eyes are red, Jamie, I hope you haven’t been upset for too long.” 
“No, uh. No, not too long.” 
“Can you please tell me what’s wrong? I’d like to know.” 
James’ face presses to your neck in seconds. He pauses, and then he sobs. That’s more like it. You stand there in the bedroom until your legs are stiff, and then you only move to lay him down in bed to be your little spoon. “It's not fine,” you say, your arm around him, the other playing in the swirl of his parting, “but it will be. You’re really too handsome for all these tears.”
“You think I’m handsome?”
He sounds sweet when he’s trying to make you laugh. You reach over him to kiss his hot cheek.  
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p4ranormaluv · 1 day
Text
HER
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you wouldn’t have guessed you’d end up getting eaten out by your boyfriend in the basement of a house party, but jake just looks too sexy when he’s high— you can’t resist.
pairings) jake x f!reader
genre) smut
contents) established relationship, house party, jake’s horny af from the start, drug/alcohol use, shotgunning [weed], petnames: angel/baby, making out, a little exhibitionism, light d/s dynamics: m.dom/f.sub, dry humping, face sitting, fingering, praise, [ft. other enha members]
wc) 2.3k
note) hope this gives chase atlantic vibes.
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you hop into jake’s car and shut the door behind you in one fluid motion, looking over to your boyfriend as he smirks at you, taking you in with one hand on the steering wheel, the other moving to squeeze your thigh like he always does.
“hey, angel. you look sexy.” he smiles with heavy set eyes. his gaze tries to stay at your face, but they keep flicking back down to your body in the tight, black party dress you’re wearing, barely covering your hips.
jake leans over to press a kiss to your lips that he quickly slips his tongue into, and when your insides start fluttering and jake starts huffing between kisses— you know you need to push him away, or you won’t end up going to the party he’s meant to be driving you to at all.
“down boy.” you giggle after pushing him by his chest, him still staring at your lips and how they move as you speak.
“jake!”
“s— sorry! sorry, baby.” he refocuses, head shaking for a moment as he seems to come back to reality. “you ready to go?”
“yes, jakey.” you say with a faux exhausted tone, fond smile giving your true emotions away.
“i know you love it” jake teases, lifting a cocky brow almost to himself as he takes the car out of park and begins to drive forward.
and yeah, you do love it.
but his ego doesn’t need to hear you say that out loud.
(❤︎)
the large house is packed with people like a can of sardines, the heat of bodies and the smell of alcohol strong as the music reverberates through the floor. the lighting is mostly dark other than a few flashing lights.
jake holds your hand or is glued to your ass practically the entire time you’re there, not wanting to lose you and feeling over protective— as he always does at these parties. he trusts you, he just doesn’t want some douche harassing you or not knowing where you are in such a big crowd like this. he’d worry you’d get hurt.
you’re both currently in the kitchen talking to jay and heeseung, you nursing a red solo cup that jake takes sips from occasionally as well.
jake’s leaning back on the counter with a hand on your waist, keeping you against him. he gently grabs your wrist, bringing the cup towards his mouth.
you look over your shoulder at him, meeting him halfway and tilting the cup down for him to drink. he squeezes your waist to signal he’s done, smiling at you sweetly in thanks and giving you a kiss.
there’s a lull in the conversation when jay asks heeseung if he knows where ‘the good stuff’ is— and you’re assuming he’s asking for harder liquor (knowing jay) when heeseung leads him out of the kitchen.
you’re apparently the only one paying attention to this ordeal as jake’s suddenly groping your ass through your dress, pressing his groin into you and making sure you feel his hard on.
“jake…” you say in warning, but he recognizes the arousal in your tone, which sounds weak in its resolve.
“babyyy~, im so hard for you.” he whines sexily, voice husky as he starts pressing kisses to your neck, grinding his hips into you. “can we please find a bedroom?”
“can we participate in the party for at least a little bit longer?” you giggle, definitely not opposed to the idea, but you want to mingle more.
jake groans dramatically, separating his lips from the small nibbles he was giving your exposed shoulder to press his face into the crook of your neck. “you’re so mean to me, wearing this sexy ass dress with such easy access and not even letting me fuck you in it.”
“i will. just not right now.” you promise with a teasing smile, biting your lip as you look at him over your shoulder again. jake thinks you look way too sexy at this angle.
“god, you’re killing me.”
(❤︎)
turns out ‘the good stuff’ is weed. jay and heeseung come back a few minutes later to lead you and jake to the basement of the house, opening a random door that descends down into stairs.
heeseung flicks the lights on and led strips light up along the ceiling, casting the room in slowly changing colors.
“are we supposed to be down here?” jake asks, looking around as you walk to the couch together hand in hand.
“i don’t think jungwon minds. i locked the door so the whole party doesn’t follow us down here.” heeseung answers, letting you two take the couch as he and jay sit on nearby chairs, a coffee table connecting you all in the center.
the boys don’t take long to start things up, the room filling with the faint smell of weed as jake takes a few hits. you don’t really feel like it, other than breathing in the second hand smoke. but when jake takes another puff, passing the blunt over to jay and then leaning over to cup your jaw, looking at you with eyes that ask for permission, you lean closer.
parting your lips, you suck in the gray smoke jake slowly exhales out, pretty nose brushing against yours as he looks down at your lips. once you’ve taken the hit, jake practically crashes his lips into yours. you finally start to give in to that feeling in your stomach— far from immune to jake’s charms and flirting he’s been directing to you all night.
jake bites softly on your bottom lip, smiling at your almost silent gasp from the action and how you press your lips back on him, eager for more as you get lost in his kiss.
its when you start sucking on jake’s tongue that’s inside your mouth and he lets out a groan that jay and heeseung finally say something, awkwardly standing up from their chairs at the same time.
“um, maybe we should— uh,” jay struggles, trying and failing to think of an excuse to leave.
“beer.” heeseung says stiffly, already frantically jogging up the stairs as jay rushes to follow him.
“we’ll get more beer.”
you press a hand to your face, giggling in thorough embarrassment at how you lost yourself so easily to jake’s lips that you forgot about your two friends being in the room.
“oh my god, we’re that couple.” you cringe.
“it’s fine, they’ll get over it.” jake chuckles, grabbing your hand to remove it from your face.
when you look at jake again you see how his eyes are slightly red and heavy lidded, fluffy hair tousled and lips red from making out, looking as plush as ever.
you’re not sure if jake doesn’t notice or ignores how you stare at him while biting your lip, finding him incredibly hot and irresistible right now as he reaches over to grab the abandoned blunt that sits on the coffee table.
“wanna do one more with me?”
“kay.” you reply softly, finding your voice compromised, either by the smoke or your arousal and distraction from the sexy man in front of you— who you’re lucky enough to call your boyfriend.
this time when jake takes a drag, you surprise him when you abruptly move to sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. he recovers quickly as he puts his hands on either sides of your waist possessively, pulling you closer while you breath in his smoke.
you whine before crashing your lips to his, trying to lick into his mouth as jake irritatingly keeps them pressed closed.
“what happened to ‘participating’ in the party?” he giggles, trying to dodge your incessant attempted kisses.
“what happened to your hard on?” you mock, moving your hand between you to grope his bulge. jake fails to suppress a moan as his eyes squeeze shut. “oh wait, it’s still here.”
“stop— stop bullying me.” jake pouts after recovering, trying to give you his signature puppy eyes. it doesn’t have the same vibes when his eyes are glassy and blushed from being stoned, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have an effect on you.
you smirk at his indirect apology as jake leans back into your lips again, continuing your make out session. your little black dress is forced to ride up in this position, jake letting out a soft moan as his hands that were feeling up your thighs brush over the exposed lace waistband of your panties. you grind down, getting wetter and wetter as you and jake lazily hump on each other while your tongues explore the other’s mouth.
you let out the sweetest sound that has jake’s hips bucking, pressing your tits into his chest as you wrap your arms tighter around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. jake separates one of his hands that was previously fondling your ass beneath your dress to take a handful of your covered breast that’s beginning to spill out of the top, kneeding it in his veiny hand.
“baby…wanna kiss you.” he whispers against you.
“you already are, jake. are you that high?” you say impatiently, not wanting to separate from his lips to speak.
“not these lips,” jake says lowly, kissing your mouth for emphasis before his hand slowly trails down from your breast to between your legs, fingers gently feeling over your covered pussy. “these ones.”
oh.
it’s like a switch has flipped, hands grabbing anywhere at jake as desperate begs of “yes”, “now?” and “please” come from your mouth.
jake hurries to lower himself and lay down against the couch, hands never leaving your waist until he tells you to take your panties off. he groans as he watches you stand and slide them down your sexy legs, snatching them from your hands the second they’re off and shoving them into his back pocket.
“sit on my face, angel.” jake coos as you’re quick to obey, straddling his head.
jake sighs at the beautiful sight of your bare pussy hovering over him, glistening in arousal. he slides his hands up your thighs to push up your dress, then he’s guiding you to lower down.
you feel your core meeting jake’s lips, whimpering as jake parts them to give you a fleeting lick.
“jakey, please don’t tease me.” you whine.
“naughty girl,” his hot breath fans against you. “you do realize the door is unlocked, right, baby?”
your stomach flips as your struck with realization. the basement door locks from the inside. when jay and heeseung left, they couldn’t lock it behind them, leaving the possibility of anyone to come in and see you sitting on jake’s face in the middle of the room.
it’s at this moment that jake takes a tighter grip on your hips and pulls you down roughly to force all your weight onto his face, eating you out passionately. you gasp, hands moving to grip the arm rest of the couch that’s right above jake’s head.
your slight buzz has you feeling more sensitive. every time jake sucks your clit between his puffy lips and warm mouth, your thighs clench around his head— causing jake to moan loudly and go that much harder on you.
“baby— baby! fuck!” you cry, starting to roll your hips against his face.
jake feels like he’s about to lose his mind. you’re so fucking sexy and your grinding your pussy against his face. something about your juices taste even sweeter tonight, and he finds himself unable to get enough.
he keeps his mouth on your pussy, one of his long, thick fingers starting to slowly push inside your entrance.
you whine out, rolling your hips more firmly and gasping as jake’s pretty nose bumps against your clit perfectly.
it doesn’t take long for jake to press a second finger inside your needy pussy, your noises becoming more frequent as he can tell your getting close.
“my dirty little angel. you like riding my face, baby? where anyone could walk in and see?”
you can only hum out an agreeing sound, nodding your head as your eyes squeeze shut while jake starts pumping his fingers in and out. wet noises resound in the room, jake looking up at your pretty expression and how the led’s cast a pretty red glow across your skin, fading to purple a moment later.
“you like that don’t you? pussy’s so wet.”
jake can only marvel at you for a little more before he’s nestling back inbetween your legs again.
he switches between flattening his tongue against you and stiffening it to part your pussy and circle around your clit. that combined with his fingers that are so much bigger than yours, curving just right and finding that little spot inside you that has your thighs quivering— you’re deduced to nothing but high pitched whimpers and a melted brain— needing to cum.
“close, baby? need it?”
“please,” you find yourself barely able to get out, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth, brain foggy and overwhelmed with the heightened pleasure. “please let me cum.”
“go ahead, angel girl. get it all over my face.”
the band in your tummy snaps as you finally let go, your hands frantically moving to find purchase in jake’s hair as you pull on his locks, pushing his face deeper into your pussy.
jake loves it, moaning into your cunt as he drinks you up and lets your trembling hips smear it all over his face.
your orgasm lasts a while until you finally finish and move down off his face shakily to straddle his stomach instead, chest heaving as you catch your breath.
when you finally look up it’s like jake was waiting for you to, eyes still heavy lidded as he takes his dripping fingers and sucks them into his mouth, cleaning up all your juices from them while his chin and lips still glisten with the rest of your essence.
“my turn?”
jake smirks as he’s sitting up and pulling his pants down— and you don’t need any convincing as you lay down on your back and spread your legs for him.
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note) this was supposed to be a quickie to tie yall over while i’m working on my october works but it ended up longer than intended.
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As an eepy, helpless romantic.. how about a gender neutral reader who secretly loves to sing but rarely does it when they think someone is there. Now imagine their s/o waking to the reader singing to them, so soft yet filled with love and devotion.
For Leona, Jamil, Silver, Malleus, and Jack, please!
Jack Howl:
When you began to sing Jack feared his ear twitch might have alerted you to the fact he was actually awake but it seemed you were too absorbed in your song to notice. He wished you did this more, not wanting to put pressure on you to perform but… When you were good at something, shouldn’t you show it off a bit more? He didn’t mean for you to turn it into a job. Even if he was your audience he thinks it would be nice, wondering if there was a way for him to bring the topic up without embarrassing you.
Jamil Viper:
Jamil had to admit he didn’t know you had it in you. There was a natural melodic quality to your voice, in his opinion, but it didn’t mean he knew you had this hidden talent. While the sound is quite relaxing it’s the lyrics that leave him feeling unsettled. A confession in metaphors but a confession nonetheless, admiring him and his beauty, relating to the peaceful moment you were having now. He struggled to relate the song to himself but your lyrics were undeniably about him, for him, even if you didn’t realize he was listening.
Leona Kingscholar:
Leona didn’t interrupt, never letting you know he had woken up while you were singing. There had been a handful of times where he’d heard the pleasant sound of your voice drifting down the halls but you always stopped the moment you knew he was nearby; he suspected he only heard you at all because his hearing was sharper than the average person. He thought it was a pleasant way to fall asleep, yet he couldn’t ignore the love behind your words, the way your fingers stroked through his hair carefully to not wake him. It’s hard to drift off to sleep after these revelations, as for once reality felt better than his dreams.
Malleus Draconia:
Malleus feels as if you’re putting a spell on him, leaving him frozen in time but rather than feeling uncomfortable, it was like you had wrapped a warm blanket around him. He can’t recall ever hearing you sing before, wondering how often you did it. Did you do it while doing chores, or practicing magic? Were you a natural since you were young or had it required practice? He has so many questions to ask yet he felt too weary to do so, just wanting to keep his eyes closed to enjoy your song a few moments longer.
Silver:
Your song is so calming Silver felt he might fall into an eternal slumber, forever surrounded by your voice in an endless dream. His eyelids felt heavy as your words floated through him, taking time to truly listen to what you were singing about. Had he done anything to deserve your devotion? To have you see him in such a shining light that it was as if he could do no wrong? Silver can’t stop himself from opening his eyes, glancing over at your flustered face when you apologized for waking him. He shook his head with a soft smile, asking if you could sing it again for him.
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tender-rosiey · 2 days
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maybe jelly — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: gojo getting jealous? 👁️👁️
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you arrive at jujutsu high, as you prepare for your guest lecture. you’ve given these talks before, but this time, something feels a little different—satoru is acting strange.
not that he’s ever normal, but today he seems extra…dramatic.
“you’re going to kill it, babe,” satoru says, draping his arm over your shoulders as you walk toward the classroom. his blindfold hides his eyes, but you can feel the intensity of his gaze, more focused than usual.
“you okay?” you ask, glancing at him with a teasing grin. “you seem a little... off.”
“me? off? never,” he replies, lips pulling into his trademark smirk. “just making sure no one gets too cozy with my brilliant wife. gotta make sure these kids remember you’re taken.”
you roll your eyes playfully, “I think everybody and their mother know that, satoru.”
time passes by, and now, you stand at the front of the lecture hall at jujutsu high, wrapping up your talk.
the students seem genuinely engaged, and one in particular, a young sorcerer named ren, is practically bouncing with enthusiasm, asking follow-up questions.
“and how did you manage to seal that curse without any physical confrontation?” ren asks, his voice brimming with admiration and curiosity.
before you could respond, satoru appears at your side with his usual confidence, his presence instantly commanding attention, “well, she is the wife of the gojo satoru. kinda comes with the territory,” he interjects, flashing his signature grin.
you shoot him an exasperated look, “I’m pretty sure my skills had something to do with it.”
satoru leans in close, nuzzling against your cheek affectionately before pulling back slightly. “oh, of course, sweetheart. you’re amazing, but it doesn’t hurt to be married to the strongest sorcerer around, right?”
ren blinks, clearly caught off guard by the interaction.
he glances between you and satoru, his expression a mix of confusion and awe. “I wasn’t aware you were married,” he mutters, his gaze flickering between you and satoru as if trying to process this new information.
you smile and give satoru a jab into his ribs that he takes like a champ, “yeah, he likes to remind people. it’s kind of his thing.”
satoru, never one to miss an opportunity to make a grand statement, leans down and places a soft kiss on the top of your head.
his arm slips casually around your waist, “just keeping things clear. y'know, in case anyone forgets that I get the honor of calling you mine.”
ren tries to steer the conversation back to his question, “so, about the sealing technique…”
satoru cuts him off again, stepping slightly in front of you with a playful yet firm stance.
“hey, hey, let’s not bombard her with too many questions now. she’s been on her feet alllll day, talking about all the cool stuff she’s done and showing everybody just how badass she is.”
you roll your eyes but can’t suppress a small smile. stepping around him to face ren again, you continue, “ignore him. the technique I used requires focusing on—”
satoru clears his throat dramatically, pulling you back to his side and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, eyes boring into the poor boy even through his blindfold.
“you know what I think? I think my lovely wife deserves a break. maybe some alone time with her handsome, strong, and incredibly talented husband?”
you raise an eyebrow at him, your tone teasing. “handsome and humble, I see.”
satoru’s grin widens, and he leans down to whisper in your ear, “I can be both when it comes to you.”
you are about to retort back, but then you remember that ren is still here.
you turn to the boy with a smile and assure him, “anyway, ren, if you want to chat more about techniques, we can catch up later. after my husband gets over himself,” you hiss at the man who raises his hands in surrender.
ren, now visibly flustered and unsure, mumbled, “uh, I’ll… catch up with you later then. thanks for the talk!”
ren dashes out the room, slamming the door behind him. you tap your feet against the ground for a few minutes, before you elbow satoru again.
he stays standing up, chest puffed out and a big grin plastered on his face. you deadpan as you stare at your husband, “you really couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
satoru shrugs nonchalantly, still holding you close. he hums, giving you a kiss on the forehead, “what can I say? I don’t like sharing. besides, you are the wife of the strongest sorcerer; it’s important to make sure that’s clear.”
you roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile helplessly at your husband. your fingers find their way through his hair making him instantly melt. you giggle at your puddle of a husband, “you’re so lucky I love you.”
he tilts his head slightly, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I love you more, soooooooooooo—”
“oh my god, I get it,” you laugh as you try to push him off. he resists with a whine as he nuzzles his face into your shoulder. you yield and let the silence fill the room.
he hums softly as you both sway mindlessly.
“but y’know,” you pull back slightly, smiling up at him, “you really do like to make an impression.”
he chuckles, his eyes twinkling with a mix of pride and mischief, “just doing my part to ensure everyone knows how lucky I am and how lucky they should feel to be in the presence of my extraordinary wife.”
he intertwines your left hands together and raises them slightly, showing off the rings. the sun makes them shine quite brightly, and it makes you sigh with a smile and satoru let out a huff of laughter.
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absfawn · 2 days
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abby loves light taps. or even light slaps. there’s something about seeing you on your knees, between her wide legs, with your lips wrapped around her strap, strings of spit running down your chin, cheeks hallowed, and her brain always feels fuzzy when her fingers graze your face, only to send a light tap to the side of your cheek, encouraging you to go faster. for a few seconds her blue eyes widen when you’re gagging, worried she’s overstepped, done something you weren’t keen on doing, but when you whimper around her cock, she smirks before tutting and doing it again. “dirty slut, use that pretty mouth of yours and maybe i’ll slap you more, hm?”
or when she’s got you underneath her in her bed, limbs feeling like jelly, hands gripping any inch of her you can grab onto, while one of hers holds your hip,  grip that is sure to leave bruises tomorrow, the other holds your leg over her shoulder and she’s grinding her hips into yours at such a brutal yet delicious pace that has your back arching and toes curling. the sounds tumble from your mouth shamelessly. you’re on cloud nine, abby is too, and she can’t stop the shit eating grin that appears on her face when you’re tapping at the hand she’s got on your hip. “what, baby?” abby rasped out, voice strained and rough.
“need it.” was all you could whine.
“need me to give you a slap, huh? s’that what you want, pretty girl?” she taunted, looking down at you with that devious smirk on her lips. you didn’t offer her a response, just nodded deliriously beneath her, closing your eyes and gasping at each of her thrusts, not caring how loud you were being. “s’not how you ask. ask me.”
your eyes fluttered open at her words, and you whined softly under your breath. nails sinking into the skin on her arm, ignoring the small hiss she lets out. you were too in your own world, the pleasure your girlfriend was giving you had you falling deeper and deeper. “please,” you choked out, “want it.”
realizing you weren’t even focused on her words, abby removed her hand from your hip, ignoring the grunted whine slipping past your lips once she did so, she leaned down more and over you. her eyes trailing over your perky pebbled nipples before reaching up and gripping your chin between her fingers, prodding your lips with her thumb gently, but tutting when you go to wrap your lips around it. “s’not what you want this time, you can have them in your mouth next time.” abby promised, and she growls at the elicit whimper that rips through your throat when her hand slaps lightly at your cheek. wishing she could feel the way your cunt clenches around her cock. “you’re so dirty, hm?” she scoffs, rubbing the skin with her fingers to soothe the sting. “just a dirty little slut.”
“more.”
your eyes were wide as you looked up at her with a lazy smile on your lips, you had caught her off guard for a couple of seconds, not knowing just how much you enjoyed it when she gave you slaps or even the light taps on your cheek. she doesn’t even to do it sexually, but sometimes she gives your cheek a soft pat after she gives you a kiss before she leaves, and doesn’t notice your soft eyes, or feel the way your skin heats up at the action. 
the second slap she gives your cheek is a little harder, but the blood rushes to your head, your skull feels fuzzy, and a choked-out moan falls between your swollen lips. abby simply can’t help but laugh at your rection before pressing a gentle kiss to the skin of your cheek, soothing it as carefully as she could. “you truly are so fucking dirty, my dirty girl. gonna let me do it a few more times before i let you cum?”
how could you say no to that?
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skeltnwrites · 2 days
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The Shape of Family ‧₊˚❀༉
As a single dad, Steve’s world revolves around school drop-offs, bedtime rituals, and tee-ball practices—and he's struggling to keep up. But you're always there, happily lending a hand when he needs it most. / masterlist
part one - you find out your work crush is a dad and offer to watch his mischievous little girl so he can get some work done 5.2k
a/n - penelope is a little shit and i love her dearly, general warnings/tags here
── .✦
“Hey, sorry to bother you, Steve. I just had a quick question– but before I forget, there’s this little girl in the lobby knocking stuff over. Do you know if her parents are here?” 
“Fuck– sorry. One sec.” 
He brushes past you with an urgency that is typical of Steve. As the community outreach coordinator, he’s naturally a busy man. You haven’t known him long– just the couple of months since you became a volunteer for the local rec center– but it’s clear he’s dedicated to his work. Always zipping from one end of the building to the other, juggling class setups, organizing meetings, or hunting down the next thing that needs fixing. He tends to add more to his plate than he can carry, at least according to another staff member, which is why you’ve been assigned to help him. 
You strain to match his long strides and nearly take out a trash can when he turns a corner unexpectedly. But you can’t lose him now– someone is always nearby to steal him for paperwork or performance reviews and all you have is a quick question. 
The lobby unfortunately looks like a tornado blew through the front doors. Cabinets are thrown open, papers are scattered like leaves across the floor, and a chair has been toppled over. And said tornado has her cheek pressed to the vending machine glass, an arm twisted inside the dispenser box to reach for a loose pack of Skittles. The scene is almost amusing until you remember you’ll likely be the one to clean it up. 
“Penelope!” Steve scolds, not loud but stern enough to surprise you. He’s consistently an embodiment of gentleness– always accommodating and rarely assertive. And while he’s still gentle with her, his tone carries a weight and firmness that’s a stark departure from his usual demeanor. 
The girl, Penelope, retracts her arm and spins around to face Steve. And if it wasn’t for the shit-eating grin pinned to her face, you might’ve felt bad for getting her in trouble. 
Steve’s hands snap to his hips. “I asked you to wait in my office.” 
She shrugs, “Need a snack.”
Steve huffs and rakes a hand through his hair– a habit when he’s stressed, which is most of the time it seems. By the end of the day, his hairspray will have been combed out and Steve will argue with the strands that curl over his forehead. 
“You can have one after you clean this up and if you stay in my office.” 
“Candy?”
“No, no candy. There’s snacks in your lunchbox.” He bends to scoop up a few pamphlets to hand to her. “Or I have pretzels. Do you want that?”
She pinches a page between her nails, weighing her options. 
Steve pries tiny fingers off, “Don’t rip those. Put ‘em away please.” 
And she listens for maybe the first time ever, it seems, cramming a stack of them back on the shelf. 
You gather your own stack of handouts and press them into Steve’s sleeve. He recoils a step, his eyes widening before rapidly shutting in a moment of realization. “Sorry! You had a question- I’m sorry.” 
Penelope abandons her organizing to plant herself at Steve’s left like a sidekick– anything to get out of cleaning up. She gazes at you with a familiar pair of almond eyes and then it clicks. Her hair is the same shade of brown and her jaw, though softer, is square shaped like Steve’s. The resemblance is indisputable. 
You redirect your stare to answer Steve. “Um, yeah– I just needed to borrow the storage closet key to grab some more chairs.” 
“Oh, of course.” He pats the front pocket of his jeans. “Keys are in my office– I hope.” 
Steve marches past you once again, a new mission in mind, tugging Penelope by the wrist and toeing a cabinet shut on the way out. Penelope’s poor little legs must be tired if he always walks this fast. 
“I don’t want pretzels,” she eventually decides. 
“Then you can have what’s in your lunchbox.” He glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re in tow, “This is my daughter, Penelope, by the way.” 
“Nice to meet you, Penelope.” You wave, not that she sees. 
A braid sits high on her head, swinging like a horse's tail with each hurried step. Her faded denim overalls ride up slightly, exposing just enough ankle to show off the bubblegum pink Converse on her feet. She’s a cute little thing, button-eyed and puffy-cheeked like a cabbage patch kid. 
Steve nudges her with his hip, “Say hi.”
She throws you an impartial glance. “Hi.” 
When Steve’s office is in sight, Penelope wriggles away from his hold to sprint down the hall. On her tip-toes, she flicks on the light, letting the door slam in Steve’s face. You catch him rolling his eyes as he stops the door with his foot for you. Penelope is clambering onto his chair like it’s a race and pushing off the desk to spin as soon as she’s seated. Steve steers her out of the way to search the drawers, passing you a set of keys when he finds them. 
“Just bring ‘em back, please. Dottie found them in lost and found last week.” 
“Thanks, I will,” you promise, eyes falling over Penelope again. 
It’s your cue to leave, but your feet remain anchored to the floor. Your mind is buzzing with questions that neither of you have the time to discuss. The rational part of you knows you should exit before you let your curiosity win. Yet, you find yourself lingering in the doorway, stalling just long enough for Steve to lift an eyebrow in silent inquiry.
And before you can rule whether or not it's a good idea, you blurt out, “I can keep an eye on her if you want?” 
Penelope peaks over the back of the chair, perched on her knees so she can see. 
Steve shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. You’ve got stuff to do. And Penelope is going to be a better listener for the rest of the day, right?” He ruffles her hair, earning him a glare. 
You bite back a smile. It’s a funny thing, seeing that frown and furrowed brows that resemble Steve’s so clearly because you can’t imagine him making that face at anyone ever. It’s cute, even if it’s meant to be mean, but you would never tell her as much. 
“I really don’t mind. She could help me tape the flyers up– If she wants something to do?” You direct the last part at Penelope. To a kid, being trapped in their dad’s dusty old office is probably boredom purgatory. 
Penelope blinks at you and then Steve for permission. 
“You want to?” He asks.
She nods, then adds, “Snack too?” 
“Yes, honey.” He sighs, faint but deflated, burdened by the guilt of not feeding her sooner. Steve fishes her backpack out from under his desk. A vivid shade of pink with a Barbie patch sewn to the front. Her tin lunchbox is similarly themed and only harbors a bag of fruit snacks. 
“Fruit snacks or pretzels?” 
Penelope’s features pinch in a way that says neither but she snatches the fruit snacks anyway. Decidedly dismissed or over the conversation, she hops off the chair and sees herself out. 
You can’t help the smile that finds your lips as you turn back to Steve.
He chuckles, “It’s been a day. Bring her back if she doesn’t listen. Good luck.” 
Penelope leans against the wall outside, popping a gummy in her mouth lazily. 
“We’re gonna make a pitstop at the supply closet and then you can help me with the flyers.” 
She doesn’t say anything, but she follows as you start walking, and that’s all you need from her. She’s strangely silent for a kid, especially Steve’s kid. Conversation seems to come easy to him, he likes to talk, which is one of the reasons you still can’t believe you didn’t know he had a child. On your first day as a volunteer, he’d crammed that he was on the swim team in high school, that he's from Indiana, and that he prefers the warmer months all in one conversation– the guy is an open book.  
And you’re quiet too because you’re focused on recalling where they put that damned supply closet. The rec center halls all sort of look the same still, bleeding into one jumbled image of wood paneling and old carpet in your mind. The building is practically a maze; constructed in the fifties, it still carries its historic charm—stubborn doors, leaky faucets, and all—issues the city claims they 'can’t afford' to fix. 
Penelope must get tired of going in circles because eventually she tugs on your sleeve and points down the opposite hall you were planning on going. When she leads you right up to the door you beam at her. For a second, she forgets to be brooding and smiles back. 
“You’re a smart little cookie, Penelope. How’d you know it was here?” You ask, unlocking the door. 
She shrugs nonchalantly, “I just know things.”
You laugh loud enough to draw eyes from a nearby meeting and determine Penelope is the funniest kid you’ve ever met. 
She holds the door open at your request, munching on her fruit snacks as you maneuver a stack of chairs into the hall. You make it back to the classroom without her directions, not to toot your own horn. She tosses her empty wrapper in the trash as you unstack the chairs. 
“Here,” you pass her a roll of tape. “Rip some pieces off for me?” 
She nods, ambling over to the wall with you.  
“So, Penelope, how old are you?” You ask, pressing a flyer against the wallpaper. 
She debates, flipping fingers up and down on her free hand before concluding, “Four.” 
“Ohh, very cool. You’re almost ready to go to school with the big kids, huh?” 
“Yes, at the big school. I’m in pre-school.” 
“Mhmm. Do you like preschool?” 
She hums no and strains to tear off a piece. 
“Here, like this,” you demonstrate, pulling in the proper direction. She copies you, ripping a neat line. The corners of her lips raise as she views her handiwork. 
“You don’t like school?” You ask, peering down. 
She hands you the slice of tape. “Only sometimes.” 
“Why only sometimes?” 
She shrugs and heaves a hefty sigh for such little lungs. She’s too small to be sighing like that, you think, and she definitely acquired it from Steve. 
“I only like work sometimes too,” you admit. 
Her eyes chase yours– all innocently wide and filled with disbelief. She rips off another square of tape, “Are your friends not nice?” 
You consider her question, answering truthfully, “Well, maybe sometimes, I guess.” 
“Meg was not a kind friend today.” Her tone is hilariously chastizing for a child. Kids are just like mini adults sometimes– collecting random phrases and mannerisms like trading cards.  
“No? Why’s that?” 
“She wouldn’t share. Daddy always says sharing is caring.” 
“That’s true. Did you tell your teacher?” 
Penelope shakes her head, tilting on her heels.
“Why not?”
“Meg told the teacher on me because I wasn’t being a kind friend either.” 
“Oh. Why weren’t you being a kind friend?” 
“Because I wanted to play with the dolls too,” she mumbles, upset wavering in her voice. To a child, these seemingly trivial matters really do feel like the end of the world, so you can’t help but empathize, even as you wish your worries were confined to sharing toys.
You crouch in front of Penelope, “We still should be kind, hmm? Even when our friends don’t want to share?” 
Penelope’s unconvinced, picking at her nail like the dirt underneath is a more important issue. But you’re at the end of your stack of cardstock and it maybe isn’t your place to have this conversation anyway. 
You get her set up at a table with printer paper and a box of crayons from the closet. She dumps them out immediately, spraying rainbow across her paper so she can find the “bestest” colors.  
“I can share,” she declares, sliding her extra sheet over to your end of the table. 
“That’s very sweet of you. Thank you.” You catch a crayon before it rolls onto the floor. “What should I draw?” 
“I’m coloring my family.” 
“That’s nice. I think I’ll draw a dinosaur.” 
“A dinosaur?” She cocks her head and giggles, bubbly and pure in the way that kids laugh. Your heart aches with happiness. “That’s silly!” 
“What? Why’s that silly?” 
She cackles like this is the funniest idea anyone’s ever had. “They just are!” 
“Hmm. Should I draw a serious dinosaur then?” 
“All dinosaurs are silly– Trevor says so.”
“What! Why does he think that?” 
Her words fuse into one smear of a sound as she shrugs, “I dunno.” 
“Well, my dinosaur is very serious. See?”
She presses into your arm to examine your quick sketch. “That’s not a dinosaur!” 
“It is! You can’t tell?” 
She nibbles on her lip, smile growing as she shakes her head. 
You pull the paper closer, as if a better angle might somehow improve it. “Hmm, I guess it does look a bit like an alien, doesn’t it?”
Penelope giggles and nods enthusiastically before returning to her work. Her crayon moves methodically across the paper, lips pressed together in concentration. After a long spell of silence, she kindly requests, “Can you draw a house?” 
“Of course,” you reply, “On my paper or yours?”
“Mine,” she says, her pointer finger tapping the corner of her sheet with emphasis.
The drawing is a riot of color, blending bold strokes of crayon to create two people and an animal. The taller, presumably Steve, is painted with orange and yellow hues– true to the the warmth he represents. Penelope, doused in cooler tones, carries their floppy-eared pet– a bunny or a dog, maybe? 
“Wow, Penelope! This is amazing!” You genuinely mean it; despite her young age, her talent shines through in little details like eyelashes and a set of heart-shaped earrings. “Is this you and Daddy?”
“Yes, and Cinderella!” she adds proudly.
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” you say, admiring her work. “Is Cinderella your pet?” 
She bobs her head animatedly. 
“Wow, she looks like a very pretty… animal in your drawing.” 
“She is a very pretty cat,” Penelope affirms and you are relieved not to have guessed incorrectly. She stares at you for a long moment. “Is Cinderella family?” 
“Well, does she live with you?”
Penelope scrunches her nose and tips her head, “Sort of?”
“She sort of lives with you?”
“Yeah. She lives outside mostly but sometimes I let her inside.” Her pitch fluctuates as she talks, the words lilting in a strange, almost sing-song cadence that kids do. 
“Ohh,” you smile. “Do you feed Cinderella?”
“Yes, Daddy buys her food in a can and it’s really stinky!” 
Penelope joins you when you laugh. Not because you are but because stinky things are just funny at her age. 
“Do you love Cinderella?” You ask. 
“Yes– except when she bites me.” She sobers quickly, forehead wrinkling. 
“Oh,” you chuckle, “Well, I think she’s family then.” 
“I think so too,” she states seriously, swapping a blue crayon for a green. 
“What color should the house be?” You claw through the rainbow spread.  
“White!” 
“Well, the paper’s already white but how ‘bout I outline the house in black so you know where it is?” 
“I guess so. There’s two windows and the door is red– Oh, and there are lots of flowers outside.” 
You nod, sketching her vision into existence. “Is this your house?” 
“Yes, and Daddy’s. And sometimes Cinderella’s.”
“Just you three? Is that your whole family?” Admittedly, it’s a self-indulgent question. You’re curious about Penelope’s mom. And you noticed Steve doesn’t wear a ring, checked multiple times in the last few weeks even. But that doesn’t refute the possibility he might be seeing someone. 
“Yes, Daddy and Cinderella is my family. Daddy says families come in all shapes and sizes.” 
You’re glowing with a fondness that’s impossible to hide– because everything about her is adorable– her chubby cheeks, her tinkling little laugh, even her attitude, though Steve would probably disagree with the latter. She’s different than Steve in a lot of ways: grumpier and more aloof, but, at her age, it’s cute. And still, she feels like his carbon copy. An echo of everything you’ve come to like about him. 
Him being a dad makes perfect sense in retrospect. To have overlooked such an important part of his life seems silly. A tenderness radiates from Steve, the kind only a parent could possess. He’s full of love– too much not to share. He pours lots into his work: late nights at the center, taking on more than he can chew, always with a smile. And the rest? It must go to Penelope. 
“Your dad is very right about that.” 
She smirks confidently, holding up her artwork, “I’m going to give this to him.”
“I bet he’ll love it so much, Penelope!” 
And his dad senses must be tingling at the mention of his name because his face appears in the door’s slim window not even a minute later. His lips curve into a grin as he realizes he’s been caught spying. 
The door clicks and Penelope turns. “Hi, Daddy.”  
“Hi, baby,” Steve strolls over to the opposite side of the table, “Are you being a good listener?” His attention flicks around the room, searching for any signs of misbehavior. 
Penelope shimmies up tall in her seat and nods until he meets her pleased gaze. 
Steve must believe the girl because he doesn’t press further, but you praise her anyway, “Very good. Penelope’s been an amazing helper this afternoon.” 
“Is that right?” He orbits the table to stand behind her. “What are you drawing, Nell?”
She flips over her paper, clapping the front against the table. “It’s a surprise!”
“Oh, sorry!” He paces back, redirecting his attention to you. “I didn’t see it.” 
Penelope twists around to confirm his eyes are elsewhere before proceeding to squeeze in a final set of details– grass blades and sun rays. “Here,” she thrusts the page into his hands. “For you.” 
“For me?” His face lights up like a Christmas tree before he’s even seen it. She could hand him a pebble, and he’d treasure it like a gem. And when his eyes do fan across the drawing, he melts. 
“This is so lovely!” He coos. “Where did you get all this talent from? This belongs in a museum, Nell!” He keeps his heart from bursting with a steady palm to his chest. And with his free hand, he flashes it at you just long enough to catch a glimpse before he reels it in to study some more. “And you got Cinderella’s stripes too. Wow.” 
He squats behind Penelope’s chair, throwing an arm around her middle, “Thank you for this. And thank you for being a good listener. That makes my heart very happy.” 
She slumps into his chest, peering up at the reflection of her own features. “Is it time to go?” 
His eyes leap to the clock hung on the opposite wall. “Couple more hours, babe.”
Penelope huffs. 
“I’m gonna hang this in my office. I love it so so much!” He sows a couple of kisses on her temple, straining to stand with achy knees. “You wanna come hang out with me or stay here?” 
She looks at you like you might object. “Here.” 
If Steve’s offended, he doesn’t show it. He’s still grinning like the Cheshire cat, high on the parenting win that is receiving willing affection from your child.  “That okay?” He asks you. 
“Of course. I’ll put her to work,” you reassure. 
“Good, keep her busy. It keeps her out of trouble.” He raises the drawing for another look. “I’ll be in my office, doing paperwork, yay.” 
You snicker, as he retraces the path he came. “Have fun with that boss!”
Just before the door slams shut, he yells back, equally playful, “I told you to stop calling me that!”
Penelope doodles some more, gifting you a vibrant rendition of the night sky– a collection of stars and circles and swirls. You’re so grateful you tell her it’ll go on your fridge, and it does as soon as you’re home. She sorts through toys and equipment in the gym closet and even holds your dustpan when you sweep. Her role as your helper is taken very seriously. 
The two hours pass faster than you expect. Time flies when you're having fun, as Steve would say. All his little phrases and cheesy jokes suddenly make sense in the context of him being a dad. 
She takes your hand on the way to Steve’s office, escorting you when you pretend not to know which direction it’s in. It’s as comforting as it is validating; winning the kindness and attention of four-year-olds, especially this one, is difficult. You knock on the wood frame even though the door’s propped open. 
Steve peaks up through a rare pair of reading glasses. Round, wireframes that match the golden shade his hair assumes when it catches the light. They highlight his eyes—warm and gentle as a summer breeze. But he swipes them off his nose, folding them with practiced care. 
A smile mends his frown as Penelope climbs into his lap. “Hi, sweetheart.” 
She wiggles into a comfortable position, nudging his chest until he reclines further to make space. “Hi.”
“Are you having fun?” Steve cradles her shin to keep her from slipping. “What have you been up to?”
“Cleaning.” Her tone is casual, dismissive even, like it’s nothing to fuss over; but her eyes are fixed on him, waiting for a reaction. 
Steve gasps, “No way! You were cleaning? I don’t know if I believe it.” 
“I was!” Penelope whines, tickled with glee. 
“Hmm, is this true?” He arches an eyebrow at you. 
You nod, delighted to play along. “It is. Penelope here is excellent at handling a dustpan. She even organized the dodgeballs by color.”
“Really? Because you never-ever want to clean at home.”
“I do!” She squeals, bending backward over the arm of his chair.
“Yeah right.” He blows a raspberry on her belly where her shirt has pinched up.
She shrieks, squirming and kicking her heels into his thigh. Steve’s dad reflexes must clock in because he blocks her knee just before it drives into his cheek. And he takes it as a sign to ease up before someone gets hurt– craning back up and scooping Penelope into a baby cradle against his chest. Her legs are long and lanky, dangling over his arms like uncooked spaghetti. 
“Do we need to invite them over every time you make a mess in your room? Will that solve the problem?” He teases, squishing her arms against his shirt so she can’t escape and peppering kisses from temple to temple. 
Eventually, Penelope comes to terms that no amount of writhing will succeed against his strength. She slackens in his embrace, surrendering to the terrible thing that is unconditional love. 
“Oh, here are your keys!” They rattle against the desk where you drop them. 
Steve nods into Penelope's crown, poking her side. “Can you say ‘thank you for hanging out with me?’”
Anticipating another round of tickles, she grins before parroting, “Thank you for hanging out with me.”
“Thank you for helping me clean!”
Her eyes sweep back over to Steve, “Can we go home yet?” 
His fingers tap rhythmically on the desk, a small sigh escaping as he glances at the paperwork drowning his workspace. “We’ll leave as soon as I’m finished.” He pecks the top of her head. “Promise.”
She rolls her eyes, moaning, “Daddy, come on it’s taking, like, a million years!”
“A million? Surely not.” 
“It is!” She elongates the sound until it’s less word and more noise. 
His shoulders droop, tension slipping from his frame as he agrees, “Okay. I’m ready to go too.” 
You don’t blame him for giving in so easily, Penelope’s puppy eyes are powerful. Her chunky little hands smoosh his cheeks– molding and kneading like it’s play-doh, “Is that why your face looks so sleepy?”
A hearty laugh bursts from his throat, “Yes, that’s why my face looks so sleepy.” He pats her arms, “Come on. Up.” 
Penelope scoots off his knees, gripping his wrist for balance. Steve ducks under the desk for his backpack and shoves the stack of paperwork inside. 
“Hey, I meant to ask you, is the new schedule working okay for you?” He asks you, always so thoughtful. 
You nod earnestly. “Yeah, actually, I like doing Fridays better I think.”
“Yeah, Fridays are fun. Fitness Friday has been a big hit with the high school's soccer team.” He slings his bag over his shoulder and lifts Penelope’s by the strap. 
“Oh, good! Did the new jump ropes come in?” Conversations like this, as mundane as they are, are fleeting– the next interruption always around the corner– so you savor it while you have him. 
“Mmmm, not yet. I think they’re coming next week– shipping delays or something.” 
You turn to leave but stop in your tracks, attention stolen by Penelope’s drawing. As promised, it’s hung up– a few pieces of scotch tape secure it to the wall across from his desk. 
“I’m gonna get a frame for it,” Steve passes you with a toothy smile, flicking off the light. 
Penelope chimes in before you can respond, “Can I play jump rope?”
“I don't know if you know how, babe. I can teach you.” 
“I can! I did at school!”
“You did? I didn’t know that.” Steve waves to a passing coworker. “Maybe we’ll buy one for home too then.” 
Penelope nods, hopping the last stretch to the front door. 
“Any fun plans this weekend?” Steve asks you outside, bumping the back of Penelope’s hand until she takes his. The parking lot is almost empty at this time of day, but a few stragglers remain inside after hours. 
“If you think laundry is fun, then sure.” 
“Oh, I know all about that, trust me.” He nods at Penelope, “This one goes through more clothes in a week than I do in a month.” 
Steve approaches a BMW, only a few spots over from your car. An older model, but well taken care of. It’s a nice shade of burgundy with a stick-figure family on the back windshield. It feels so him. 
You hum a happy sound. “What about you? Any plans?” 
“Besides laundry? Well, we’re actually going kayaking at Red Fleet tomorrow,” he unlocks the passenger door, tucking the backpacks in the footwell. 
“Oh, fun! Are you excited?” You ask Penelope. 
“I’m gonna look for frogs.” 
She wrenches the handle a few times before her door flies open. Steve intercepts mid-swing to prevent her from denting the neighboring truck at the expense of his fingers. 
“Ow– shit,” he grimaces, shaking his wrist. He visibly swallows any other swears when he sees Penelope gawking, “Nell, I’ve told you to be gentle with the door.” 
“You said we can’t say that word,” she points out, climbing into her car seat.
You scrub your mouth, not so inconspicuously erasing your smile. 
“I– yes,” he nods, “You’re right. We shouldn’t say that word. I just–”
“Even when we’re frustrated; that’s what you said!” 
Steve takes a deep breath through his nose, choking down his several feelings. She’s right, he did say that, to hopefully stop her from swearing at preschool, but the profanity policing is comical coming from a four-year-old. And he can’t be laughing right now– he has parenting to do– but he’s on the verge of breaking when he catches sight of your face.  
Steve collects himself as he buckles her in. “Yes, Penelope. I shouldn’t have said it. I’m sorry.” 
She pats his head, “It’s okay. We all do mistakes.” 
Steve softens. The irritation evaporates instantly, replaced by a surge of satisfaction. This is one of those rare moments where he can so clearly recognize the lessons he’s instilled taking shape. 
He lets himself chuckle then, “We do. We all make mistakes and that’s okay.” 
She nods as he tightens her straps, “Like when I spilled my juice this morning.”
“Exactly.” He triple-checks that all her limbs are safely out of the door’s reach before shutting it.  
He faces you, scratching his cheek– rosy and round with joy. “How much you wanna bet she swears at me tomorrow?”
“Hey, I don’t doubt it!” Your elation mirrors his. 
“If she can’t find any frogs at the park I can almost guarantee it.” 
“Better help her look then.” 
“Yeah, yeah. I’d invite you but it’s reservation-based. And I’d be surprised if there’s any spots open still… But we can sneak you in if you really want to go.” It’s meant to be a joke, but something in the way he holds your gaze suggests a level of seriousness. 
“No, that’s okay,” you grin. “The pile of laundry on my bed awaits.”
“Well, maybe next time.” 
You try not to read into it. Steve’s a friendly guy, he probably invites his coworkers out to things all the time. 
You nod, idling at the hood of his beamer. 
“I really appreciate you watching her today. You’re a lifesaver, truly,” he shakes his head, peeking at Penelope through the window. “She’s been a handful lately– I mean, I had to pick her up early today because she bit another kid, can you believe that?” 
“She’s a kid,” you shrug, “All kids do that at some point.”  
“I don’t know,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I’m honestly at my witts end. This is her third warning and if she gets kicked out of school— I don’t know what I’ll do.” 
“From what I saw today, she’s a really good kid, Steve. I can’t imagine they’d do that.” 
“I’ve just been so busy, you know, sometimes I wonder if she acts out because of that– and it’s just me so I can’t–” he pauses, wiping his face, “God– I’m sorry, you’re… I’m just dumping all of this on you when you’re trying to leave.”
“No! It’s okay, I don’t mind, really.” 
“It’s– Well, it’s a lot and I,” he’s cut short by Penelope knocking on the glass, impatience strewn across her features. 
He throws up his pointer finger to tell her one second. “We can talk next week. You’ll be here Friday?” 
“Yep. I will see you then,” you nod, backing up a step so he can cross over to the driver’s side. 
“Okay, thanks again,” he says, opening his door. 
You wave goodbye, “Of course. Have fun kayaking!” 
“You too!” He yells, then mumbles, “Shit.” 
“Dad!” Penelope’s voice scolds. 
A warmth simmers in your chest as you walk away– a fizzy feeling that had been bottled up and crammed into a forgotten corner of your body. But as soon as you’re settling into the privacy of your car, it boils over into this rush of giddy exhilaration, electrifying every inch of your skin. Giggles cut through the silence as your smile stretches wider, completely untamable. There’s no stopping this, not when you’re already fantasizing about a next time with Steve.
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giannaln4 · 18 hours
Text
I Missed You
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lando norris x fem reader
summary: You missed seeing Lando being happy after a race, and you couldn't wait to tell him how proud you were.  (1.4k words)
warnings: fluff, stablished relationship, a bit of mclaren slander
a/n: when i tell you i loved this idea SO SO much. i’m not too sure i’m happy with how this turned out but i really hope you guys enjoy it 🩷 i apologise for posting this just before the race but it was a bit hard to get started for some reason 😭 anyway pls let me know what you think!!
check out the original request here!
↺ back to navigation — send me a request!
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The weekend in Monza was one you were hoping to forget. The tension in the air reflected not only in the team but also in the comments people were making about it, having even sports commentators and content creators question McLaren’s entire strategy to keep their fighting position in the WCC and also have a shot at the WDC. 
Lando’s demeanour immediately after getting off the car was something you would never forget, though, even if you tried. It was pretty obvious for everyone, even if he tried his hardest to never say something bad about his team and his teammate. That team was his home anyway. He had been with McLaren even before his F1 career started, and even after weekends like this one, he would never doubt he wanted to achieve great things with them.
That is probably what made it harder for him. This year they were competing not only for points and podiums but for something bigger, and after knowing what he is capable of, ending up in that position absolutely crushed him, and you hated to see him debating with himself. 
Once the weekend was finally over and you were leaving Italy, you wanted to make him feel better, telling him how great he was and how proud you were. You even shot some comments at McLaren for everything that went down, but he didn’t want to hear it; he barely wanted to talk about it, so you just dropped it. You understood him anyway, so you had to leave everything behind and just be supportive of your boyfriend.
You were hoping this weekend would be different, better, everyone was, and there was a lot of talking in the team that they would make the right decisions to keep fighting now that they had the chance. This, of course, would only mean something until they actually proved it during the race. 
Lando was in a better mood coming into this weekend; he trusted his team and he was confident they were backing him up. That was until the qualifying came. A yellow flag being pulled out by mistake during Q1 caused him to lose the opportunity to even put up a fight, and he ended up being P17. It wasn’t even his fault, but you knew he was beating himself up for that result. 
“Lando,” you called him right after he came back to the garage to watch the rest of the qualifying. He looked at you with a disappointed smile. “It’s not your fault, baby.”
“I know.” He pulled you into a hug, not wanting you to worry about him too much. “There’s nothing I could have done. We just have to wait and see what we can do tomorrow.”
“I’m sure you’ll do amazing,” you replied into his chest, rubbing small circles in his back to let him know you were there for him, no matter what. 
“We’ll see. The car felt okay, but it’s hard to overtake on this track. It’s quite a long straight.” He let out a nervous giggle as he pulled away; he didn’t sound as confident as you were hoping, but you knew he was right. “Some of it is just going to have to cross our fingers.”
There was no point in fighting him when he got like that, so you just nodded. “I’ll be crossing everything I have then.”
He went off with the rest of his team as you stayed back to watch the rest of the cars complete the qualifying. The air was starting to get tense again, and even though you knew everyone was nervous with Lando’s result, you weren’t sure if it was just your own feelings talking. But like Lando said, you were going to have to wait and see what the team could come up with, you were just hoping they would do the right thing.
Race day was finally here, and with Lewis starting from the pit lane due to a new power unit and Pierre being excluded due to fuel flow rate, Lando had been promoted to P15. Sure, it would have been better if Lando had the chance to fight for his starting position, but at least that was something. 
You could see he was still not completely confident in how the race would go, but you trusted enough for the both of you. 
Watching the race from the garage was something that always made you incredibly nervous, but especially in this position. But Lando managed to get to P12 by lap 2, and everyone was incredibly excited by his overtakes. 
As the race went on and he felt more confident with the car, he started to climb his way up to the top 10, trusting the team’s decisions with the strategy they were sticking to, and you were so glad everything was falling in place. 
The rest of the race still made you bite your nails at how nervous you were, but the bliss in the entire garage when he overtook someone was indescribable. He was driving the race of his life, and even the radios he exchanged with the team radiated that. As always, the last few laps were nervewracking, but the fact that he made it all the way to P6 and was even helping Oscar with his own race left everyone with a good taste. Not a complete terrible weekend after all. 
During the last lap, however, an unfortunate crash between Carlos and Checo pushed him to P4, meaning he gained 11 positions during the race; not that you ever doubted him, but seeing him end up there with the fastest lap after an absolute mess of the qualifying made you excited to see him. After confiming everyone was okay, you took the liberty to celebrate your boyfriend’s race.
Lando got out of the car and went to greet his team, cheers and smiles all over the place. Everyone was praising him for the incredible work he made, and his smile didn’t go away for a second the entire time. 
You knew you would still have to wait to congratulate him; he still had to do media before coming back to his room, where you were waiting for him, but seeing him so happy in the monitors made you grow impatient. 
It felt like it had been a while since you saw him so happy after a race.
After what felt like forever, you heard him come back to the garage. You stoop up from the small couch and opened the door, where you were greeded by your boyfriend. 
“Hey, you.” You said, closing the door behind him.
“Hi,” he replied, smile so big you could see his dimples.
“That was amazing, Lando. I knew you would do amazing, but I can’t even describe how proud I am.” 
He smiled even more at your words. He closed the distance between you when he took a few steps, wrapping you in his arms and kissing you deeply. You could even feel him smiling then, and that filled your heart.
“Thank you; it was a good day,” he said when he pulled away, looking down at you with loving eyes. “I think everything worked out.” You just nodded as you admired him.
“I missed you,” you whispered as you brushed a few curls that fell on his forehead.
“What do you mean? We’ve been together the last three weeks. You saw me just before the race." To say he was confused was an understatement, and you could see it in his face.
“I mean you, this. I missed seeing you so happy and smiley. Looks good on you.”
Lando was a bit embarrassed by your confession; he thought he did a better job at hiding how much the results affected him, at least to you. It was never his intention to be so down when he was with you, but man, was he endeared by your words. “I needed this,” was all he said, and you know he was right. And it wasn’t only him; you knew the team needed this as well.
“I know, and I know you hate to hear it, but I told you.”
He let out a laugh, not a nervous one this time. “Yes, you did,” he hugged you again, much tighter as he buried his face on the crook of your neck. “Thank you for being here and supporting me, even during my bad times.” He spoke with so much sincerity. 
“I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
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