#THIS ISN’T A HOT TAKE SO DON’T TRY TO COME FOR ME
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SAKUSA ANGST??????❤️
By the time Kiyoomi gets to home, the moon is halfway past the skyline and high in space, and the bright light trickles through the blinds, carving your disappointed features while Kiyoomi jumps at the sight of you, standing firmly in the living room.
"Jeez," he snickers, putting his keys on the counter. "You scared me, baby, what're you doing up-"
"I know, Kiyoomi."
His brows furrow in confusion, but behind his dark pools, you see shame. And his eyes always gave him away. “What? What’re you talking about?”
You blink lazily, “I saw Hinata. You weren’t with him. Told me you never even texted him.” You shake your head, “if you’re going to commit adultery, make sure you have all your bases covered.”
He stays silent for a moment, letting his eyes cast down and avoiding your judgmental, hurt gaze. A hand comes up to scratch the back of his head, pick at a hangnail, jam into his pockets, anything and everything to not meet your betrayed looks.
“How long?”
“Baby, I-“
“Do not pull that manipulative shit on me,” you say exhaustedly. “Don’t start with that nonsense. I want to know how long. And I want to know who.”
He finally meets your eyes, “I made a mistake-“
“No no. New couples make mistakes,” you snap, hoping that by yelling out your frustrations you won’t cry the hot tears swelling in your waterline. “We’ve been together three years, you don’t get to make those kinds of mistakes, you don’t get to tell me not to worry about one person, then cheat on me.”
When he slowly lowers his hands, guilt struck in his gaze, you feel bile rising up your throat.
“It’s… your PR manager. Isn’t it?” You chuckle. “Your “work babe”? The one you assured me was over and done with?”
“No no, you’ve got to listen to me-“
“After I specifically begged you to tell me it wasn’t true, after you assured me nothing funny was going down, after you told me you’d gone to their house to fire them-“
He looks away. Darts his eyes again. Your hands come up to cover your mouth, “oh my god… you… went there to be with them- YOU WENT THERE TO BE WITH THEM WHILE I WAS HOME? WAILING OVER YOU?!”
He says nothing to defend himself, and you scream and jump up and out of your seat, grabbing the nearest pillow and smacking him with it. He shields himself with his arms, ducking slightly from your swings, but he doesn’t say anything. Nothing to change your mind, sway your thinking or deny, deny, deny anything.
“You lied to me!” You sob, finally losing your composure. “You lied square to my face, for what! For THEM?!”
“Baby, listen-“
“DONT FUCKING CALL ME THAT, SAKUSA!” You shriek, throwing the pillow down and meeting his teary eyes with your enraged ones. “Don’t FUCKING start with me!”
He calls your name in an attempt to calm you down, extending his arms to create distance, “it was a mistake, I made mistakes.”
“And that’s a crock of shit.”
“I thought I was missing something, and I thought they could give it to me! Honest! It meant nothing, just meaningless dates and kisses to try and fill something inside that I needed, and-
“You are not helping yourself right now, Sakusa,” you pant.
“I wanted to leave them, I swear on my mother-“
“And you couldn’t manage to do that.”
“So now what?” He chokes. “So-So-So are we just done? Three years just gone?”
“Because of you.”
“I’m not going to let this happen,” he sobs, collapsing to his knees and wrapping his arms around your legs. “Please, don’t leave me. I’ll fire them. You can go with me.”
“Clearly firing them isn’t going to make a difference,” you snarl. “Since your tongues been down their throat and god knows what else.” You shake him off your legs and continue to look down at him in distain, “I’ll have the boys send for my things. I’m staying with Osamu. Do not contact me anymore.” You shake him off your legs, and he looks up at you like a kicked dog.
“No-“
“Yeah, you don’t get to say no, anymore,” you snap. “Since clearly you had a hard enough time doing it for them. I’m taking control of the situation now. You will never make a fool out of me again.”
“Please,” he begs, “I hated it, I hated all of it, I-“
“Stop lying, Kiyoomi,” you shake your head. “It’s not worth it. You’re not going to sway me.”
At that, Kiyoomi stops. His eyes blink a line of tears down, his hands rest in his lap, and his bottom lip trembles. You take a deep breath, “please let Osamu in when he comes for my belongings.”
He says nothing. He merely continues to stare up at you desperately, pleadingly, and you scoff before making your way down the hall to grab your packed bag. “Unreal,” you hiss. “You are unbelievable.”
“You don’t have to leave,” he chokes. “You can stay here, I’ll leave, I’ll go to Bokuto’s, he’ll-“
“He’ll let you in and stay with him after you have the nerve to cheat on me?” You scoff. “Bokuto is not an idiot. He’s not going to just ignore the shitty things you do because you’re his teammate.”
Kiyoomi knows that if you walk through that door, you’ll never come back. You know it’s tearing him up inside, you see it in his exhausted features and you know it in your soul.
Good.
#HEHEHEHEHEHEHEBEBEHEHEHE#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa kiyoomi angst#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa kiyoomi x reader angst#sakusa kiyoomi imagine#sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader#sakusa kiyoomi haikyuu#sakusa#sakusa angst#sakusa x reader#sakusa x reader angst#sakusa x gn!reader#sakusa imagine#sakusa haikyuu#haikyuu#haikyuu angst#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x reader angst#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu x gn!reader#haikyuu x gender neutral reader#haikyuu x yn#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n
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“Don’t forget me when you become a hot shot pilot mister.” You said to him with tears in your eyes. He looked back at you with something that could only be described as melancholy and kissed your forehead, “I could never forget you tiny dancer.
🥹🥹🥹
You two kept up with each other for the first two years of your college time, but communication became scarce. He didn’t come home for the holidays, you couldn’t blame him though. He finally got out of there, he was doing what he always wanted to do. Communication between the two of you completely went away during your junior year. You’ve kept up with him through your parents and his, and to say you were proud was an understatement.
It's sad but I feel like very common at that age for the communication to fizzle out but I love it that she is still so proud of him 🥹
“We’re just happy to see you and we are hoping you have a great time tonight.” With the cryptic answer said, she walks away leaving you to sit there in your skepticism.
Very suspicious 👀🤔
You see a plane fly across the sky and you huff out a laugh, realizing you’re dreams of seeing Jake again, came true tonight.
That's so cute 🥰
“So-” “It was-” You both start trying to talk simultaneously and once you realize, you both start giggling. You nod your head to tell him he can go first, and with a shy smile he rubs the back of his neck and says, “It was nice to see you again sweetheart, I was really hoping you’d be here.” That warmth from earlier creeps back up your neck, and you smile softly at him. “I was hoping you’d be here too cowboy.” You both just sit there with smiles, and after a few beats of silence you add quietly, “I missed you.” What you could only call longing, flashes in his eyes, before he smiles at you, “I missed you too tiny dancer.”
🥹🥹🥹
“And what was that?” His face is a bit more hopeful now, or maybe you’re just going crazy. After a moment of just looking into his eyes, you turn to fidget with your sweater and finally speak. “They weren’t you Jake.” It came out softer than you thought it would. The silence surrounds you like a suffocating room, and panic starts to claw its way up your throat. You’re about to apologize profusely when Jake finally speaks. “That’s why I don’t have anyone waiting for me sweets. They weren’t you. The gorgeous girl I’ve known since diapers, who has always been so caring. Who put others before herself. The girl who knows me and my family, and still chooses to be around us.” You stare at him with wide eyes, trying to absorb everything that was just said. Softly, you reply, “I will always choose you, Jake. The boy who didn’t let me go to bed upset. The boy who constantly cheered me on in everything I did. The boy who set his sights on something and chased it. ” Your chest feels lighter, while your heart beats at a lightspeed rate.
Ahhh finally 🥰
“So can I take you out tomorrow sweetheart? I should’ve asked you that years ago.” He asks with a smirk across his lips. You mirror his smirk as you respond, “You sure can cowboy. We have a lot of time to make up for.” You both slowly lean in, and your lips meet in a short kiss that makes fireworks go off in your stomach. You both pull away, but that one kiss isn’t enough. The two of you share another short kiss, before breaking out into a long deep kiss. He dips you a bit with this one. Everything you’ve ever dreamed of has come true under the twinkling lights. You’ll have to make sure to send the Seresin women some cookies and flowers for planning this.
🥰🥰🥰
a long long time
jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader
pictures from pinterest!!
word count: 2.8k
summary: childhood best friends, who always felt a bit more about each other, finally see each other after 12 years. will all their wishes come true at the Seresin holiday party?
warnings: childhood best friends to lovers! fluff!! cheesy goodness!! no use of y/n but reader does uses she/her pronouns! pet names: sweets, sweetheart, darlin, tiny dancer. no looks are given besides an outfit!
an: this is heavily inspired by ‘Its been a long long time’ by harry james! definitely recommend listening to it while reading! can you guys tell i love when people dance together as a form of intimacy? thank you to my friends who have no clue who jake is, who proofread this. & thank you guys for all the love on my other two fics! this is incredibly new to me so to see that people like the stories is really amazing. thank you. likes, comments, and reblogs are deeply appreciated!!
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Growing up, Jake Seresin was always by your side. Jake’s mom and your mom were best friends, meaning the two of you were destined to be in each other’s lives. Of course, you two went through the phases of disgust when one of you thought the other had cooties, but they never deterred your friendship. When you would fall off your bike and cry because you scraped your knee, Jake would immediately be by your side. Jake’s PeeWee football games never had a silent crowd, of course not. Little you would be right there next to his parents, screaming the loudest for him. A dance recital, nervous about your performances? Don’t worry, Jake would be right there in the front row next to both of your families, with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.
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High school hit, and Jake became the star football player who girls and guys alike pined after. You on the other hand were a quiet theater kid, dancing still, and leading the school newspaper. Despite running in different social circles, you two were still attached at the hip. The sharp stares you received from girls who wanted Jake would burn into your head, but you never let that affect your friendship. The free time you two had was spent with each other, taking long drives when you needed to clear your head, watching new episodes of TV shows you both enjoyed, and studying together. There has always been a hint of something more between you two, but out of fear of ruining things, you never made a move. Although, there was a time during your senior year when the possibility of being something more didn’t seem as distant. You two had just taken a long drive to a field in the middle of Texas to watch the sunset. It was then that you two shared your first kiss, and then it was over, and neither of you brought it back up. You knew you had feelings for him. That wasn’t even a question. But those feelings would not outweigh your friendship, you’d rather have him in this way, than in no way at all.
When Jake got into the Naval Academy, you were ecstatic for him. He had been dreaming about getting out of here since you were little tots, and now he had his out. You got into a school an hour away for Broadcast Journalism, and he was just as excited for you. When you told him, he picked you up and spun you around, both of you reminiscing on the days when he would play with his model planes and you would pretend to report every little thing that was happening around you two. Graduation day came and went, and soon you were getting ready to send Jake on his way to Maryland.
“Don’t forget me when you become a hot shot pilot mister.” You said to him with tears in your eyes. He looked back at you with something that could only be described as melancholy and kissed your forehead, “I could never forget you tiny dancer. Plus we can still keep up with each other, and I’ll see you over the holidays!”
You two kept up with each other for the first two years of your college time, but communication became scarce. He didn’t come home for the holidays, you couldn’t blame him though. He finally got out of there, he was doing what he always wanted to do. Communication between the two of you completely went away during your junior year. You’ve kept up with him through your parents and his, and to say you were proud was an understatement.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
It’s been 12 years since you last saw Jake Seresin. You would be lying if you said you didn’t think about him a lot of the time. After you graduated from UT at Austin, you moved back home and started to work at the local news station as an Anchor. Your free time is spent with friends, going out to bars, or just brunch together. They always hound you about finding a guy, “Come on!! You’re single, hot, and an amazing person!” “You can’t just sit here all night, come meet Tyler, I promise you’ll like him! Please?” You knew they had good intentions, with their bright smiles and kind words. So you tried. You would go out with who they wanted you to, but every time, it felt as though something was missing. You knew what was missing, you just didn’t want to admit it. Seasons change but you don’t think your feelings for those
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The holiday season is always your favorite time of year. From October to January, you feel lighter. Walking around to see decorations everywhere, families laughing together, and hot apple cider to warm the now-cold Texas air. Work is busy, but you can’t complain, you love your job. Recently you covered a story about a baker and her husband who had just celebrated the 30th anniversary of their bakery by having the cutest reindeer cookies and a huge cake for everyone who may want a slice.
Tonight is the annual Seresin family Christmas party, and just like every other year, you hold on to hope that Jake will be there. You know it’s a stretch, but you can’t help but be hopeful.
You bought a new outfit just for tonight, a red cable knit sweater, a black mini-skirt with black transparent tights, and black leather boots that went up to your calves. After adding some touch-ups to your makeup, you decided you were ready to go, grabbed your purse, and headed towards the Seresin’s house. It was about a 5-minute walk from your new place, which is quite convenient, and you spent the entire walk with your head in the clouds, daydreaming about the pilot who stole your heart all those years ago.
Walking into the house you spent so much time at as a child, a sense of warmth feels you. The entire house smells like freshly baked cookies, Christmas lights twinkle along the hallway, and the sounds of laughter and soft Christmas music fills your ears. Mama Seresin sees you and you are immediately engulfed in a hug that could probably fix anybody who is on the receiving side of it. “Oh my goodness look at you!!! You get more beautiful each time I see you.” You felt your face heat up instantly, shying away a bit from her kind words. “Thank you mama Seresin. I’m happy to be here again, happy holidays.” She pulled back and had an incredulous look on her face.
“Thank me?? Sweetheart, you are welcome at this house any day, any time. Make yourself at home, tonight should be a wonderful night.” She winked at you and left you standing there in the entryway.
After making your rounds, you grabbed yourself a drink and sat on the couch watching “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation” with one of Jake’s sisters. She kept looking over at you with a sly smirk on her face so you snapped, “What is going on with y’all tonight? First your mama winks at me, Elizabeth said she was ‘So excited’ for me tonight, and now you can’t stop looking at me like the cat who caught the canary! So what is going on?” With an exasperated look on your face, you fully turn to look at her. Charlotte just slides off the couch and smiles, “We’re just happy to see you and we are hoping you have a great time tonight.” With the cryptic answer said, she walks away leaving you to sit there in your skepticism.
After an hour or so, everyone has made it and dinner is about to be served. At least you thought everyone had made it, that is until you hear a knock on the door. Mama Seresin rushes to open it, and you lean over the arm of the couch to see who it is. You can’t tell if it's the winter air or who you see standing there, but a chill runs down your spine. In all his glory, Jake Seresin is standing there with several suitcases and a bright smile on his face. Taking him in, you notice he’s grown into himself in the last 12 years, His sandy blonde hair isn’t as long, he’s filling in the brown button-up shirt very nicely, and he’s grown at least 3 inches since you last saw him. He’s still got his cowboy boots on and a smile that could light up a room, so not everything has changed. Finally, you look back up to his face, and you lock eyes with the man who has never left your mind.
You stand, mouth agape, and the two of you finally make your way to each other. You meet in the middle of the entryway, and as soon as his arms are around you it’s like everybody and everything fades away. You stay there in the comfort of each other’s arms for a few more seconds and when you finally pull away, the sounds from the rest of the house fade back in. Looking at each other, you feel a warmth creeping up your neck, the chill from earlier has fully disappeared. “Hi,” you said with a shy smile as you fiddle with the cuff of his sleeve. “Hi sweetheart,” he replies with the kindest smile you’ve ever seen. The moment is broken when someone clears their throat behind you, “Dinner is ready.” You turn and see the Seresin women standing there with smirks across all of their faces. Looking back at Jake you realize he’s got a scowl on his face, and you just giggle a bit. At the sound of your giggle, he looks back at you, the scowl being replaced with a shy smile, “We can talk after dinner?” You nod your head and make your way toward the dining room.
Dinner is the most delicious thing, but you would never expect anything less from Mama Seresin. She always cooks things with love, which makes things 10,000 times better. Once you get turned away from helping with dishes, you make your way outside to get some air. It’s a bit chilly, the backyard is decorated with lights strung across the way, the music from inside the house carries softly across the yard although it’s muffled, and stars are shining so bright in the night sky. You see a plane fly across the sky and you huff out a laugh, realizing you’re dreams of seeing Jake again, came true tonight. At least you know why the family acted so odd tonight. You take a seat in one of the cushy chairs sat up in the backyard, and stare up at the sky.
Surely Jake didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight, Has he changed a lot? Did he miss you as much as you missed him? Was your pining so obvious to everyone that they sat this up? Your mind starts spiraling with thoughts, and a bit of nervous tension sets in as you sit out there. The music gets less muffled for a second, meaning someone has just opened the back door, but it’s quickly snuffed back out. You don’t bother to turn your head, your mind is busy with so many questions. In your peripheral, you see the man on your mind take a seat next to you. He looks up at the sky and you can feel the nervousness roll off of you both as you sit there.
You turn to look at him, right as he turns to look at you, and you both sit there taking each other in for a second. “So-” “It was-” You both start trying to talk simultaneously and once you realize, you both start giggling. You nod your head to tell him he can go first, and with a shy smile he rubs the back of his neck and says, “It was nice to see you again sweetheart, I was really hoping you’d be here.” That warmth from earlier creeps back up your neck, and you smile softly at him. “I was hoping you’d be here too cowboy.” You both just sit there with smiles, and after a few beats of silence you add quietly, “I missed you.” What you could only call longing, flashes in his eyes, before he smiles at you, “I missed you too tiny dancer.”
The two of you fall into easy conversation. He tells you all about the Naval Academy, and how he is the “best of the best,” which you don’t doubt. Once he sets his mind on something, he doesn’t give up. You learn he’s living out in San Diego, but he constantly misses the Texas skyline. You tell him all about your experience at UT at Austin, and how your job at the local news station is going. You both continue just telling each other what you’ve both missed out on.
At some point, the conversation shifts to relationships. You take a deep breath and ask, “So do you have anyone special waiting for you back in California?” He takes a minute to just look at you before responding, “No sweetheart, I don’t. Do you have anyone missing you tonight?” You let out your breath at the word “no,” and chuckle. “The only person missing me tonight is my fish, Mr. Speckle.” He throws back his head and barks out a laugh at that, before looking back at you with a wide smile. It shifts to a bit of an apprehensive smile before he asks, “Is there any reason? You’re a gorgeous girl who is amazing sweetheart, I’m sure guys are lining up for a date with you.”
You knew you could try and lie to him, but he knows you too well. He would immediately figure you out, so you shake your head and respond truthfully. “I’ve tried over the years. But every single time, it didn’t feel right. Something was always missing. It took me a while to realize what that was.”
“And what was that?” His face is a bit more hopeful now, or maybe you’re just going crazy. After a moment of just looking into his eyes, you turn to fidget with your sweater and finally speak. “They weren’t you Jake.” It came out softer than you thought it would. The silence surrounds you like a suffocating room, and panic starts to claw its way up your throat.
You’re about to apologize profusely when Jake finally speaks. “That’s why I don’t have anyone waiting for me sweets. They weren’t you. The gorgeous girl I’ve known since diapers, who has always been so caring. Who put others before herself. The girl who knows me and my family, and still chooses to be around us.” You stare at him with wide eyes, trying to absorb everything that was just said. Softly, you reply, “I will always choose you, Jake. The boy who didn’t let me go to bed upset. The boy who constantly cheered me on in everything I did. The boy who set his sights on something and chased it. ” Your chest feels lighter, while your heart beats at a lightspeed rate.
Looking at Jake, he has a boyish grin on his face, rubbing the back of his neck again. In the blink of an eye, he is in front of you with his hand held out. You look at him like you’re considering your options for a second, just to make him sweat a bit, but ultimately you take his hand with an affectionate smile. He pulls you close and wraps his arms around your waist, your arms going around his neck, playing with the collar of his shirt. The two of you dance to the muffled music coming from inside, under the twinkling lights of the backyard you’ve spent so much time in over the years. You look up at him to find him already staring at you. He’s got a look of love in his eyes, and you’re sure he sees the same look in yours.
“So can I take you out tomorrow sweetheart? I should’ve asked you that years ago.” He asks with a smirk across his lips. You mirror his smirk as you respond, “You sure can cowboy. We have a lot of time to make up for.” You both slowly lean in, and your lips meet in a short kiss that makes fireworks go off in your stomach. You both pull away, but that one kiss isn’t enough. The two of you share another short kiss, before breaking out into a long deep kiss. He dips you a bit with this one. Everything you’ve ever dreamed of has come true under the twinkling lights. You’ll have to make sure to send the Seresin women some cookies and flowers for planning this.
From inside the house, the Seresin family is silently cheering. They’ve watched both of you pine after each other for so long, they knew y’all just needed a bit of a push in the right direction.
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Video Girl!AU
this is dumb as hell but i had to get it out there because i am so so so ill for ghoap
Soap did not remember this video store. He’s passed by this street hundreds of times— surely… he would’ve seen it. Then again, maybe heartbreak makes you see the world differently. The clerk hands him a member card with a smile, and a promise that they’d have what he needed.
Yeah, he was doubting that. He didn’t recognize any of these titles. But something catches his eye– a girl on the cover of a VHS. One that’s just his type– a cute face, a gorgeous body, and a teasing little smile.
He turns the lights off in his room, slotting the tape into the VCR. It makes a kinda clunky, scary noise but eventually loads up the movie. It’s got a production logo like it’s softcore porn, which it very well could be– that’s what you get for picking by the cover without reading the back. Not that he’d mind if it was.
The girl from the cover appears on the screen, just as radiant. Maybe more, now that she’s in motion. Her laugh sounds like bells– gentle, sweet, innocent.
“Thank you. Thank you for choosing my video! Oh, why do you look so sad?” What was this, some sort of girlfriend experience type of thing?
“Oh, I see, unrequited love is it? Don’t let it get you down though, okay? They just don’t understand you. You’ve got a lot to offer another person. I know I’m not much, but. How would you feel about letting me be the one to cheer you up?”
Video girl’s got him right pegged. Though he supposes it's not an uncommon reason to rent a flick with a hot girl on the cover. He sighs. Her expression softens even more in sympathy, her eyebrows drawn in as she pouts on his behalf.
“ I see...it’s that bad huh...? Poor guy, there’s no way just a video is gonna help you…” Ain’t that the truth? Terrible way to get him to rent more tapes, though. An epiphany seems to strike the girl, and a smile spreads over her face.
“That’s it! I’ll stay with you for as long as it takes!”
Imagine being the girl from a video Soap rented while wallowing in his feelings. Rejected by Simon, for reasons he doesn’t understand. They got along so well– different from the other guys. But then again, judging from how Simon looks at Price whenever he steps into the room… Maybe he does know why he was rejected.
When you come from the screen, Johnny’s surprised none of his neighbors call the cops, because he screams bloody murder.
You vow to help him… to help him be less lonely. To help him get the guy he wants. For the one month that his rental lasts, at least.
When you meet the guys, Soap is able to put together some lie about you being a friend of his sister who’s staying with him while you’re in town.
It’s just your luck that Ghost has a sixth sense. Man knows there’s something strange about you. The otherworldly knows the otherworldly.
And to make matters worse… You’re supposed to be a world-class lover. A teasing, minxy girl who knows just how to make a man fall over himself and beg for more without breaking a sweat. Or, you would be– if you hadn’t been played on a broken VCR.
Now you’re so damned timid. Incredibly sensitive, shy, stuttering whenever you make eye contact with any guy that isn’t Soap. And to Ghost, it’s like smelling blood in the water.
He’s constantly cornering you, chatting you up, trying to fluster you. He hardly knows he’s doing it, sniffing you out and trying to get you to crack. Quite frankly, you’re doing a terrible job of getting the two of them together.
And when Soap sees this all happening… He feels like he’s supposed to be jealous of you. He is–but it isn’t just that. He’s jealous of both of you… and at the same time, seeing you together seems so natural-- and it turns him the fuck on.
#writing#cod fanfic#john soap mactavish#john soap mctavish x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#johnny mactavish#video girl!AU#gh
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I Am Your Destiny (Yandere!Rio Vidal x female!reader)
Summary: You had recently gotten engaged and you couldn’t be happier. But someone you’re close with has taken it upon herself to ensure that that will never come to pass, that you are hers and hers alone….
Prompts taken from the Yandere Writing List by @yandere-daze
67. " Nothing can separate us now."
38. "Only look at me with these pretty eyes of yours."
(CW: Kidnapping, forced kiss, potential murder implications, (kinda up to interpretation) restraint, (just on the ankle) possible drugging)
Author’s Note: I actually managed to get one of my ideas out of my head and into a story, holy shit!
Reader is, of course, 18+.
Your eyes shoot open as a soft breeze brushes against you.
“Where the hell am I?” you whisper fearfully as your eyes dart around. It looks like a clearing in the moonlight surrounded by a thick forest, but….it feels unnatural.
The last thing you remember is preparing your wedding invitations. Your partner of seven years had proposed to you and you’d been nose-deep in preparations despite the date being far off. But there’s bigger fish to fry.
Your heart pounds, your breathing quickens; is this a kidnapping? You try to stand up, but something’s keeping you down on your knees. Looking behind you, you see a rope of green light surrounding your ankle, the other end tied to a tree. This escape clearly isn’t going to be easy.
Suddenly you hear a familiar chuckle from the forest.
“Finally, you’re awake, my love.”
Your blood freezes as a shadow slowly strides out of the forest, unveiling their identity; dressed in a black off-shoulder gown with a crown on her head, her dark hair flowing in the light breeze.
“R-Rio?!” you gasp out.
Hearing this, her smile grows.
“Ah, my little bird….how I love hearing you say my name.”
She glides closer until she’s hovering above you, like a hawk hovering over its prey.
“What’s going on?” you choke out.
She doesn’t answer, instead slowly kneeling down in front of you.
“What’s going on?” she repeats before shrugging. “Nothing much, just…..claiming what’s mine.”
The drop on her volume at the end sends chills through you.
“Wh…what are you talking about?” you gasp out.
Rio coos in response. “Oh darling….don’t tell me you’re really this clueless.” Reaching out, she slowly tucks a bit of hair behind your ear. “It’s so obvious; you and I are meant to be together.”
Upon hearing this, you have to do a double-take. No….there’s no way you heard that right; Rio’s your best friend, the first one you told about your partner’s proposal, the one you told all your secrets to. Of course you know she’s Death, that she’s the original Green Witch, but you never considered her as anything more than your best friend.
“Rio, don’t talk nonsense,” you chuckle nervously, praying that this is just a joke, just a terrifying joke.
“….Who said it’s nonsense?” Her face betrays no sign of deception, that just makes you feel even more horrified. “What’s nonsense is believing that you’re not meant to be mine, by my side for all eternity.”
“Okay, that’s enough, Rio,” you pant. “Just…..cut the bullshit and let me go.”
Hearing this, her eyes harden.
“Let you go?” Her tone drops as she leans in close, her face only a few inches from yours. “Do you think I’d be insane enough to do that? When I have what I want here and now? Don’t make me laugh. Besides I’ve waited long enough for this moment, and when things arose, I decided to take matters into my own hands.”
Once again, you try to stand up, but within a millisecond, you’re back on the ground.
“Don’t even bother, it’s cosmic-grade magic,” she huffs. “I can’t have you running off; besides, you wouldn’t even know the way out.”
A lump forms in your throat as you remember just how powerful Rio actually in.
“Why are you here?”
She doesn’t answer for a hot second. “Well….it’s pretty simple; I want to ensure this destiny is fulfilled, and one way to do that is soul-binding.”
“Soul….binding?” you gasp out.
“Soul-binding,” she repeats. “A ritual that connects the souls of two people to the point where the mere thought of being separate from them gives one a sense of absolute dread. It is a bond that nothing is able to sever.”
Gently she cups your cheek, brushing her thumb against it in a slow circular motion.
“Once the ritual is performed, our souls will become one. We’ll sense each other’s thoughts…feelings…desires…we’ll develop a deep desire to be with each other, a desire that will grow into a compulsion. We’ll sense each other’s wants and needs, we’ll be able to communicate telepathically, among many, many benefits; best of all…”
She slowly cups both sides of your face with one hand.
“….Our life forces will be connected,” she whispers.
Your blood goes beyond frozen; Rio, being Death herself, cannot die. If you become connected to her…..
“Rio, you’re insane!”
She just grins and nods.
“Insanely in love, in particular.”
“This isn’t love, it’s obsession!”
Rio merely chuckles. “I see them as one and the same. Anyway, let’s not waste anymore time. Our souls will soon be one.”
You’re in the biggest panic of your life.
“Rio, you can’t do this; you know about the proposal!”
Upon hearing this, Rio gives a bitter chuckle. “Of course I know…..why do you think I’m doing this now? They don’t deserve you. They’re not your destiny; I am.”
“But…..they’re gonna wonder where I am!” you stammer.
She sighs. “Oh, my love…..you’re truly so naive. Did you think I wouldn’t be prepared for that? I’ve already taken care of the problem.”
All of your trembling that you’re trying to hide freezes at that moment. “….what did you do to them?” you gasp.
“Nothing to worry your pretty little head about, my little bird,” she says. “Enough diversions; it’s time to bind.”
In an attempt to avoid the ritual, you turn away, but Rio grabs your head and yanks it back to face her.
“There’s no use fighting it, my love,” she purrs. “This is what’s meant to be.”
“If you do this to me, I’ll hate you forever!” you snap.
However Rio just laughs. “Oh, I beg to differ, my love. Once the ritual is complete, you’ll be so enamored that you’ll only look at me with these pretty eyes of yours. I guarantee it.
Keeping her hands on both sides of your face, she leans forward and locks her lips onto yours. You try to pull away, but Rio’s grip on you is too strong. Her lips give off the taste of mint, one that’s almost….alluring….
You begin to feel your mind fog up and your muscles begin to loosen. But you know you need to get away…..right? The mint taste and scent is beginning to overtake you; at the same time, you feel a strange sensation enter your body, which brings back your alertness slightly. You sense yourself torn between the need to break out and the desire to succumb. However the more you’re exposed to this delicate but intoxicating aroma, the more you lean towards the latter. The strange sensation strengthens, but it’s strange in a euphoric way. Even as that little voice in the back of your mind tries to bring you back, the euphoria and mint both nearly have you. The voice is slowly fading away….until all there is is the euphoria and mint.
You reach up and grab Rio’s face, burying yourself deeper into the kiss. A deep primal desire awakens in you, a desire to be closer than humanly possible; and the more you two kiss, the stronger the euphoria becomes until it’s one of the only things on your mind.
After some time, Rio slowly pulls her lips away from you before giving a chuckle. The two of you lock eyes and you feel as though everything else has faded. As far as you’re concerned, nothing exists but your beloved Rio….
“There…. Nothing can separate us now,” she whispers.
Reaching over, she places her hand just above your chest, the touch making you feel…whole.
“You can feel it too, can’t you?” she chuckles. “Our souls are now one, bound together eternally.”
You focus, and sure enough, you feel as though your souls have practically merged into one, and you love it. It just feels…..right. Seeing this, Rio releases the bind on your ankle and brings you in close. Her warmth immediately puts you at peace as your head settles on her chest.
As you settle in, Rio whispers in your ear, her warmth breath caressing your ear. “You’re safe with me, my love. I’ll protect you, cherish you, treasure you as the precious gem you are. You will want for nothing. All you have to do is stay with me….can you do that for me?”
Without hesitating you nod, an enamored smile forming on your face, and Rio chuckles.
“That’s it. You’ll stay with me like the good girl you are. You don’t need anyone else. I am all you need…..”
As her warmth encompasses you, you feel your eyes begin to flutter shut, the echoing sounds of the waterfall, along with the rise and fall of Rio’s chest, lulling you into a peaceful slumber. Nothing can make this more perfect for you. You know you’re exactly where you need to be, where you want to be. You simply can’t imagine being anywhere else, except with your beloved Rio. And just before you drift off, you hear her whisper into your ear.
“I am your destiny….”
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Do you think Buddietommy has any habits that drive each other crazy?
In my head, Eddie and Tommy have forbid Buck from baking past 9pm. Because otherwise, he will be running that KitchenAid mixer in the middle of the night and he insists that "it's not even that loud" but it almost always wakes the entire household up.
So it’s so funny you bring that up because as a baker - this is a valid fear.
Back when I had time to bake as regularly as I wish I could now I’d legit be up baking late into the night and back when I lived in a basement apartment where you could hear EVERYTHING the upstairs tenants would get pretty pissed with me (especially when I’d make mini cheesecakes and would tap out the air bubbles) 😬
Anywayyy yes, they definitely have habits the drive each other bonkers and I can absolutely see that being one of Buck’s.
For Eddie, I like to think that since finding his joy he dances a lot more though this isn’t a habit that annoys Buck or Tommy, I think it annoys Christopher. He’s a teenager and is at the age where he’s probably embarrassed by everything Eddie does, it’s practically a rite of passage. I’m imagining Eddie dancing around the kitchen and Christopher walking in with a friend and just being mortified.
Tommy and Buck would love his dancing though and probably join in (however terribly) much to Christopher’s horror.
Habits that annoy Tommy and Buck though 🤔
I think Buck is a clean freak and Eddie doesn’t really strike me as one. I don’t think he’s a slob by any means but I do think he’s more comfortable with a little bit of clutter in a way that Buck isn’t (have you seen his loft??). Eddie probably occasionally leaves some dirty clothes lying on the ground (usually next to the hamper because he likes to ball up his dirty clothes and throw them like a basketball and sometimes he misses). He may even be the kind of person who leaves the cap off the toothpaste when he’s done with it (I think out of all of these this would be the one that drives Tommy nuts).
He’s probably also someone that doesn’t immediately do his dishes - he doesn’t let them pile up, but he’s fine with letting them sit in the sink through the day and then doing them all before he turns in for the night.
Buck is the opposite, he cleans up his messes immediately and often ends up doing Eddie’s breakfast dishes because he hates leaving them until the evening (this probably drives Eddie nuts because he definitely would’ve done them later). I’m not 100% sure where Tommy would fall on this but I don’t think he’d be all that annoyed by it but he is silently amused by a perturbed Buck.
Annoying habits of Tommy’s? I think his most frustrating one for both Buck and Eddie is that he tends to turn inward whenever he feels frustrated or insecure. Buck is a talk it out kind of guy, and Eddie, well, he’s getting there (hello therapy and hot priest) but he also sees both sides of it. He was that guy who kept everything inside so he understand it, but it also means he knows how bad it is for the individual so when he sees Tommy get in that headspace he takes steps to draw him out.
Aside from that, with Tommy’s hobby of tinkering with old cars comes a lot of motor oil stains and I think Eddie and Buck both flip back and forth between finding it sexy and frustrating 😉. Sexy in the moment - Tommy, arms bulging in his white tank top with black smudges down the front etc etc. but frustrating when those stains end up on their walls because Buck and/or Eddie couldn’t wait until after he’s had a shower to jump him and his hands (which are still covered in motor oil) end up braced against a wall.
For Buck, I think another annoying habit of his would also be one that they find super endearing which is his research dives. Adorable as they are, they are less so at 2am when they’re trying to sleep haha.
Anyway, thank you for the ask! Love thinking about them being all annoyingly domestic! Decided to add Christopher in there as a bonus 🥰
#buddietommy#fox answers#i have a friend who’s husband is a mechanic and i’ve heard her talk about stains on their walls from him#so i’m going with that for tommy#evan buckley#eddie diaz#tommy kinard#christopher diaz#headcanon
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I’m outing myself as someone who reads incredibly terrible erotic romance novels here, but my hot take is that omegaverse was initially invented by het romance/porn writers, because there is a best-selling erotic romance series by an author named Lora Leigh that’s literally classic omegaverse in everything but name, and she started publishing it through now defunct epublisher Ellora’s Cave back in 2003. It’s got the knotting, the mating bites on the neck, the “tortuous suffering unless my alpha fucks me” heat, the scent kink, the grr snarl possessive alphas who literally growl at people, a mega fuckton of breeding kink, alphas with a biological need to have their omegas submit to them, etc. (and also a truly tiresome amount of het anal in the earlier half of the series.)
In Leigh’s books, there is a race of genetically engineered animal-human hybrids called “the Breeds” who were bred to be perfect supersoldier weapons. Breeds have two sexes, Alphas males, who have heightened animalistic senses of smell and are all super dominant and manly and badass and possessive and have dicks that secret special lubricating pre-come and knot like a dog’s/wolf’s during sex (the lion and tiger Breeds have something that’s called a “barb” but it’s actually a modified knot), and Omegas females, who have the same senses but are delicate and beautiful and fragile looking because they were designed to be seductive, and are always just slightly less badass than the men because of the author’s gender essentialism. Betas regular human woman who fall in love with and have sex with a male Breed get infused with a “mating hormone” from glands underneath his tongue and transform into omegas Breed mates who react to matings the same way a female breed would due to the hormone altering their dna.
Breeds each have a destined genetic mate, and when they get together both the alpha male and omega female go into something called “mating heat” that causes them to be non-stop horny for sex with each other and desperate for each other’s touch. Mating heat is initiated by kissing, when special mating glands under the alpha’s or omega’s Breed’s tongue produce a delicious-tasting mating hormone (it tastes different in each alpha/omega breed, my nomination for stupidest is either the guy who tasted like chocolate or the girl who tasted like summer rain with a hint of spiced pears) that makes the omega addicted to his kiss. Omegas females in mating heat find the touch of any man who isn’t their alpha mate physically painful and mated alphas males in mating heat can only get it up for their mates. They also only knot when having sex with their mate. Also jerking off or using a vibrator makes the heat worse because only your mate’s knot/omegussy can ease the arousal.
Mating heat involves the male breed giving his mate a mating bite on the neck that leaves a permanent unhealed mark, changes both their scents so that all other Breeds can smell that they’re mated, and (interesting twist that doesn’t usually show up in fandom omegaverse) also halts the aging process. Only Breeds in mating heat can sire or conceive children - outside of heat they are sterile.
There is so much gender essentialism and breeding kink and “oooh, his giant alpha knot can fill her omega pussy just right” sex scenes (and also cringeworthy racism in the form of romanticised native american characters whose culture the author clearly did absolutely zero research on) and omegas female mates who try to refuse being mated because they value their independence and don’t want an alpha to control them (biology always wins in the end, of course) and characters trying to hide their status with scent blockers and secret “recessed” Breeds who think they’re betas-I-mean-human until adulthood when they meet the destined mate who awakens their true inner nature and instincts and a special set of laws that apply just to alphas and omegas Breeds and their mates, and basically every key omegaverse trope except the mpreg and intersex stuff. All in books published at least half a decade before A/B/O was even a twinkle in the spn kinkmeme’s eye.
Until and unless people from the 2010s SPN kink meme come and tell me otherwise, I’m going to believe there’s a connection.
Tbh I don't really think people crying about hets "stealing" omegaverse as an idea have any real leg to stand on considering how much of omegaverse is "stealing" tropes from the hets lol
Like people joke about how omegaverse is just a way to get your fav male character to experience misogyny for a reason, a lot of omegaverse is just a thinly veiled excuse to have your gay ships go through typical "het" storylines like pregnancy and gendered power dynamics
Don't get me wrong, I like omegaverse and fully understand why some people would prefer the layer of abstraction from reality it offers to explore those concepts, and I do understand feeling miffed when someone you consider part of a priviledged groups uses tropes built by the unprivileged, but I think it's tremendously stupid to cry about stolen tropes when the argument could be made that omegaverse is made up of tropes stolen from the hets to begin with 🤷
Not to mention that ideas are going to propogate and you don't really have the right or ability to control who it reaches lol
--
Omegaverse started from someone wanting to see a guy with a dog dick make some other dude his bitch.
It's a stack of porn tropes in a trench coat, regardless of what gendered stuff is in there.
#omegaverse#lora leigh#seriously this woman was writing het omegaverse a decade before it was cool#I make fun of these stupid sexist books but I’ve also read all 33 of them so at the end of the day I’m the one wearing the clown nose
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Danny’s parents want to kill him and he’s like “f in the chat y’all dinner boutta be so awkward tonight smh”
Ok so I know everyone loves the angsty headcannons where Danny is terrified of his parents cuz they wanna kill him but we’ve had that hot take since 2005 I’m here for a source material revival, the much more entertaining “Danny’s parents want to kill him and he actively doesn’t give a fuck”
CUZ UH, IM REWATCHING THE FIRST SEASON AND I FORGOT HOW GENUINELY BLASÉ HE IS ABOUT MADDIE AND JACK TRYING TO GET HIS ASS ITS SO FUNNY.
Like mom holding a literal ghost gun to his head: eh kinda unphased he even has time to quip, his parents say they wanna tear em to pieces: meh see u guys at dinner, LIKE OUR GUY IS SO UNPHASED HE THINKS THIS SHIT IS FUNNY! (s1 ep. 14 public enemy)
And he’s unphased despite knowing his parents tech works and knowing that his mother is actually a good shot. So like I love angst Danny and y’all should keep up the good work but where is my s1 Danny ‘COULDN’T give less of a fuck about his parents’ Fenton representation?
Cuz think of this, for your DPXDC AU consideration, Danny would fit in so well with the bat gang if only because they could try to stab, shoot, capture, brainwash, and stalk him and he’d be like “oh cool villain of the week shit? Nice, what’re we having for lunch.” He. Wouldn’t. Flinch.
#I’m not saying y’all are writing Danny as pusillanimous#except that I am#give my son his groove back this kid is litterally more afraid of a box ghost then his parents#he’s not a scaredy cat and I feel like rn everyone writes him as one#save the wet cat treatment for Tim y’all let Danny be a funny lil guy again#like he grew up in doofenshmirtz lab he isn’t crying over death threats babes#THIS ISN’T A HOT TAKE SO DON’T TRY TO COME FOR ME#THIS IS ME READING FROM THE DP BIBLE VERBATIM#S1 PRIVELAGES REINSTATED#GET GHOSTED#anyway#like I said I’m rewatching s1#and I forgot how freaking fun it was#not all modern DP is angsty mind you and I’m also not here to say it’s wrong or bad#I’m here to say let’s get that biodiversity back baby#Danny Phantom#dp x dc#a cold take just the coldest
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Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) - C.K.
Synopsis. When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.
Pairings. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babysitter! Choso, male masturbation, voyeurism (from reader), Choso with nipple piercings and eyeliner hngh, unprotected, 69, choking, overstim, oral (male + female receiving), creampie, dirty talk, friends-to-lovers, Choso is down BAD and always has been, mentioned younger brother, swearing.
Word count. 9.0k
A/N. Gojo longfic next time because I miss my pretty blue-eyed princess.
Your younger brother’s new babysitter was hot.
With a capital h.
Scarily hot, in fact, that it made you wonder why the hell people stopped having babysitters past the age of 14.
Ah, Choso Kamo, the ever-elusive eldest son of the Itadori’s from next door. You still remember the first time you met him - well, mostly.
The world was rocking gently at exactly 12:34AM after a night out with your old high school friends. And so were you, stumbling tipsily into your driveway, soaking up the warm summer air.
Fumbling with the doorbell, you fully expected your parents to still be away on that extravagant couples’ cruise they’d won - one that probably cost more than your tuition.
Which also meant you expected the old lady from down the street to be babysitting tonight. Still wide awake and absolutely bursting at the seams to give you a detailed rundown about the neighborhood tea - who’s divorcing who, and her top suspects for who stole her prized garden gnome.
What you certainly did not expect was for that door to swing open and to find yourself face-to-face with the most ridiculously attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Shirtless.
Dazed, your eyes involuntarily sweep his figure from head to toe - taking in every inch of those dark, sleep-mussed locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner, all the way down to the chiseled- oh god, were those nipple piercings?
Alas, the universe isn’t on your side, and you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly the door slams right in your face, almost rattling off its hinges at the force. The sound echoes in your ears as you blink in disbelief at what the fuck that was. Was that real - was he real?
You double check the address you’ve known for years - just in case - because, hell, if you were dreaming then this was a damn good one. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on something that won’t make your head spin before reaching for the door again.
But before your finger could even graze the doorbell, it cracks open once more. The same mysterious man towered before you, this time - you note, with a tinge of disappointment - wearing a snug t-shirt that still doesn’t do much to hide that godly physique.
“Not that m’complaining, but who’re you and why’re ya in my house?” you manage to slur out, voice betraying the shiver that runs down your spine at his intense gaze. He simply leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and expression unreadable.
“Choso,” he drawls lightly, eyes never leaving your face. Shit, even his voice was hot.
You nod slowly, mind racing as you blearily try to remember just where you’d heard that name before. Some family friend? Nah, you’d know him if that was the case. An actor? God, he sure had the looks.
Mercifully sensing your struggle, he clears his throat, snapping you out of your drunken reverie. “Not surprised you haven’t seen me around, sweetheart, but my parents live next door.” he offers, tone laced with amusement and something else you can’t place. “M’babysitting your brother for tonight.”
You almost don’t hear the second part of his explanation, because it hits you like a ton of bricks - oh shit, this was Choso? Choso either-a-hallucination-or-a-vampire Kamo?
In all your years of having the Itadoris as your neighbors, you’d only seen fleeting glimpses of their eldest son - a flash of black hair at the window, or a sculpted, tattooed arm waving off Yuji at the doorway. And, well, you didn’t know what exactly you’d anticipated. You just didn’t expect him to be so…hot. Or stand half-naked in front of you.
God, he made you more dizzy than the alcohol.
“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than anything. Yet Choso still hears, quirking an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Everything alright there?” he hums, the hint of a tease in his tone. Smug bastard.
You nod your head, clutching onto the doorframe for support as you lean in closer. “Mhm, perfect.” Wait- was that a blush dusting his face? Damn, this dream just keeps getting better and better.
Liquid courage coursing through you, you bat your lashes, too tipsy to even attempt a wink, “Well, Choso, let me know if ya need any help babysitting, jus’ know I’m always down to-”
And then - perhaps to save you from the embarrassment of an awful pickup line - that’s when the universe decides to remind you of exactly how many kamikaze shots you’ve downed. The world lurches beneath you. Your hands scramble for something - anything - solid.
Ah, falling down really does feel good, especially when the ground is so warm, and soft. Smelling faintly of vanilla, with a hint of sunshine.
And then it’s all black.
To match his eyes.
---
The smell of vanilla still lingers in your mind as you slowly pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning sunlight streaming in through your window. Groaning, you feel as though you’ve been run over by a truck. Five of them, in fact.
Trying to will away the pounding headache, you bury yourself deeper into the snug covers of…your bed…that you’ve been tucked into?
Oh shit. Sitting up with a gasp, you hastily try to rub away the sleep from your pointedly makeup-less eyes, remnants of last night now flooding back to you with a surge of embarrassment.
Choso. Shirtless. Babysitting. Shirtless. But most importantly - your awful display of drunken flirting. The man appears once in a blue moon and you hit on him? Perfect. Great. Wonderful.
And just as you’re entertaining the idea of convincing your parents to move neighborhoods, you realize with a jolt that he must’ve been the one that carried you up here and took care of you. Even after all of that.
With a sigh, you rub your temples, wincing as it throbs at the laughter carrying from downstairs - one of them so decidedly Choso. Deep voice ringing in your ears, you can almost feel the lingering traces of his strong arms holding you flush against his chest, or the warm hands gently wiping off your eye shadow.
And it seems Choso had a penchant for interrupting your barely-lucid thoughts, because the door creaks open, ripping through the heavy silence in your room. Heart in your throat, you startle as Choso carefully steps into your room, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“G’morning,” he says, voice so gentle that some small, strange part of you thinks you could listen to it forever. “Feeling any better?”
You offer him a sheepish grin, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at the memory of your drunken antics. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for... well, everything.”
Chuckling softly, his gaze softens as he steps closer, taking in your slightly-disheveled appearance. “It was the least I could do, sweetheart. Now, c’mon, your brother and I are making pancakes.”
You fidget nervously under his gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious even as he turns to leave the room at your silence. Say it, you idiot. Say it.
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t mean to... y’know, act like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time-”
“It’s al-”
“I swear I’ve seen ankles-”
A large hand cradling your cheek, his thick rings searingly cold against your chin as he tilts your chin up to meet his warm gaze - and those suspiciously red cheeks. “S’alright, sweetheart. I didn’t mind.”
And, well, if this was his way of shutting you up then by God was it effective. Because you didn’t trust yourself to speak even as Choso gives you an easy smile. Even as he withdraws his hand, the air thick with something you were too hungover to overthink about.
Not until he turns back to the door, flashing you a teasing smile, “Besides, it was kinda cute.”
And with that, Choso steps through the door with the audacity of someone that hadn’t uttered words that sent your mind reeling.
As the creak of the door echoes behind him, Choso’s warm touch still sears into your skin. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Only one thought rings clear in your hazy, still-hungover mind - one that makes your cheeks flare: this was going to be a very interesting summer.
You just didn’t realize how interesting it would be. Not until two weeks, four days, and sixteen hours after you first met Choso.
It starts out innocently enough, taking the early shift at your internship, volunteering to help with the chores - you find yourself subconsciously making excuses to be around him whenever he’s scheduled to babysit.
You’ve probably learned everything there is to know about the man by now - from the way he likes his eggs (sunny side up) to that time he accidentally dyed his brother’s hair neon pink while trying out a recipe for homemade hair dye.
Likewise, Choso happens to be the only one who knows that you were the one that accidentally caused that flood in your dorm that required five floors and two plumbers to resolve.
At this point, Choso’s at your house more often than not - where Choso is, there is you, and where you are, there is Choso. And your brother…and sometimes Yuji, but semantics.
“Semantics” are probably why you find yourself rushing home straight from your internship, ignoring every invitation for an after-work drink - to see your brother, of course. No other reason - definitely not because of the way Choso will inevitably be there too. Or because of the way his smile makes something strange coil in your stomach. Or-
Okay, maybe you speedwalked up your driveway faster than usual a little bit because of Choso. But as you’ve said - semantics.
Yet, sometimes you even think there’s a familiar flicker of something more in those dark eyes.
…
Nahhh.
Stepping into the yard, the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the deafening sounds of splashing, a smile tugs at your lips at the awfully wholesome view that greets you.
Your brother and Yuji are locked in a fierce battle, water guns being brandished like the most seasoned warriors.
And Choso - towering over everyone else - was at the epicenter of the chaos, his laughter booming over the commotion. Shirtless. Again.
His bare, tattooed torso gleams in the light, muscles flexing with each movement as if sculpted by the gods themselves. Droplets of water glistening on his dark hair like diamonds in the fading light.
Traitorously, your cheeks burn as you step closer, desperately trying to rip your gaze from the milky abs peeking out and the tantalizing glint of metal winking so sinfully at you under the sun.
So he does have nipple piercings.
God, you have to get your mind out of the gutter.
As you approach, Choso’s grin widens, a playful sparkle dancing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he scoops up a large water balloon and takes aim, launching it with frightening accuracy in your direction.
The icy water hits you before the realization, and you squeal in surprise as the balloon connects right with your chest, seeping into your shirt. Glancing down with a startled laugh, you realize a moment too late that your once-pristine white shirt is now completely see-through.
Heat rushes to your cheeks, but the damage has been done. Smug bastard, you think, glancing up at Choso, slightly red-faced yet wearing a sly grin as he surveys the aftermath of his well-aimed shot.
“Shoulda just told me if you wanted a peak, you lecher. This shirt was expensive, y’know.” you call out, mock-glaring at the man that stood so infuriatingly beautifully in front of you.
Choso throws his head back in a laugh that makes something tingle all the way down from your toes to your burning cheeks. “Maybe you shoulda just kept your guard up, sweetheart,”
You scoff, “Maybe you should stop being a distraction then.”
His grin widens, reaching for another nearby water balloon, “S’not my fault you’re so easily distracted. No need to be a sore loser.”
“Oh, it’s on now.”
“Well, well, looks like we have a new contender in the water war,” Choso remarks mischievously to the kids, gesturing towards you. Yeah, really smug bastard.
Ah, what the hell. This shirt was on sale anyway.
---
Now, Choso knows you’re hot - always has.
Ever since that first day he moved in next door, when he stumbled upon you sunbathing in your backyard wearing that sinful bikini. And, well, after hours of moving boxes upon boxes of Yuji’s dumbbells, the mere sight of you was like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him.
But, especially now - all drenched and disheveled. Your shirt sticking to your curves like a second skin in all the ways that should be illegal - and also makes some strange part of him slightly jealous. Beaming smile directed right at him - shit, this might as well just be the final nail on his coffin. Death by you.
Amidst the chaos and confusion, you're a force to be reckoned with. Choso can barely tear his eyes off of you, breathless and victorious in pure adrenaline-fueled bravado, declaring “Beg for mercy and I’ll let you off easy, Choso.”
“Kinky, but absolutely not, sweetheart.”
Clutching a particularly large water balloon, raising your hand high high high - hurtling it straight at him with an unapologetic smirk, “Then, better run for your life.”
Oh? Maybe Choso was a masochi- what was that-
A flash of his favorite lacy pink, your poor buttons faltering at the sheer force of your throw. Choso doesn’t even feel the cold splash! square on his chest as he’s drenched icily from head to toe. Too transfixed.
Too focused on trying not to make it obvious he’s mentally calculating the chances of your shirt coming off altogether…
Eyes locked on the sliver of soft skin peeking out at him. Only registering you and the traitorous rush of heat flooding his cheeks - and his cock - as he averts his gaze, internally smacking himself for letting his thoughts wander into such dangerous territory.
Both thanking and cursing the gods above, Choso realizes with a pang that he’s not just screwed, he’s absolutely twisted, tangled, and tied up in knots.
So utterly screwed, in fact, that he probably needs to make a quick run to the bathroom now.
Like, right now.
Shit.
With a muttered excuse of a bathroom break, each step more urgent than the last, Choso can’t help but wonder if the water balloon incident was some sort of cosmic punishment for his wandering thoughts. Some divine intervention from his ancestors for being such a pussy around you all these years.
And as he slams that bathroom door closed, bunches his pants bunched underneath his heavy balls, and takes his throbbing cock in his hands, Choso thinks he might just see the gates of heaven - well, at least he’ll be able to give his ancestors a piece of his mind there.
With a groan, he leans against the closed door, eyes scrunching shut as he takes his swollen cock in his fist. Leaking hot precum and glistening in the dim bathroom light. He grips the base tightly, pulsing and achingly hard for you.
Cold rings searing against his skin, Choso wastes no time - wanting to get this over with and join you again more than anything - starting up a hasty, desperate pace up and down his length that makes his knees buckle. Tighter on the base, just teasing his furiously flushed tip. Pink. Pink to match your bra.
With you so sinfully soaked through, wearing that goddamn lacy bra out there, Choso wasn’t as strong a man to possibly get you out of his mind. He can’t help but imagine your sultry smile, how it would look wrapped around his cock.
Arm straining now, a shiver runs down his spine - all the way to his throbbing erection. “Shit.” he breathes, “J-jus’ like that, sweetheart.”
Head only filled with you, and your lips and you-
He milks his base tighter - would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around his cock?
One hand pulls in urgent, jerky little moves that have his hips bucking into his fist. The other reaches up muffle the fucked out moans leaving his swollen lips. God, it would take everything it had in him to not fuck up into your pretty lil’ mouth. Watch you cock-drunk and taking him so well.
Or maybe…
Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. Delicate beads of precum dripping onto the cold tile with a deafening drip! drip! drip! Smearing at the way he rubs maddening little circles under that one spot, grazing his sensitive veins.
Maybe you’d be a a fucking tease - run your tongue under his pulsing head so agonizingly slow. Knowing you, you’d probably pull away as soon as he bucks his hips into your mouth. Lips swollen and glossed prettily with his precum as you whisper, “Now now, baby. If you don’t act like a good boy then you won’t get to cum~”
“Sh-shit, hah-” Choso thinks he’s going insane, he can practically hear your hums as you kiss along his length, tongue darting out to trace his throbbing veins so obscenely. Flicking at his sensitive head. Eyes sparkling - ready to positively devour him.
All for him.
It’s too much.
“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he moans hoarsely, letting out a low, fucked-out little call of your name. “More. Need m-more, sweetheart.”
Body shuddering violently, sweat dripping from his brow, Choso’s thighs quiver as he fucks his fist at an almost-animalistic pace. Chasing his release with reckless abandon.
Choso’s heart pounds wildly in his chest as he tries - and fails - to maintain control. Raspy whines of your name escape through the crevices of his fingers, cracking ever-so-slightly in a way he knows he’d be embarrassed about if he was in a better state of mind.
Giving up his futile attempt, long fingers snake down below to cradle his balls in a way he knows you’d do better. Tugging and pulling at a jerky rhythm that matches his hand.
Some tiny, practical part of his brain hopes - prays - that you won’t call off the water fight early and come up to check on him. He knows he should hurry up, he knows he’s fucked if you ever found out. Shit, he should bake you apology cookies tomorrow.
But fuck are so you perfect for him. Voice so pretty and eyes so warm as you turn your gaze to his undeserving self. He’d kill to see if you still look at him that way when - if - he absolutely ruins you.
Would you be able to take all of him? Would you pout adorably until he shoves his dick down your throat? Gagging as he hits the back of your throat over and over - oh how Choso would love to mess up your mascara. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on his dick if he could.
“Cum f’me, baby.” you’d mewl, and shit would he burn down this entire world to hear you call him that. “Mm, fill me up with your cum, wan’ taste you, baby-”
“Fuck,” he curses again, voice thick with need, and tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, sweetheart.”
You - all see-through white shirts and lacy bras that drive him wild. Giggling with the audacity of someone who isn’t making him slowly lose his sanity. You with prettily lips painted white with his seed. Cum and saliva mixing into a lewd pool on the sterile tile as you suck the soul out of him.
You.
And then he’s cumming.
A raw, drawled-out keen of your name and he’s spilling into his fist. Thick, hot spurts of cum that paint his palms white in a way he wishes he could do to you. And behind his closed eyes all he sees is you - you you you-
You, dragging out his orgasm so torturously, lips decorated with his seed, dribbling down to your lacy pink bra, gushing so lewdly down your ready throat. You with your eyes dazed, lips swollen and quirking up into a fucked-out smile as he does so well for you - cumming, all for you.
You, with your wide eyes and disgust on your face as you realize just what he’d been doing on this suspiciously long “bathroom break”.
Shit.
Body still twitching with the shockwaves of probably one of the Top 5 orgasms of his life, Choso all but collapses against the bathroom door, panting heavily, utterly spent. For a moment, he lies there, wondering if this is what heaven truly felt like.
But as the euphoria of his high ebbs away into nothing but mere tingles, a slight wave of nausea crashes over him.
Sighing, Choso reaches for the paper towels, ready to clean up his mess. If only you were there to milk him dry then he wouldn’t have to-
…
God, he was definitely baking you apology cookies tomorrow.
Now, when it started drizzling shortly after Choso left, you took it upon yourself to usher the kids back home and hand over his t-shirt personally like the good samaritan you are - out of the goodness of your heart, of course.
Not for any reason whatsoever because you were hoping to get at least one more glimpse of those sinful nipple piercings up-close.
…
Okay, perhaps there was a slight ulterior motive involved.
Either way, what you’d expected was for a flash of silver as you handed over his drenched t-shirt. Or maybe that familiar easy smile to warm you up from the icy water.
Literally anything but to find yourself frozen outside the bathroom door, cunt dripping, and ears ringing with the muffled echoes of his pornographic groans.
At first, completely mortified, your fight or flight instinct had kicked in as you realized just what those rhythmic, fucked-out little grunts meant. Only for you to choose neither option - staying rooted to your spot with the utterance of one, simple, word - your name.
Confusion whirls in your mind almost as much as the throbbing in your cunt, knees weakening. Heart thumping louder and louder in your ears at each whine of your name. Shivers running down your spine - all the way to your wet cunt as it really sets in that this was Choso. And he was fucking his fist in your bathroom. To you.
And you didn’t mind?
In fact, you find yourself leaning against the door, thighs squeezing together - mere inches away from where you imagined him slumped against it. Soft strands sticking to his forehead, cock hot and heavy, aching for release. Ragged breathing as if caught off guard by the intensity of his own pleasure. Broken whispers of your name leaving him over and over-
Really, you know you should give him your privacy. But if the white-hot ropes of pleasure running up your spine are anything to go by then, well, is it really that bad?
You have half the mind to just reach down down down - just a little release. Almost jealous of Choso-
Click!
You’re sure you could rival Usain Bolt with the way you ran down those stairs. Cheeks flaring, his damp t-shirt still clutched tightly in your hand. Mind racing with only one thought - this little fuck wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.
---
You can barely remember what transpired after your little discovery. You couldn’t decide who looked more dazed - you or Yuji, who was being practically dragged out that front door as Choso exited hastily with vague mentions of baking and cookies
And in the ringing silence that followed after that front door slammed, you couldn’t help the smirk that found itself onto your face. This was going to be fun.
But if there’s anything you’ve learned about Choso - it’s that even after twenty-something years on planet Earth, that man can not take a hint.
You somewhat had an inkling after the fifth time you decided to sunbathe in just a skimpy bikini at exactly when you knew he’d be watching. Well, you might not have gotten any reaction other than an extremely flushed face at the window, but at least you knew he’d have more very fun bathroom breaks.
Hell, one time you even bought ice lollies for the whole house - but especially Choso. Making sure those dark eyes followed every lick and trail of it dripping down your fingers under the scorching summer sun. Ultimately resulting in nothing more but a heavy gulp and for his ice lolly to hit the grass faster than it could even begin to melt.
Ugh, should you get your brother to start another water fight? That went down well last time.
It’s only after another failed attempt at trying to get him alone and a few hours of deliberating whether you should ship your interrupting brother off on a cruise too that you realize you have to get out the big guns.
“The big guns” being stealthily organizing a sleepover for your brother at the Itadoris, then inviting Choso over for a movie night. Simple, right? And, well, if anyone asked, you could just say the movie just so happened to be rated R.
It wasn’t too hard to convince your brother that a sleepover with Yuji would be the best thing since sliced bread. The excitement in his voice palpable as he agreed, not suspecting a thing.
You just didn’t think it would be even easier to convince Choso to come over with a simple playful text of “Netflix no chill. Haha jk…unless?” But then again, when has Choso not surprised you?
And that night, as your brother eagerly headed off to Yuji’s place, you couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt - but, hey, it was for a good cause, right?
It’s a win-win either way - your brother gets to spend the night with a friend and you get to be here, so achingly close to Choso on that couch. So close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him, stealing glances at his sharp profile as the conversation flows easily about the movie playing on screen.
Shifting ever-so-slightly closer, electricity crackling between you two was palpable. You smile in anticipation, after all - you weren’t lying about the movie being rated R.
Now, Choso certainly didn’t come over to your house tonight expecting a wholesome rerun of Cars 2. However, he also wasn’t expecting the blockbuster action movie to suddenly unfold into something so steamy.
Goddamn lecherous directors and their goddamn pervy movies.
Eyes firmly trained on the ground, instead of the actress currently fake-moaning dramatically onscreen, Choso tries to ignore the subtle shift of your hips or the way the temperature in the room has currently increased by about 10 degrees. Or the way your moans would sound a million times prettier in his ears.
Alas, Choso was not a strong man, and he especially tries to will away the blood rushing straight to his cock right now - but how could he? You were such a vision of temptation, so close and warm and close to him on the couch.
This was absolute torture.
“God, this is so painfully fake. Don’t you think so?” your voice rips through the deafening silence between you two, tone careful and balanced, startling Choso out of his little reverie.
His eyes flicker hastily to meet yours, and for a moment, he seems caught off guard by your sudden interruption. “Oh, yeah.” voice rough with a hint of nervousness. “I’ve seen better performances in middle school plays.”
You nod, the tension between you thickening as you lock eyes. “I mean, who even writes this stuff?” you continue, leaning in even closer to Choso, words positively dripping in sarcasm. “It’s like they’ve never actually had sex before.”
Choso lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he shifts subtly in his seat - but not subtly enough. Because you catch the way he desperately tries to adjust his now-uncomfortably tight pants. Success.
“Yeah, exactly,” he clears his throat, ripping his gaze away from yours.
You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - exactly where you wanted him.
A sudden rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, and you lean even closer to the man. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two - you relish in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm.
“Choso, just a thought.” you hum casually, lips mere inches from his ear. “Wanna recreate the scene better?”
His breath hitches at your words, muscles rippling so deliciously beneath your touch. “Do you know what you’re saying?” he rumbles, lowly. Eyes darkened and unreadable.
You smile, heart pounding against your chest as your lips brush against his earlobe. “Absolutely.”
It was like something snapped.
Because then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him. Because goddammit you haven’t spent the last month sneaking glances at those pretty lips for nothing.
Movie completely forgotten, Choso is warm under your touch - all sculpted chest and urgent pulses as his lips kiss you dizzyingly. Groaning lowly as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.
He breathes you in with an infectious desperation that bleeds into his hands, wandering every inch of your skin - as if he didn’t have enough time. And he probably didn’t. Distantly, Choso thinks that no time in the world would be enough to absolutely fucking wreck you the way he wanted to.
Large, hurried hands grope your chest, squeezing so teasingly in a way that almost made you think he was trying to feel out what bra you were wearing - lacy pink. His favorite, of course.
You minx.
Urgently tugging the hem of your tight shirt over your arms, Choso tosses it god-knows-where. Mouth watering as he pulls away to greedily take in the heavenly view of your heaving chest - the same one he’s shamelessly fucked his fist to for too long.
God, you were perfect. With a soft, little oh! Choso leans down to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses on every bit of exposed skin he could reach. Nipping, and tugging lightly. Relishing in the way you whine for his lips again.
Threading a hand through his soft hair, you lightly pull him back to you. Breath fanning his face, lips ghosting over his own.
“Kiss me, you fool.”
And, well, Choso didn’t have to be asked twice. Molding his mouth against yours once more. Letting your lips part, you intertwine your tongue so sinfully with his. He tastes just like he looks - so intoxicatingly delicious.
With a breathy sigh, he lightly taps the curve of your ass. Hands lingering for far longer than necessary, kneading the flesh in a way that has your skin searing.
You get the signal. Urgently, you loop your legs around his waist. “Choso- bed.” you whisper, muffled in-between kisses. “Now.”
Shivers run down your spine at the way he chuckles darkly, “Honestly, sweetheart. I don’t even hah- know if we’ll make it there.” Mumbling against your lips, “Would you kill me if I take you right here right now?”
“I’ll kill you if you don’t fucking do something.” you hiss, words dripping in desperation. Ah, but Choso, ever the merciful man, shuts up whatever other retort on the tip of your tongue with his own. Kissing you with almost-bruising intensity as he gets up from his seat. Strong arms securely wrapped underneath you, holding you flush against his warm skin.
Choso doesn’t pull away even once as he hastily makes the route to your room. And honestly, with the speed at which your back hits the soft mattress, bouncing at the sheer force at which you two fell on top, you wouldn’t even be surprised if he teleported there.
Now safely in the confines of your room, you all but rip off Choso’s snug t-shirt. Those familiar obscene nipple piercings winking at you under the dim lighting in greeting.
“Always wanted to do this.” you murmur, surging forward as if on autopilot. Lips latching delicately onto the pretty pink nipples, tasting the cold metal on your tongue.
“Oh- oh, fuck. A-always knew you had a thing hah- f’my piercings, sweetheart.” Choso breathes out, letting you have your fun. His favorite bra now at the foot of your bed. Fingers deftly sneaking under your skirt, blood rushes straight to his cock as he feels the positively soaked state of your panties - if you could even call them that.
Sanity snapping, he immediately flings off your skirt. Throwing it somewhere across the room with no care or concern for where it ends up. All so he could look down at oh-
Oh god, if you had to describe Choso’s face as he takes in the sight before him - it would be absolutely losing his sanity. Your pussy dripping and clenching around nothing - all for him.
Strings of slick trail down your thighs as Choso hooks one, long finger under your slutty g-string, tugging impatiently.
You keen as the cold air hits your dripping cunt. Yet Choso’s eyes stay locked hungrily on the sticky fabric intertwined around his fingers “Guess you were expecting this, huh?” he murmurs, voice thick with desire.
Scoffing, you buck your hips up for something - anything. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you since that first night I hit on you, y’know,” you admit, the heady air of your room melting away any reservations you had previously.
And that seems to snap Choso out of his trance - eyes flickering over to you, darkened with something so carnal that it makes your cunt throb. “Oh yeah?” he mumbles, swiftly stuffing the g-string in his pocket before leaning down, hot breath hitting your ear. “Now, what was that pick-up line you were gonna say that night?”
You gasp in embarrassment, heat flooding to your cheeks at the memory. “Wha- that doesn’t matter. I was drunk and-”
Smack!
The delicious sting on your ass hits you before the realization that Choso smacked you. He smacked you. Even later do you realize that you like it - slick beading so obscenely at your sloppy hole.
“What was it, sweetheart?”
You shudder at the tone that leaves no room for argument. The words tumbling out of you as Choso caresses soothingly over the handprint on your ass. “I- it’s stupid. I was gonna say that I’m down to sit on your face, baby.”
“Thought so,” he grins, pulling away from the dizzying proximity. Shifting - well, more like manhandling - you to flip positions.
God, you could almost sink into his muscles as he lays back on your bed. Voice low and dangerous as he utters words that go straight to your dripping pussy, “Now, sit on m’face.”
And before you know it, you find yourself hastily straddling Choso’s pretty face. Hands snaking down his milky abs, lips kissing along his tattoos, catching purposefully on his sensitive nipples.
Warm breath fanning your quivering cunt, he reaches up to cup your ass, nudging your needy core to his mouth. Kneading. Groping.
Not stopping his ministrations even when your slick oozes slowly, torturously through your swollen folds and onto his awaiting tongue. A maddening drip! drip! drip! ringing in your ears above your thundering heartbeat.
Choso groans at the mouthwatering sight above him. You - spread so shamefully open for him and clenching around nothing.
“Luckily for you, sweetheart, wanted you to sit on m’face ever since I saw you.” sweet juices flowing down his throat, words muffled against your throbbing lips.
He barely even gets the words out before he’s surging forward. Licking a long, languid stripe up your heated folds. Again. And again. Faster at the pretty moans that spill from your lips.
Pushing his tongue in between your slit, past that first, tight ring of muscle. Bullying it deeper and deeper. Chin pressing against your throbbing clit, ravaged at each movement of his face.
He caresses your warm walls, relishing so filthily at the way you clamp down on him in surprise. “Hngh- oh shit, baby. Ah-”
Your sweet moans are music in his ears and shit - you called him “baby”. It’s as if every wet dream he’s ever had has come to life as Choso dips in and out at a ruthless pace. Pulling out to tease your dripping entrance, pushing past mercilessly into your plushy walls. In and out in and out in and out-
His cock strains so painfully against his pants at the way your sloppy hole sucks his tongue in so obscenely - almost as if it hurts to part. Tongue fucking you the way he wishes he could with his cock right now.
“Oh- Hah- Choso! Fuck, baby. S’good.” your body arches into his absolutely depraved tongue.
Desperate whines spilling incessantly from your mouth at the way he quirks his tongue up just right to graze that spot he knew would have you grinding down on him for more. “Ah! Right there - jus’ like that!”
As if he knew exactly how to drive you wild. Exactly how to break you. You almost don’t notice the mindless, shallow little thrusts of his hips into your open palm. Almost.
Eyes snapping open at the tremors, you reach a hand across his quivering thighs. All the way down towards the very obvious dark patch on his pants - right where his furiously hard tip was leaking thick, relentless precum that made your mouth water.
Oh, how you’d kill to taste him - see if the rest of him is as intoxicating as his mouth is.
So you do.
Choso was so pussy-drunk in-between your thighs that you think he barely notices the way you fumble with his belt. Shakily pulling those pants down just enough to glimpse the rock-hard erection that those boxers do nothing to hide.
“Shit,” you whisper, voice strained with need.
You always imagined Choso had a big cock - but this was ridiculous. Your pussy clenches in both nervousness and anticipation as you imagined the delicious stretch of him splitting you apart on it. Breaking you.
And that’s probably when Choso notices - you clamping down so filthily on his tongue.
“Oh?” he rasps, voice sending white-hot vibrations of pleasure right up your spine. “Didn’t think you were so desperate for my cock, sweetheart. Gon’ make me cum, hm?”
Now, you’ve always thought of yourself as a woman of action rather than empty words. Which is probably why you urgently pull down his boxers. Choso’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs.
You take a moment to admire the long, heavy cock in your hands - a deliciously pretty pink on top, furiously leaking glistening precum. Saliva pooling in your mouth - you shove it as far down your throat as you possibly could.
Oh, how many times in his life has Choso imagined this moment right here. In the shower, right before bed, right after waking up too. You’re really a dream come to life.
A startled, strangled moan of your name leaves Choso’s kiss-bitten lips as you take him all in one go. Only to pull back and spit once- twice on his throbbing cock. The steady stream of spit cool - followed so maddeningly by the warm heat of your mouth once more. You start up a torturous, filthy pace bobbing your head up and down on his cock.
He strains his head to catch a glimpse - even just one - of your nose pressed against his pelvis. Breathing in the heady scent at the tufts of hair at the bottom, already wet with precum and spit. His dirty girl.
Popping off with a lewd squelch, “Feels good, baby?”
“Feels perfect.”
But he wasn’t gonna fall far behind.
Immediately attaching his lips with yours once more, Choso dives nose-deep in your dripping cunt. Rolling your throbbing clit in between his lips. Flicking his tongue along the sensitive bud in a way that makes your head feel so light. He alternates between a slow, languid torture on your clit and fucking into you unforgivingly.
Your movements stutter as you teasingly lick at his sensitive slit. The salty flavor of his precum is probably your favorite taste now. That bastard.
Reaching down, you cup his heavy balls, massaging the tender flesh in harsh, hasty circles that match your mouth down his length - up and down up and down up and-
Muffled moans and lewd squelching filling the heated room. A rhythmic, sinful cadence that both of you were losing your sanity to. Movements more frantic now. Desperate to make the other cum. Desperate to be first.
Letting out soft, raw grunts, Choso fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth. Your eyes water as his tip abuses the back of your throat. And it makes you wish you could see how messy he looked right now. All smudged eyeliner and slick-glossed lips.
Gagging around him, a mixture of drool and precum drips sinfully down the corner of your mouth as you increase your pace, pooling messily on his lower abs. Sloppy - so sloppy.
So it only made sense that your orgasms were the same.
Pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming, you gush around Choso’s mouth with a stifled squeal. Stars behind your eyes, vision blurring, mind blanking - the only things you register being the languid tongue lapping up at your sweet juices and the guttural groan of what sounds like your name as Choso shoots thick, hot spurts of his cum down your throat.
Throat burning as the salty taste fills your senses, you milk his cock for more more more- his dick pulsing and stuttering in your mouth. Cum staining the fresh sheets below - a problem for later.
Right now all you were focused on was riding out your high, grinding almost animalistically on Choso’s pretty face.
You’ve barely removed yourself from him with a lewd pop! before Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress. Two fingers squishing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout, cold rings digging into your skin. The other hand snaking in between your thighs to play with your still-twitching cunt.
“Didn’t say we were done yet, sweetheart.” he mutters. You weren’t done - no, far from it. Because fuck a refractory period - both of you were going to take all you could get.
And before you can think of anything else, Choso is leaning down, hand prying your lips apart for him into a brutal kiss. Teeth clashing, lips bruising. He forces his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself before you barely get a chance to taste him as well.
“Hah- fuck-” you flinch as he swears into your bruised lips. “So fuckin’ sweet. You taste so good sweetheart.” The sheer debauchery and ache of his cock too much for him.
Tasting him. Tasting you. Both a heady flavor that leaves you yearning for more.
You bite down on his bottom lip in retaliation, relishing in the drawn-out groan that rumbles into your mouth at this. The kiss is feral. It’s animalistic. It leaves you feeling so fucking dirty.
And you barely recognise the dazed, predatory glint in Choso’s eyes as he pulls away, his mind clearly miles away as he spits once. Twice. Three times on your face.
The wads of saliva and cum hit your face with a warm, wet jolt. You whine at the way it seeps into your skin, dripping down your cheeks so fucking obscenely. Pooling at the sheets below in a way that makes you feel sorry for whoever had a shift at the laundromat tomorrow.
“Now, what do we say, sweetheart?”
A fucked-out, delirious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you realize - yeah, you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Thank you.”
Not even when Choso lets out a dark chuckle, throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders and manhandling you so that you’re splayed out so shamefully for him. Dripping cunt spread for his greedy gaze and clenching around nothing - aching for him. Begging for him.
Not even when he lines up his still-rock hard cock at your entrance, tip - angry and red - weeping so desperately as he nudges at your sloppy hole. Dragging his head along your folds collecting every bead of slick, just grazing your pulsing clit. Every muscle in your body trembling and anticipating what was to come.
You mewl at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock.
And especially not when he bottoms out inside you in one, harsh thrust. Burying himself inside your sloppy walls till his twitching balls smack against your ass.
“Ah- hngh- oh fuckkk.” you keen in both pain and pleasure - broken, raw moans leaving you uncontrollably. But not for long, because suddenly Choso’s shoving two ringed fingers in your mouth, bullying their way inside till you’re gagging and moaning around them.
Pressing right at that spot on the back of your tongue that makes your eyes tear up so prettily. Hey, if he couldn’t see you choking on his cock properly, the least he could do is see you choking on his fingers, right?
“Now now, wouldn’t want anyone else to hear, hm? Our brother’s would get worried.” he chuckles. Pure, dark amusement in his eyes as he takes in your swollen lips, the teartracks down your cheeks, how utterly beautiful and debauched you look underneath him. So much better than any lust-hazed imagination of his.
And yet, even when you’re being gagged and split apart on his cock, you find it in yourself to be mouthy. Words muffled around his thick fingers as you raise a brow. “There’s no one else home, though?.”
The corners of Choso’s lips lift into a devilish grin, “The neighbors, sweetheart.”
His tone is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness that sends a chill down your spine. He’s just joking, right? Right?
“Wha-”
And probably because he was losing his patience - and partly to shut you up - Choso begins to move.
Pushing past the resistance, beginning to fuck into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips. Just little motions to get him off, groaning at how sinfully tight you were - the way you were sucking him up so good.
Next time, Choso thinks, reaching down a hand to draw tight, little circles on your poor, abused clit - next time he’ll fuck you right. Hours upon hours of teasing you so you don’t know what it feels like when you’re empty without him.
But fuck does he think he could just about pass out right now.
There’s no going back now. Choso fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage.
Pulling all the way back so that his leaking tip just barely kisses your sloppy entrance, slamming down down down, Choso fucks you at a merciless pace. Relishing the delicious stretch of your cunt as he thrusts into you with a desperation that surpasses the need for reason.
“Sh-shit, sweetheart. God, s’tight. better than I ever could’ve imagined.” he moans breathlessly, brows furrowing, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the feeling of you milking the absolute soul out of him just too much.
“Oh, yeah- wanted this for so long-”
You yelp every time he rams his cock into you, the smacking of his toned pelvis against your thighs stinging almost as deliciously as his tip kissing your cervix. The obscene slapping of skin on skin makes your cheeks burn - both pairs as his heavy balls smack against your ass each time he shoves his throbbing cock into you.
And because you can’t leave him alone, of course, you find your nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders.
Pulling him impossibly closer. You want more. You need more.
Maybe you say those words out loud - you don’t even know anymore, too delirious and cock-drunk from Choso and your last orgasm and Choso - because his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, mouth falling open into a small oh. Your cunt twitches at the surprised, fucked-out little laugh that leaves him, “More? My sweetheart wants more?”
And, as you’ve come to learn with Choso - anything you want, you will get.
“Then fucking- take it.” he grunts lowly, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust of into your plush walls that sends both of you spiraling deeper and deeper into insanity.
And God does he make you take it. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits - both your cunt and your senses as he leans down to bury his head into your neck, hips moving so sloppily, hiking your leg further up his shoulder. The change in angle making you see stars.
Your hips buck up in tandem with his, uncontrollable little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. You whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room, “Yes. Yes yes yes- wan’ cum. Need more. Need you-”
“Fuck- Hngh-” is all he manages to gasp out, pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Choso’s balls twitch almost painfully as they keep smacking your ass. Brain still not keeping up with his body because shit, this is all he’s wanted for years, the least he could do is make you cum before him.
“Sh-shit, sweetheart.” he rasps into your heated skin, “So close- m’ so close.”
You all but sob at his words, “M’too- hngh- ah, m’gonna cum, baby.”
You didn’t expect the petname to be what breaks him, but then again you didn’t think there was anything more left to break. Because Choso groans gutturally, cock twitching inside you “Shit, you’re driving m’crazy, y’know that?”
“I know.” you mewl, voice breaking at the way he increases his frenzied pace on your clit. You could barely even call them circles, just filthy little movements to get you closer and closer to the edge. So close. You writhe beneath him, desperate for release.
And what you didn’t expect was for Choso to connect his sweaty forehead with yours. You take a second to admire just how beautiful he is - all smudged eyeliner, tousled hair, your release still shining on the lower half of his face, and yours. All yours. You could probably stare at the sight forever.
Choso’s hot breath fans your face as he moans breathlessly against your lips, words slurring together as he ruts into you mindlessly, “Always did, y’know?”
“I know.”
“No- y’don’t hah- understand, I- for so long fuck- I-”
“Choso, just kiss me.”
And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you like you’re the most precious thing on Earth. A slow, tender little dance that doesn’t match the way he rams his cock inside you.
And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - clamping down desperately on the harsh, jerky movements of his glistening cock that fuck you so sinfully like his little slut.
White-hot pleasure runs down your spine, or maybe that was Choso - painting your insides the prettiest white you’ve ever seen. Shooting thick, hot ropes of his seed into your waiting pussy. A creamy ring forming around his base as he spills his cum into your snug cunt as he moans against your lips.
It’s messy. It’s sloppy. And as Choso fills you to the brim, hips still unforgiving, seed dribbling out of your dripping pussy at the way it was so overfilled - you think that it’s all you could ever want.
As his cock twitches finally, exhaustedly - and you distantly wonder how the fuck it isn’t seizing up - Choso collapses onto you, thoroughly fucked-out. Finally pulling out with an obscene squelch, you hiss lowly at the pool of cum that forms beneath you. Gushing out of you sinfully.
A weighty silence in the air as you both try to catch your breaths.
In the haze of your orgasm you realize that even after all that transpired, he still isn’t laying his full bodyweight on you.
Too afraid to break you.
To break whatever this tender little understanding in the air was.
And it makes some part of your heart clench so delightfully. Subconsciously, you thread a hand through his damp hair, breathing in that familiar smell of vanilla and sunshine - and the heady scent of something so Choso. It makes you intertwine your body so impossibly close with his, not knowing where one of you ends and the other starts.
“My parents are coming home tomorrow.” you start, casually.
“Mhm. But I’ll still be around here, sweetheart.” Choso rumbles into the crook of your neck. Kissing soothingly over the marks he’d made in the heat of the moment - some carnal little part of him proud of the way you looked like you were fucking thrown to a pack of wolves.
Words hiding a tense little fear beneath them as you probe further. Something prickly and scared rolling around in your stomach. “For babysitting?”
“Nope.”
Settling deeper into the covers, basking in the afterglow of him. You know you should get up and clean, but right now this was all you wanted. And maybe no other words were needed.
“God, am I glad your parents aren’t home.”
Except maybe those.
You chuckle as you pull back to stare into those deep, dark eyes. Cheeks flaring at the tender little warmth in them much more than they had when he was fucking you so sinfully. A devious idea coming to mind - because now that you got a taste, you were absolutely hooked.
Choso Kamo was absolutely intoxicating.
“Well, we still have time so how about-”
A distant click!
“Honey, we’re home~!”
Shit.
A/N. Fun fact this was originally supposed to be called Timeout! but it was giving too much me during beep test.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#choso x reader#choso smut#choso x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo smut#choso kamo x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#choso#tonywrites#choso kamo
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Guard Dog vol. II
jason todd x fem!reader
aka don’t fuck with jason’s gf pt. II
3 in 1 blurbs
warnings: mild standard gotham violence, in the 3rd section: attempted sexual assault and panicky thoughts afterwards from reader
“Sweetheart, this is…not good.”
You turn your head over to him, where he’s frowning, hands on his hips as he inspects your bedroom window.
You tilt your head, looking it over from your place on the couch. “What’s wrong with it?”
He sighs, “Well for one, the lock is broken. But even if it weren’t, this thing would be so easy to break.”
“It’s the lock the place came with.” You shrug. At least it has a lock. In Gotham that’s kind of asking a lot.
“Yeah, I can tell.” He frowns at the window once again, moving over to stand behind the couch. “I’m getting you better locks.” He looks to you, “I can install them tomorrow?”
You tilt your head up to look at him, “You don’t need to get me new locks, Jay…”
“Okay.” He kisses your head, “I’m getting them.”
You sigh in defeat, though your smile makes it lose its credibility. “Tomorrow’s fine. I assume you’re staying the night, then?”
He makes his way to the kitchen as he says, “Well, I’m not leaving you alone here with this piece of shit the only thing between you and Gotham.”
“I’ve lived here for two years.” You say flatly.
“Don’t remind me.” He mumbles as he moves behind the counter. “Actually, your door chain’s broken too, isn’t it?” It is, but that’s his own fault.
You had a long day a couple weeks ago and had a very long, very hot shower the second you got home. Unfortunately, it had slipped your mind to text him that you were home safe and he’d broken through the chain in one try to make sure you were okay.
You hum, “It wasn’t doing much anyways.” Clearly.
He grimaces as he heats up the stove for dinner.
You laugh lightly, “What?”
He looks back at you with a frankly adorable frown, “I don’t like that.”
You’d never thought much of it. You hadn’t had any—well, many—problems living here before, and you still had your deadbolt and handle lock.
“It’s okay. I’m safe here.”
He looks like he strongly disagrees. He comes back over, sitting next to you, taking your face in his hands. “Will you please let me set up some security measures around here?”
“Did Jason Todd just say please?” You say in faux-shock.
He rolls his eyes at you, “I’m serious.”
You sigh, contemplatively. “I don’t want my apartment looking like the Home Alone set.”
He laughs at that, “It’s not going to. You won’t even notice most of them. Just do it for me, please?”
“I’ll agree, but only because I know you’re going to do it anyways and I’d like to pretend I have control over this.” That’s not true, you’d agree to literally anything if he said please that sweetly again, but that’s your business.
“Fair enough.” He smiles, kissing your cheek.
No, it’s not fair at all.
It’s late. You’re not even sure how late but the city has calmed from its usual noises, indicating that your boyfriend will be home soon.
You’re coming up heavy on cramps tonight and according to the mockingly empty spot in your medicine cabinet, you’re out of ibuprofen. Yeah, it’s late, but the store on the corner is a three minute walk and fuck your stomach hurts. Jason wouldn’t like it if you went out without telling him though, so maybe you should wait until—
The sound of the living room window sliding open breaks you away from your thoughts, followed by a clatter of something hitting the ground.
You walk back into the dimly lit room, finding your boyfriend sliding the window shut again, holsters abandoned on the ground. He turns and collapses onto the couch face first, body immediately gone limp.
“Hey, baby.” You bite back a laugh, coming over to rub his muscled back from behind the couch. He groans into the cushion in response. “Why don’t you go get in bed?”
He hums almost imperceptibly, sitting up and rubbing his eyes roughly with his palms.
He stands and takes your hand in his as he passes by, tugging you towards the bedroom. The deep ache in your abdomen reminds you of your earlier train of thought. You pull your hand back, stopping in your tracks.
He turns back to you with a frown, wanting to know what could possibly be getting in his way of falling asleep, holding you close.
“I gotta go pick up some ibuprofen. I’ll be right back.” You say quietly, not wanting to disturb the quietness of the night for him. His frown deepens as you head towards the door, watching you.
You’ve got your purse in hand and are reaching for the handle when you hear his footsteps following in suit. “Hey, it’s okay. Stay here, I’m just going to the 24 hour store on the corner.”
He shakes his head, “You’re not going out in Gotham alone at two in the morning. Put your coat on, it’s cold.”
You do as you’re told, shrugging the coat on as you glance over at him. “Jason, it’s okay. You’re exhausted, go to sleep.”
He ignores you, throwing a sweatshirt on to cover up his armor, and follows you out the door; albeit far more sluggish than usual.
He was right though, the night air is bitter and slaps your face with every step forward you take. He lingers a few steps behind you, honest to god almost falling asleep mid step a couple times.
Frankly, you’re not even sure what kind of fight he’d be able to put up in this state. Though, he’s surprised you plenty of times before. In any case, his head snaps up every time there’s any sign of movement around, instantly on alert.
He trails behind you as you browse through the narrow aisles, hands stuffed in his sweatshirt.
As you’re standing at the store counter paying, his neck is craned forward, resting on your shoulder. You rub soothing circles into his hand with your thumb, though you’re sure it’s not doing anything to help his exhaustion.
You’re walking back home, the bite of the air a bit more forgiving in this direction. There’s another man walking down the sidewalk approaching, hands in pocket.
Jason’s too tired to bother with subtlety, glaring directly at the passerby before he could even think of trying anything. And it works, because the guy averts his gaze real quick and speeds up past you.
He continues working at his post from just behind you all the way until you’re back inside your apartment.
He takes the medicine container out of his pocket and cracks it open for you, wordlessly filling up a glass of water after. You gulp down a couple of the pills, and he takes the glass and bottle out of your hand the second you’re done, setting them on the counter.
He turns to you, eyes barely open, mumbling, “Can we sleep now?”
You smile at his fatigued state and take his hand, leading him to the bedroom.
Your neighbor likes you. You know it, Jason knows it.
The worst he’d done was flirt with you, badly, and shut his mouth real quick whenever your boyfriend emerged from your apartment.
And Jason let that go; he knows better than anybody that you’re heavenly and sweet and clever, of course this fucking guy likes you. Jason set an unspoken rule with himself, that he won’t get violent with any guys unless they put their hands on you. Something he knows for absolute fact your neighbor has not done.
At least he hadn’t until a couple of hours ago. You’d been in the hallway at the mailslots, your boyfriend nowhere in sight, when he decided it was the perfect time to make a move. Make several moves, actually.
You’re sitting on the couch, knees to chest, still trying to wrap your mind wround what had happened when Jason sees you. You stopped crying a while ago and you’ve entered the phase of…well. That happened.
Your hear keys jingling outside the door, followed by your boyfriend's entrance. He’s carrying some grocery bags and has a book tucked under his chin.
He lets the bags slide off his arms, and sets the book on the counter with them, beaming, “You’re never gonna guess what b—“ His smile drops when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”
You shake your head, “Nothing.” But your blinking feels off all of a sudden, and you can’t remember what you usually do with your face when you’re not lying. It doesn’t matter though, you could be an academy award winning actress and you’re still sure Jason would be able to see right through you with a single glance.
He frowns, “Don’t lie to me.” He moves towards you, kneeling down in front of you. “Please. What’s wrong?” His eyes are worried now, more than usual.
You don’t want him to worry about this. He already worries about you too much and he’s got all his vigilante stuff and…you just want to believe that this is a manageable situation and not a problem. Not something that affected you.
“It’s just…it’s not a big deal, okay? I can handle it—”
His posture stiffens and his voice suddenly goes low and serious, “What happened?”
You know where this is going. “Jason. Promise me you won’t do anything.”
His brow furrows, and his frown turns to something closer to anger. “Did someone put their hands on you? Who?”
“Jason—”
“Who did it?”
“The neighbor, b—” he immediately snaps to a stand and starts towards the door. You hurry to grab onto his hand before he can escape your proximity, “Jason. Please don’t.”
The break in your voice is enough to make his rage falter and turn back around to face you.
“Baby, if he touched you—” His eyes are pleading, begging you to let him go take care of this. If not for you, then for him.
“It wasn’t—he didn’t do anything. He didn’t get to. I hit him and he backed off.” Which is…sort of true.
He stares at you. “In the hallway?”
You blink. “…Yeah?”
He takes off towards the bedroom wordlessly. You follow quickly on his tail, watching him sit on the edge of your bed, opening his computer and clicking through it quickly.
You slide over next to him, and see that he's pulling up a file under the name of your building and today’s date. It takes you two seconds too long to realize what he’s doing, the thought only sinking in right as you see the hallway security camera footage on the screen.
“Jason—” you try to close the computer but he bats your hand away.
He forwards through the footage, as you scramble trying and failing to reach past him, various building occupants coming in and out of frame rapidly.
“—please just listen to me.” But he did listen to you, and he heard that someone tried to hurt you. That was all he needed to hear.
He stops when he sees you enter the frame, watching closely. He sees you flipping through the mail. He sees your neighbor slither out of his apartment and stand far too close to you. You take a step back only to be met with two steps forward by him. He says something to you, probably asking where your boyfriend is.
The angle doesn’t show his face, but it does see yours, and you look incredibly uncomfortable. You don’t answer him, which evidently was enough of an answer in itself.
Your neighbor tries to brush some of your hair out of your face but you snap your head away, stumbling back a little. He uses your lack of balance as an “excuse” to grab onto your waist, pulling you close to him.
Your hands are out in front of you and you’re shaking your head as he pushes towards you. His lips land on your neck and you try to move backwards, but he grabs your wrists and holds you in place.
You fight against his grip, and upon realizing that your struggling doesn’t matter to him at all, you dig your nails into his wrists so hard you draw blood. He groans in pain and his grip on you loosens.
You snap your hands away and push yourself away, locking yourself in your apartment. Your neighbor lingers for a moment, shouting something at the door before trudging back into his apartment and slamming the door.
Jason snaps the laptop shut, coming to a stand once again. His fists clinch at his sides. “That was not nothing.”
No, it wasn’t. But you feel so helpless right now. You sure as hell felt it in the hallway, and it keeps lingering in you and you’re not sure why. You couldn’t do anything then, you can’t do anything now…it feels like all the bad things in the world are closing in on you and you just have to let it happen.
“I…I don’t want anyone to die because of me…” your words aren’t quite matching your thoughts, but this is the closest you can get right now.
He pulls back to look at you, brows furrowed. “It’s—it’s not because of you. It’s because of him. Baby, if I were on patrol and saw him grab some other girl like that I’d do the same thing.”
You know that. You know that. But communication seems impossible right now even though it’s the only tool you have to stop things from closing in.
“No, I know that. I know…it’s just…” Things are closing in anyways. Alright, this is happening now. Your eyes start watering and your voice trembles.
“Fuck, baby.” His hand flies to the back of your head, other arm wrapping around your middle, pulling you to him.
You feel a bit silly, crying over the potential death of someone who tried to hurt you, in front of the Red Hood of all people.
“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know. It’s—it’s too many bad things. I can’t…”
“Okay. Okay. It’s okay. I’ll stay here. I’m staying here with you, okay?” You nod into his chest, tears dampening his shirt.
This is a temporary solution, you know that even now. But you think once it expires, it might be easier to accept whatever Jason’s going to do later.
He’s quiet for a few minutes, holding you in his arms as you sway back and forth lightly.
“Will you forgive me if I kill him?” He whispers into your hair.
You roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. “Don’t.”
“Is that a yes?”
You pull back to look him in the eyes, face setting. “I’m getting the feeling you’re going to do something regardless of how this conversation ends.” He says nothing. “Just, please, don’t kill him.”
He holds you tighter and you do the same, laying your head against his chest again. You feel him press a kiss to your head as he takes a deep breath.
You think on it for a moment, figuring it needs saying, “And don’t get in trouble.”
Your neighbor comes home late that night, trudging through the front door with a perpetual frown. He opens the door to his notably unlocked apartment. He drops his bag on the ground with a thump and flicks on the lamp next to the door. He shuts the door and turns the lock when the red elephant in the room pipes up.
“Hey, bud.”
He jumps, spinning around, “Who the fuck—oh, shit.” He freezes the second he sees him, sitting in the armchair across the room. The Red Hood nods, loading the gun in his hand.
Your neighbor stutters, “What—what are you doing here?”
He looks up at him, cocking the gun. “You put your hands on your neighbor, yeah?”
He looks fake-shocked at the accusation. “What? No, I would ne—which neighbor?”
He can’t see it, but Hood’s face drops into a deadpan. “That is really not helping your case.”
Your neighbor eyes the gun nervously.
Hood sighs, “I’m not going to kill you. I’ve been told it’s bad manners to execute someone the first time you meet.” He glances down the nail marks on his arm and steels his jaw. “No. What’s going to happen is you’re going to break your lease and move out. Within the next week.”
The neighbors eyes widen, “A week? Are you insane?”
Hood tilts his head a bit before shaking it, “Nah, you’re right. By tomorrow night.”
“This is my apartment. I live here, I’m not going anywhere. And unless you’re secretly Saul the landlord under there, you can’t do anything about it.” He crosses his arms, clearly feeling very proud of himself. Well, killing him isn’t the only option, is it?
Hood stands, making his way across the room casually. “Yeah, I thought you’d say that.” He clocks him hard on the head with the frame of his gun. He goes down quickly and loudly, clutching his head, groaning. “The alternative is getting beaten half to death and hoping whatever hospital you end up at knows what they’re doing.”
Honestly, neighbor boy is pressing his luck as is. Maybe it was a bad idea for Jason to bring the gun.
“Fuck! Fine! I’ll go!” He wails.
Hood kicks his abdomen with the side of his boot, though not nearly as hard as he wanted to. “Shut up. You’ll disturb the neighbors.”
The neighbor groans again, quieter. He mumbles something about Hood being crazy but it gets lost under the grunts of pain.
Hood crouches down next to him, patting him on the head with the barrel of his gun. “Don’t worry, bud. I’ll check up on you. And if I ever see you so much as look in the general direction of another girl I’ll put a bullet in your head. Sound good?”
Your former neighbor drops his head to the ground, hand still clutching the growing swell on his forehead.
#these are all wildly different lengths my b#jason todd loves his gf#jason todd the doberman#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#jason todd x you#jason todd/you#jason todd/reader#jason todd fanfic#jason todd fanfiction#red hood x you#red hood imagine#red hood x reader#red hood fanfic#red hood fanfiction
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YAY, YOU'RE BACK TO WRITING FOR ARCANE. How would the arcane characters react (mainly vi, ekko, and jinx because i would marry, marry, and marry them all!!) to a reader who is sooo affectionate and finds every last thing they do so cute they get cuteness aggression and just jump at them like a cuddle bug often? thank you so much!!
Coming right up!
Arcane x Cuddle Bug! Reader
Characters: Powder/Jinx, Violet "Vi", Ekko, Caitlyn Kiramman, Viktor, Jayce Talis, Mel Medarda, Sevika and Ran.
Warning: None really. SFW.
A/N: Am I the only one who wants to snuggle into Caitlyn? Ugh, I love her so much.
Powder/Jinx
“Oh! Hey there, sugar! You want to cuddle? Don’t have to ask me twice! I’ll cuddle you so much that you get tired of me! But you’d never get tired of me, right?”
Jinx is a super clingy person, so for you to be as clingy as her it’s like you two are a match made in heaven. There’s barely any time that passes when you two are not touching each other and she lives for your cuddles. It doesn’t matter if you hug her out of nowhere or she sees you about to embrace her, she is stopping everything she is doing and pulling you into the tightest of hugs.
Most of the time if she isn’t causing mayhem in the streets of Zaun or busy with her inventions, she will spend her time just holding you so close and showering your face with the cutest but most childish of kisses. She doesn’t care if it’s in private or public, she will make it known that you two can’t keep your hands off each other. You are her cuddlebug and she is yours and that won’t ever change.
Violet “Vi”
“Woah there, cuddle bug! You’re gonna make me screw up my workout… Oh forget it. How can I say no to you?”
Because Violet is absolutely touch starved, she will never decline your cuddles, even if you take her by surprise a few times with how you hug her so suddenly. She finds it adorable how you fangirl around her and find everything she does to be awesome or cute. Granted she does wish you’d call her hot or sexy, but knows that isn’t really in tune with your personality.
Regardless, she tries to make sure you know how adorable you are, always telling you while you two are cuddled up together how lucky she is to have you and how you are so adorable. Even when you visit her at work, she’ll try to drop everything and have you run into her arms to pick you up. And every time she’s got time off work or is coming back from a job, she’s automatically looking for you so she could hook you in her arms and never let go.
Ekko
“Y/N, haha! You know we gotta keep this private, babe- The kids are gonna pounce on us any second now!”
Does Ekko love hugging you? Absolutely. The warmth of your arms around his body makes him stop everything he’s doing and just hug you while calling you his firelight or firefly. Unless he’s calling you an angel or lovebug, which never fails to make Scar either look at you two in awe or roll their eyes in mock annoyance. Unfortunately, Ekko does try his best to make sure you two don’t get super affectionate around the children, especially when it comes to hugs.
Why? Because as soon as you hug him, the children find this as an invitation to gather around him and have him nearly die under a cuteness overload of a group hug. It’s nice as a once in a while occurrence, but all the time? Maybe not. Outside of the reactions you two garnish and even the teasing of you being the firelight king/queen, Ekko lives for your cuddlebug energy, wanting to be in your arms after a long day’s work. It’s always the best way to end the night…
Caitlyn Kiramman
“And that’s why if I am able to block this end of the road, I’ll- Oh!... Oh come here, sweetheart. If you wanted to cuddle so badly, you could’ve asked.”
Caitlyn has always been someone who was more subtle with her love, pulling you into brief kisses, cupping your cheek and holding you by your waist. She usually leaves the more out there gestures like hugging and cuddling for you to initiate. But when you do? It might be harder for you to get her off of you instead of the other way around. It can be at work, in her home, outside of work or at an event. As soon as she feels your arms wrap around her slender body, she’s stopping for a second to hold you back and kiss your forehead.
She will continue working if you interrupt her during a briefing or in the middle of cracking a case, but the entire time, she will have at least one arm around your body and make sure you are comfortable. Her comrades tease her about it and she’ll scowl a bit, but she doesn’t care. As far as she can tell, she’s extremely lucky to have you as a lover.
Viktor
“Ah! Oh, it is just you, zolotse. Remember, you have to warn me of these cute little hugs of yours.”
At first, Viktor wasn’t used to your physical affection and how you were in awe of everything he did. He actually thought you were mocking him at first or being silly. But after a while, especially when the two of you became a couple, he grew accustomed to your affections. He does get a bit startled when you hug him out of nowhere and he does have moments where you cheering him on does make him a bit bashful, but he enjoys your sweet gestures regardless.
He does find it difficult to be as outgoing with his love for you as you are with him, but he does try his best to make you realize he loves you, especially in the form of quality time and calling you by sweet pet names bound to make you blush. Viktor has a tendency to pass out from working too hard and waking up in your arms. And though he’d never say it out loud, you know based on the way he snuggles into you, he adores it and adores you.
Jayce Talis
“I know what you want and I want it too- So bring it in! I’ve waited all day to be in your arms!”
Because Jayce is always out at work, it’s kind of hard for you two to be around one another all the time. That’s why when he does reunite with you after hours or you two can be together on days off, he’s spending the majority of his free time with you or wrapped around you. He sort of craves for your praise and compliments as much as he craves your cuddles.
Many would compare the councilman to a needy dog wanting his owner’s undivided attention and he definitely gets that through you. Though he may try to act all cool or play coy, everyone knows that you mean so much to him and that he becomes putty around you. Even if they don’t, you’re not afraid to say it aloud. Just make sure Jayce isn’t around or that man will become redder than a beet.
Mel Medarda
“What’s wrong?... I know that look. You want to- Ah! Well looks like you beat me to the punch, darling. How about we take this to the bed, hmm?”
Mel wasn’t really given physical affection when she was younger. She was more someone who preferred verbal affection with words of affirmation. So when it came to you and how affectionate you are, she found herself adapting and loving physical affection as much as telling you how much she loved you.
Your cuddles and sweet gestures are her personal heaven she loves returning to after a long day’s work, especially if she can spend an evening with you platonically in your shared bed. In your arms, she feels she can air out anything that’s bothering her or interests her, especially when you admit how cute it is when she does. Though this kind of intimate affection is delegated to private quarters, anyone can know from the way Mel speaks of you outside of home and at events that you mean so much to her.
Sevika
“Yeah! So then I was like screw you, I can do whatever- Hold on. Uh, Y/N. I thought we agreed to not do this at work?”
Sevika is considered the Right Hand of Zaun, a woman who is feared if not respected by her peers. And she’d like to keep it that way. Which means that while you two are at work, she prefers it if you don’t cuddle her around co-workers and give them something to tease her about. You two can only flirt and kiss and even then, it has to be sexy…
But alone, when both of you are away from the public eye, Sevika is at your beck and call wishing for nothing else but to hear your sweet praises and melt into your arms and touch. Expect her to call you the cutest thing ever and tease you on occasion, but afterwards she’s basically a big needy cat, or as she prefers to be called, a panther. It’s moments like these where you can really consider yourself lucky to see a raw side of Sevika. And it was only preserved for you.
If you got any requests for Arcane or X-Men '97, send them my way!
Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3
#x reader#x female reader#x you#x male reader#arcane x reader#fluff headcanons#headcanons#jinx x reader#jinx x y/n#jinx x gender neutral reader#vi x you#vi x reader#vi x y/n#caitlyn x reader#caitlyn x y/n#ekko x reader#sevika x reader#sevika x you#sevika x y/n#viktor x you#viktor x oc#viktor x reader#viktor x y/n#jayce x reader#mel x reader#requests are open#requests are welcome#requests are still open btw
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MEN who cum so much that it damn near bloats your tummy by the time he’s emptied his balls inside of you. a majority of the reason he cums so much is that he doesn’t jack off often. after all, why should he when he has you around to fuck his stupidly thick cock into and pump you with rope after rope of his hot cum instead? it’s heavy, it’s thick, and it’s opaquely white with the consistency of liquid cream—like melted vanilla ice cream. you always feel so delightfully full by the time he’s emptied himself into you. every time he pulls out of you, your hole always clenches around nothing, trying desperately to keep what you can inside, but it’s near impossible. there's just so much of it that you can’t help but have it leak out of you—thick, milky, steaming globs rolling down the creases of your nethers in a disgustingly lewd fashion—one that he couldn’t get enough of. that’s fine by him, though; after all, it just gives him the excuse to go round after round, fucking his cum so deep into you that you wouldn’t even dream of it dribbling out of you.
sometimes, you just have to wrap your lips around his fat balls that are practically gurgling with his virile seed, twitching in your mouth as he makes you work for your 'reward'. don’t even get me started on when he fucks your throat. his cock is so big, so monstrously thick, that your jaw begins to ache within seconds of wrapping your lips around him. he has to ease you through it as his massive cock nearly suffocates you and stuffs your tiny throat full.
“yeah, that’s it, angel.” he drawls as he languidly thrusts into your mouth, feeding you inch after inch of his heavy mass. “that’s it, take it, sweetness. you can do it. you’re my good little cockslut, aren’t you? haah, shit. you hungry for my cum? wanna feel it pumping down your throat and into your pretty tummy? yeah? oh fuck, baby. you drive me insane.”
not to mention, he’s a head pusher. he doesn’t want you to spill a single drop when he finally comes undone, holding you by the back of your head against the fine hair of his pelvis and drowning you in his light, masculine scent. his taste isn’t bad either. it tastes nothing like strawberries or anything, but it is oddly enjoyable in that the saltiness is just right—not overbearing, but not so much that you want to spit it out. god forbid you waste a single drop.
“oh? looks like you’ve made a mess, baby.” he says as he thumbs the creamy substance at the corner of your swollen brims to push back into your panting maw.
“don’t worry, angel. there’s plenty more where that came from.”
kaiser michael. NAGI SEISHIRO. KUNIGAMI RENSUKE. shoei barou. itoshi sae. itoshi rin. CHIGIRI HYOMA. MIKAGE REO. SHIDOU RYUSEI. NANAMI KENTO. GETO SUGURU. kamo choso. FUSHIGURO TOJI. sukuna. GOJO SATORU. mahito. WRIOTHESLEY. zhongli. neuvillette. CHILDE. ALHAITHAM. kamisato ayato. RAGNVINDR DILUC. tighnari. scaramouche/wanderer. HEIZOU. xiao.
ⓒ vampiie 2024 — all rights reserved. please do not repost my work outside of tumblr, modify, or translate my work in any form/means. please do not share my work to tiktok or any other site.
#blue lock#jujutsu kaisen#genshin impact#blue lock smut#bllk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#genshin impact smut#genshin smut#nagi seishiro smut#itoshi rin smut#shidou ryusei smut#nanami smut#gojo smut#sukuna smut#toji smut#wriothesley smut#neuvillette smut#childe smut#alhaitham smut#zhongli smut#vampiiebitez#vampiiethirstz
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ROUGH N ROWDY ! — JUJUTSU KAISEN
⊹₊˚. when he’s rough with you, it only gets better and better.
⟡ feat. gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji, kamo choso.
⟡ warnings: 18+ content (mdni), f! reader, various degrees of rough sex, spanking, face fucking, reader wears a skirt in choso’s, scratching, biting, one face slap, clit slapping, overstimulation.
⟡ xoxo, juno: my fav men <3 rbs are appreciated sososo much !!
— GOJO SATORU.
“fuck, so good..” satoru groans loudly, silencing your wails as he pushes your head deeper into the bed. he’s behind you, fucking your pussy with no regard for how rough he’s being.
he grips your hips so hard that his nails have left crescent moons indented into your skin, and it makes you cry into the sheets. satoru could always get a little rough, depending on the day and how you felt about it. but he’s always been really mean when he fucks you like this.
“toru, t-too rough!” you scream into the sheets, hole fluttering with delight when he slaps your clit.
“i don’t think so,” he says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “seems like your pussy likes it, yeah? you’re always such a slut when i fuck you like this.”
your moans and cries are muffled when he slams your head further into the sheets, going so far as to rub your face in the puddle of drool you’ve created.
“aww, you’re sucking me in so greedily. i think i’ll keep slapping your slutty pussy, hm?”
he punctuates his statement with a stinging slap to your clit that has you sobbing, pushing back against him. satoru’s nails rake down your back, leaving puffy marks on your skin.
“satoru, harder!” you finally jerk your head to the side and stare at him, face messy with drool and tears.
his fingers thread through your hair as he adjusts your head and pushes you back down onto the sheets. “oh, but i might as well not touch you, huh? the agreement was to keep your face down, and your ass up.”
— GETO SUGURU.
“oh, come now, you can take it.” suguru’s voice is firm, and he accentuates his point with hard slaps to your ass. whiny, pathetic cries of his name leave your kiss-bruised and bitten lips as your head falls forward, eyes dazedly focusing on his cock pistoning in and out of you.
“s-sugu, please, it’s too much, i—” a slap to your ass, harder than the last, cuts you right off and has you moaning. your ass stings, the skin hot but still ready for more.
“hm, you wanted this, isn’t that right?” he groans, choking on pleasure as he tries to keep his voice still. the sound of his wet thrusts fill the car, the air heavy with sweat and the scent of sex. your fingers scrabble against the car door, nails biting into your palms when he thrusts particularly hard.
suguru’s cock slams into the deepest parts of you, punching moans from your throat every single time. he’s trying hard to be mean, keep his composure, but you’re squeezing him so tightly he can barely form a coherent thought.
“yes! yes, suguru, please go a l-little slower, it’s too much..” drool seeps from the corners of your lips, trickling down your chin as you pick your head up, craning your neck as much as possible.
behind you, suguru is smirking at you, the always loose piece of hair on the left side of his head sticking to his sweaty forehead. the rest of his lengthy tresses are pulled into a sloppy bun at the back of his head, strands escaping with the force of his thrusts.
“no can do, baby,” he whispers, fingers of one hand digging into the softness of your hip. “all that teasing earlier definitely calls for this.”
— NANAMI KENTO.
“i really hate having to work overtime, princess,” kento huffs, yanking your hair and making you arch, head turning towards him.
“i hate it too, kento!” you cry, nodding. more tears fall down your cheeks with the movement, and he lets your hair slip from his hands as he moves to wrap his hand around your neck.
“think i want to pound you so hard we both forget i was late to dinner, hm, angel?” kento’s voice is sweet and steady, although he’s fucking your overstimulated pussy so hard it’s squelching and dripping.
you’re bent over and entirely at his mercy, stuffed full of his cock, the pressure so tight inside you you want to almost run away from it. the large, strong arm wrapped around your entire midsection and his hand on your throat keeps you in place, causing you to press your hands into the wall for support.
you’ve gone dumb on his cock, words slow to form and confused at the amount of times you’ve cum. five? eight? every time you try to form a coherent thought he fucks it away quickly, so you’ve resulted to responding only to what he says and thinking about nothing besides kento. he hasn’t even let himself cum yet, he’s that dead set on making you forget about dinner..
“k-kento, i’m gonna cum again, ah!”
“mhm,” he mumbles into your shoulder, before biting down hard into your skin. with a whiny cry, you sob as you cum again on his thick cock, walls squeezing down on him.
he allows you mercy, staying still as he holds you tightly, hips pausing. the second you loosen up, hole still fluttering, he’s immediately fucking into you again.
“kento, it’s too fucking much, i—”
he stands straight, yanking your hair so you’ll look back at him with that pretty, teary face of yours.
“no,” kento says firmly, lightly slapping your cheek. “you can still cum a few more times.”
— FUSHIGURO TOJI.
“fuuuck, s’good,” toji tightens his grip on the back of your head, fingers twisting hard in your hair. he pounds your throat at an unforgiving face, his hips rough and demanding as his tip plows into the back of your throat.
“takin’ it like a damn champ.. good fuckin’ girl.” he groans, his voice raspy as he tosses his head back. tears pour down your cheeks as he completely stuffs your mouth full with his cock, and you rake your eyes up and down his shirtless chest before settling on his face.
a thin sheen of sweat gleams on his well-muscled chest, heaving while his abs clench. distracted by his attractive body, you slowly, unconsciously start to back off his cock.
“nuh uh,” toji grits, swiftly yanking you back into place and shoving his cock deeply down your throat, “i haven’t cum yet.”
you gag loudly, more tears falling from your pretty eyes. but, toji doesn’t really give a damn — he draws his hips back and shoves them forward before he’s back to the tempo he’d set before. you spread your knees, sliding a hand between your thighs and pressing at your clit through soaked panties.
he scoffs, caught between a laugh and a raspy moan, and smirks. “love it when you’re a slut for my fuckin’ cock. that’s real good..”
— KAMO CHOSO.
your back hits the wall, and a sharp crack of pain resonates through your body before choso’s pouncing on you, yanking your skirt up your thighs without hesitation.
“c-choso, slow down!” you gasp, but he just spreads your legs and slides his pants down. “my skirt’s not even off yet, wait—”
“mm mm, need this. need you.” choso leaves no room for discussion as he slots himself against you, hot and hard and pressing between your legs. “it’s been too damn long,” he states, tugging and rolling your shirt up to your shoulders.
his large palms smooth against your thighs, and he looks into your eyes and then shifts his gaze to your neck. “mhm, please..” is all you answer, voice soft as your hips buck into his own.
choso’s hand lands on your neck and he digs his fingers into the sides, not gripping yet, and tugs your soaked panties to the side. then he guides his cock between your folds, and shoves himself right inside you. your leg lifts, and he holds it tightly at his side, keeping you spread open.
as you gasp “choso!” he grips your neck hard, effectively choking you and making your eyes roll right back. with his lips pulled back and his teeth catching the low light of the room, he leans in towards your tits. teeth dig into your skin as he bites your nipple sharply, and your chest bounces as you reel back in a mixture of pain and pleasure.
“oh, that hurts like hell,” you groan, slipping a hand into his messy hair and undoing his spiky buns; then you push him in. “bite me harder.”
choso’s grip on your neck tightens further, teeth baring down on your other tit in a flurry of bites, his hips slamming into you all the while.
you choke, garbling out some sort of expletive, and his thrusts are so fast and hard that you consider that they sting just a little. the thought of the little shocks of pain all over has you clenching on his cock like a vice, growing wetter and wetter.
his groan into your tits is whiny, and then he’s spasming and filling you with all his cum.
choso finally tugs himself off your tits, lips shining with drool. looking down, you see that your tits are bruised and fresh marks are blooming across your skin. cum starts to drip down his cock, and yet he still pushes himself into you with a whine. but he still stays hard inside of you — he loves to throw you around, mark you up, and use you like a fucking fleshlight, even though it means overstimulating himself too.
#kurooh#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#gojo smut#gojo x reader#geto x reader#geto smut#nanami smut#nanami x reader#toji smut#toji x reader#toji x you#choso smut#choso x reader#choso x you#jjk nanami#nanami x you#jjk fanfic#gojo x you#getou suguru x reader#geto x you
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Don’t cry over spilled milk (or do)
Pairing: The Milkman x Male reader
Content warnings: 18+, anal fingering, Francis is one vocal fellow
Thinking about Francis Mosses who’s always been considered the perfect top, mostly because of his size- getting to bottom for the first time in his life.
Down on all four, with his ass in the air big fat cock uselessly hanging between his legs, and feeling himself flushing red from being in such a vulnerable position.
Besides the embarrassment brewing in his gut, he feels restless just laying like that , so used to being able to see what his partner is doing to him, now he can only rely on the feeling of your two thumbs prying his cheeks apart, and exposing the sensitive flesh to the cold air.
Goosebumps raise across his skin, a sharp breath escapes his lips and he can feel the impatience growing inside of him. “Come on come come on just hurry up!,” he hisses out, feeling even more vulnerable from the way your gaze seems to be burning into the pink flesh of his ass.
“Patience love” you say, hand firmly landing on his cheek, and as much as he’s embarrassed to say it, the action manages to silence him.
His dark eyes glare down at the bright white sheets, thumbs fiddling with the loose threads of it, trying to ignore how his face must be as red as the cheek you just slapped while you freely ogle at him.
“Anybody told you that you look pretty like this hm?” You say, thumbing curiously at his puckered rim, but not adding enough pressure to push your finger inside him.
Another wave of embarrassment washes over him, and he feel the urge to cuss you out with every curse word to exist in the English language but he knows but he knows by doing so you, you’ll further prolong this.
So he clears his throat, swallows down his pride before he mutters the word “No,”
A contended hum escapes your lips, your hot breath washing over his skin and this time he knows your face is just a hair away from his puckered rim. “Well you are,” you say, words as firm as your grip on him. “So so pretty”
And you’re so so close yet so far away.
He clears his throat again, swallows the last bit of pride in him before he utters the words “Please just please-“
“What is it sweetheart? What do you want hm?” You say, amusement clear in your voice. He can even feel the way the tip of your nose drags along his bottom half, doing everything and anything in your power to wind him up and he doesn’t know how much more he can take before he combust.
“Please just please fuck me!” He cries out, tears threatening to spill from his glassy eyes but all the air is suddenly punched out of his lungs when you slip the tip of your finger inside.
There’s a slight sting that comes with the stretch, body momentarily tensing as you carefully work your finger inside him”Oh! Oh oh fuck!”
“Francis? You okay?” You say, carefully massaging the pink flesh.
With each brush of your finger tip; the burning sensation dulls a bit and he feels himself relax back onto the sheets, a soft hum rolling off his tongue before he manages to properly answer you. “Good, it’s good,” he hums out, as he further relaxes into your touch.
Eventually the stinging sensation completely subsides and he starts feeling empty with only your fingertip inside. “More, please more,” he grunts out hips subconsciously buck up into your hand.
“Such a demanding little thing” you say to him as a chuckle escapes your lips but you don’t waste a second working your finger deeper inside of him til you’re buried knuckles deep, and tactically grazing the wall of nerves that sends sparks of pleasure through his body, specially down to his dick.”Mmph-God! Just- ah just like that”
This isn’t something he’s felt before, your touch feels ever so intoxicating especially when your calloused finger grazes the sensitive wall of nerves and before he realizes what he’s doing he finds himself begging for more, greedy as ever and drunk on pleasure.
It doesn’t take much before you fulfill his wish, pushing two fingers past his puckered rim, the stinging sensation briefly returning , as he gets used to the feeling of having two thick digits inside of him. “Come on sweetheart, you can take it yeah? I know you can” he hears you say, familiar word spilling past your lips and for a brief seconds he imagines the times he’d been the one to say it when he had someone under him.
Eager to prove himself, he starts fucking himself back onto your digits, something that starts off slow as he gets used to the stretch before he increases the pace. “Ugh fuck - fuck feels so so good yes yes yes!!”
By this point he doesn’t register when you work a third finger inside of him, only registering the fullness that comes with it and the way your hand slides between his legs, gently palming his ballsack
“Look at you love, haven’t even fucked you yet you’re already so close to cumming,” You say , puncturing every word with a thrust to his prostate while tugging at his hard and weeping dick.
Francis couldn’t care less about the fact that you’re taunting him, couldnt care less about how pathetic he looks like this, all he can care about is how every thrust - every stroke, has him inching closer to his orgasm.
“Please oh god please -“ He cries out, begs and pleads sounding something akin to a mantra, fingers practically digging holes into the mattress and the muscles in his thighs cramping up from how hard he’s fucking himself onto your hand.
It doesn’t take much before he feels his toes curl, pulse roaring in his ears as a wave of hot white pleasure washes over him.
“Ah ah God ‘m cumming ‘m cumming please-“ he cries out, feels himself spill all over the sheets and his thighs, body shaking as you continue to milk his cock.
“Stop- stop, please.” He finally slurs out, once there’s nothing but pathetic spurts of cum coming from his cock, hand blindly pushing you away from him before he finally slumps down onto the mattress.
Exhaustion creeps up his bones, eyelids feeling heavier than ever and all of a sudden he feels himself fading away in the dream land.
“Ah, ah ah,” he hears you say, the sound of your sharp voice snapping him awake. “We’re not done here,”
#that’s not my neighbor#that’s not my neighbor milkman#that’s not my neighbor milkman x reader#that’s not my neighbor milkman x male reader#francis mosses#Francis mosses x reader#Francis mosses x male reader#milkman x reader#milkman x male reader#dom male reader#sub male character#top male reader#bottom male character#x reader#male reader#x male reader
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Saw jockchan x nerd reader. I was wondering if you could write something about swim captain Chan x quiet female reader ?
pairing: SwimCaptain!Chan x Quiet!fem!Reader
t/w: smut ; semi-public sex ; secret relationship ; oral (f!rec) ; jealousy ; exhibitionism kink (but no exhibitionism) ; unprotected sex (be smarter, don’t do that).
w/c: around 1,8k
a/n: It’s 1:45 a.m. here, I’m going to sleep now. Hope you like it! ♡
18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
There are 25 minutes left until the end of the training session when you arrive.
"Come see me at training today, it will bring me luck for tomorrow’s championship." This was his sweet request this afternoon, and you naturally said yes; it's just a pity that you arrived an hour late.
Your quick steps to take a seat in the stands can’t be heard by the guys as they talk near the pool, but Chan notices you the moment you enter.
His head turns in your direction and he smiles at you, waving a hand at you. You do the same, returning the greeting.
Immediately, his eyes shift to Changbin and Jisung though, members of the team, who seem to be arguing, and he approaches them.
It doesn’t take you long to understand that they were arguing about who is the fastest swimmer of the two, as shortly after they are giving each other challenging looks as they get into position and enter the water when Chan gives them the signal.
You like seeing him in leader mode in moments like this. It’s extremely hot, but also really cute when he turns in your direction to look at you, shaking his head in exasperation, making you giggle.
But your attention shifts a little further away from you when you hear a girl speaking.
"Did you see him? Now you can’t say he isn’t gorgeous." One of the two girls says to the other.
“He’s freaking perfect, oh my God,” the other girl comments. “What did you say his name was?”
“Bang Chan; I’ll give you his Instagram.”
Your teeth clench at the last sentence. Are they talking about Chan? Your Chan?
The same Chan who kisses, fucks, and cuddles you every day?
You briefly consider letting them know. You should turn to them and tell them to their faces, but there’s something holding you back, keeping you still. And this thing prohibits you from letting them know how things really are, so you sit there in silence, enduring their annoying compliments about him for what feels like endless minutes.
Yes, his body and muscles are stunning. Yes, his voice is sensual and his laugh is sweet. Yes, he has an irresistible gaze. Do they really need to keep repeating that?
When the training ends and you think you’ve finally gotten rid of them, they’re in front of him before you can make a move.
You watch them from afar, standing and waiting, trying to appear as normal and indifferent as possible while they congratulate the captain for his hard work as a leader. Ah, and also for his hard work in the gym.
He chuckles with his dimples showing, first shaking his hands in front of himself in a gesture of denial, but ending up scratching the back of his neck as he thanks them cordially. The two girls look at each other and giggle.
But a few minutes later, it’s you who finds yourself in the locker room with him, his hands on your hips and his lips on yours, feverish and needy.
“Were you jealous?” He grins teasingly, but deep down he feels immense tenderness and perhaps a little embarrassment knowing that you love him so much that you can’t stand other girls complimenting him in that way.
You don’t respond, looking at his bare chest and hoping he’ll stop.
His smile grows, “I saw how you were looking at them, your eyes were burning flames.” He stifles a chuckle as you raise your head with a guilty expression.
“Was I that obvious?” You ask, your cheeks starting to blush, embarrassed by your exaggerated reaction.
“Yes, but I like it.” He leans in to kiss you again, but soon his hands slip under your shirt and you break the kiss.
“Chan, we can’t do this here.” you whisper against his lips. All the other guys from the team are just meters away, taking a shower. You risk being heard, and you don’t want that to happen.
“But I need you now.” he whispers on your neck, starting to leave warm, wet kisses.
You don’t respond, but you tilt your head to give him more space and don’t stop him, and he takes this action as agreement.
He licks and sucks on a patch of your skin, leaving a red mark that will be prominently displayed for days. He might get completely hard just at the thought of you walking around with the mark of his presence on your body, even if others don’t know whose it is.
He pulls away and admires it, then gives it one final kiss, making you hiss from the slight pain.
Needy, his hand grabs yours and pulls you into the bathroom. You don’t resist; you follow him, silent, and together you enter one of the showers, closing the curtain. The one in the corner, with an empty shower next to it.
And then, Chan turns on the water, wetting both of you, although not completely.
“Chan, you finally came in, why did it take you so long?” Changbin yells from a few showers away.
“I just had a moment with Y/n.” Chan responds casually, as if he weren’t currently lowering your shorts and underwear at the same time.
“Oh, she’s already gone?” This time it’s Jisung’s voice.
“Yeah, she went back to the dorm.”
There’s something, something that arouses both of you at the idea that you’re doing something you shouldn’t be doing while his friends are there, just meters away from you, unaware.
His fingers move skilfully between your folds, rubbing your clit with one finger quickly while two of his other fingers hold your pussy lips open as your hips move back and forth instinctively.
When his fingers enter your cunt, they do so easily from how wet you are and from all the times his cock has been inside you.
You take his face in your hands to bring your lips closer to his ear so you can talk to him, “We don’t have time, put it in already.” You whisper, and his cock twitches in the tight shorts he’s wearing, reminding him of how damn tight they feel.
He withdraws his fingers and turns you around, replacing them with his dick, entering you slowly to allow you to more easily suppress any sounds that could be heard by the others.
His hands hold the lower parts of your cheeks to spread them apart to get in deeper as he moves inside you. It’s not the best position, but you can’t bend over because you’d risk slipping.
Your moans are silent. Your heavy breaths are fortunately hard to hear with the shower water running and their voices humming.
Chan tries not to fuck you too hard to avoid the sound of your skins slapping together. Because you’re not alone, and no one must hear you. Even though, maybe, he actually wants someone to hear you. He wants someone to find out about the dirty things you’re doing without their knowledge, right there near them. Maybe he secretly wishes someone would open the shower curtain and see you in this situation.
And maybe you want it too.
But these thoughts don’t stop both of you from freezing at the sudden sound of Hyunjin’s voice. “Does anyone have shower gel?”
His movements pause only for a moment. He should feel embarrassed, mortified to hear his friend’s voice so close to you in such a situation, but instead, it sends a jolt of pleasure to his cock, and he immediately starts moving again.
You look at him with an expression now fearful, but this arouses you as much as it does him.
Jeongin’s voice is quick to respond, “I do, here it is.”
“Thanks Jeonginnie, love you.” Hyunjin thanks him in his sweet voice.
Chan pulls out of you, but before you have time to say anything, he turns you around, grabs your thighs from behind, and lifts you, pushing you against the wall. His arms slide under your knees and spread you open, re-entering you.
“That’s better.” he whispers against your lips, and you nod in agreement with quick breaths.
The pleasure intensifies for both of you. A soft moan escapes his lips, not being able to hold it back, causing him to bite his lower lip and hide his face on your shoulder, his ears turning redder as he failed to contain his pleasure.
Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling strands, causing his hips to buck up in a harder thrust, making your head slide back against the shower tiles.
It’s at this moment that the others start coming out of the showers, and soon they are out of the locker room after greeting Chan and telling him to hurry up.
When everyone is out, you both look at each other, then chuckle.
“I couldn’t hold back anymore.” you admit.
“Me neither.” he says.
“I noticed.” you tease, and he looks at you with narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows in an offended look.
You clench around him on purpose, eliciting a needy moan from his lips. In response, he thrusts into you, and this time it’s you who whines.
“You’re as needy as I am.” he grins, resuming his movements. This time you’re a bit freer to let out your voice, but you need to hurry. His thrusts are faster now, reaching deeper spots inside you, being able to fuck you harder, eliciting a series of staccato moans from you.
“Touch yourself.” he orders and you immediately obey, without needing to be told twice.
His movements become more erratic. He’s close, and you can tell by the way his cock twitches inside you and releases small droplets of pre-cum.
His moans grow deeper, and he closes his eyes, trying to hold back from coming with all the self-control he has to make you reach your climax too, with him. But it’s difficult for him, and soon he has you back on your feet, giving a few final thrusts before pulling out of you and stroking his cock quickly through his orgasm.
He tries not to throw his head back in pleasure, wanting to see the ropes of his hot cum covering your pussy and thighs as you stand there with trembling legs.
Your mind is still fogged with pleasure, and you don’t notice what’s happening until you feel his tongue on your clit, which makes you let out a whimper. You look down to see your boyfriend on his knees with his head between your legs, looking up at you.
You run your fingers through his hair, and he pulls away, “You need to come quickly, someone will be coming for spot checks soon.” He warns you before returning with his tongue between your folds and two fingers inside you, stroking at your sensitive spot.
#bang chan#bang chan smut#bang chan x reader#bang chan fanfic#bang chan x reader smut#bang chan hard hours#stray kids x reader#stray kids fanfic#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader smut#bang chan hard thoughts#anon ask ♡
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You’re the Risk, I’ll Take it
Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader
Summary: The three times Spencer followed advice and the one time he didn't (or as I'd like to better explain it, the three times Spencer fails to flirt and the one time it worked)
Warning: fluff! Just fluff!
A/n: I wanted to write something cute this time with Season 1 Spencer in mind--one of the best eras if you ask me. Hopefully I did him justice in this. The idea of this cute baby boy trying to flirt is too precious honestly. Also, if a guy did the last act for me, I'd fold like a lawn chair, yep. Risk by Gracie Abrams was on repeat while I was writing this and no proof reading was done. Let me know what you think!
Main masterlist
The first move Spencer tried was advised by Derek Morgan, the renowned ladies man
“Kid, admit it. You like her,” Morgan pestered him with a slight smile on his face.
Spencer scoffed, trying to throw him off from the truth but monumentally failing. “S-she’s my closest friend. We joined the team at the same time, of course I feel most comfortable with her,” he noted his companion’s eyebrows raising higher and higher with each word. “Plus, she likes hearing what I say even if it has no relation to the case. She asks me questions and genuinely remembers.”
Now it was Morgan’s turn to scoff. “You could be talking about Star Trek and it’s physics mistakes and she’ll still hang on to every word you say.”
“Actually, there aren’t that many scientific errors in Star Trek. Especially considering—”
“Reid.”
“Right,” he nodded once, trying to push away the urge to continue further. “That still doesn’t mean I like her.”
Morgan tapped the wheel twice before turning to face his partner. “Then answer me this. How do you feel when she walks through the office doors?”
“Happy, I get the same feeling when I see you or Elle come in too,” he found his fingers very interesting then. Like they held the key to unlocking the mysteries of Dark Matter and the answer to the controversial scientific theory ‘Do parallel universe exist?’. He wasn’t telling the whole truth—didn’t want to because how could he, a man of science, explain the other bodily reactions he has when you walk in a room. How he hears his heart stutter in his chest with just a glimpse of you—the first time it happened, he thought nothing of it, but by the third, he considered making an appointment with a specialist for possible heart arrhythmia. How he sees the room brighten when you smile in his direction—perhaps light sensitivity, and how he feels his body heat up when you utter the words ‘Good morning, Spence.’—possibly hot flashes. Self diagnosis that he ruled out once he found you to be the common denominator. That left him with a riddle, a personal conundrum he lost countless of sleep over trying to solve.
“That’s a lie, Reid. You can’t be that happy to see me. You never blush like a tomato when I enter the room. For Greenaway, I could see it but for me, nu-uh,” he argued back. “Okay, what about when she’s not there, what do you feel then?”
“Sad, similar to how I’d react with you and Elle,” he blurted out another half truth. Another surface level answer that doesn’t fully cover how lost he feels without your comforting presence beside him, how gloomy any room he enters in without you in it, and how incomplete his days were without hearing your voice.
Morgan snickered. “Lies, you have to learn how to lie better to fool an FBI profiler, Reid. You don’t think I—the team, notice that you’re quieter when she isn’t on the case with us?”
“Wait. Wait, the whole team?” His voice goes up an octave. You were part of the team, did that mean you knew of the effect you had on him too? “D-Does everyone have the same idea as you do? Everyone?”
“Not everyone, kid. Your secret is still safe,” He smiled wide like a cat that caught the canary. “So it’s true then, you like her.”
Spencer knew there was no escape from trap, he was just glad that his secret still remained classified from the other party involved. His shoulders sagged as he nodded to confirm Morgan’s findings.
“So what’s your play then?”
His head whipped to face his companion so fast he felt his meticulously styled hair escape the confines of his ears. “Play? There’s no play. Nothing. I’m not going to do anything and this conversation stays between us.”
“Oh c’mon lover boy, you have to do something,” Morgan challenged. “Y’know she likes you back, right?”
“No she doesn’t! I mean, why would she?” Spencer rambled on, unable to comprehend what Morgan was saying. “She’s her—beautiful, smart, and cool. Every case we get, there’s at least one police officer hitting on her. And I’m me—I talk too much and get awkward in every situation. The exact opposite!”
“Reid, don’t sell yourself short. She likes you, trust me on this.” He paused, listening to the update on the intercom before continuing on. “So here’s what you’re going to do. Compliment her outfit, girls appreciate that. Easy enough, don’t you think?”
Spencer really didn’t think so after all he had the tendency to go off on a tangent whenever he talks to you but he agrees nonetheless. If Morgan believes he could do it then he couldn’t mess it up, right?
———
Wrong. It was wrong to take Morgan’s advice. Never mind he can recall everything he has ever read, never mind he has an IQ of 187. What good were his talents if he, Dr. Spencer Reid, couldn’t string the proper sentences along?
It started when you walked into the office wearing this light yellow blouse that made you more radiant than he thought possible. It was as if the a ray of sun had graced the bullpen and stunned his mind into silence, rendering him tongue-tied. All his monologues and hypothesis bouncing around his overactive brain fell away and the only thing he could think of was how pretty you look.
Morgan cleared his throat, bringing him back to the living. Spencer averted his awestruck gaze and busied himself with an imaginary lint on his red sweater.
“Hey Y/N, did anything good this weekend?” Morgan asked as you settled into your desk adjacent to his.
You shrugged nonchalantly and teased back. “I bet it wasn’t good as yours, Morgan. Picked anyone up last Friday or are your charms no longer working?”
“Huh, i see where this is going. Somebody woke up on the wrong side of bed today.”
Morgan chanced a peek at Spencer and internally groaned. How you didn’t notice the kid’s crush on you was beyond him—all the staring and blushing he does when you’re near was a dead giveaway.
“Reid. Reid,” Morgan called out.
He closed his mouth and gulped. “Hm, what?”
Morgan pointedly stared at him and titled his head towards your direction. A movement lost to you as you noted Elle leaving Gideon’s office.
Spencer opened his mouth to catch your attention but before he could even utter your name, Elle intervened. “Question for you, the foot path killer. Why’d he stutter?”
You swiveled to face her, not having caught Spencer’s intent to speak to you. The unit chief then called them in for a case—an arson case in a university campus. His shoulders drooped as they rushed to the jet afterwards with no chance of small talk.
When there was a lull in the plane—case discussion finished, he steeled his already apprehensive nerves and took the chance, quickly wishing he hadn’t.
“S-so, your shirt’s yellow,” he stated out loud like it was some sort of revelation.
“Yes,” you drawled out, unsure as to where he was going with this. “That’s right, Spencer.”
He drummed his fingers on the table and continued on. “Did you know that airplanes tend to avoid the color yellow as it causes dizziness and nausea? A number of studies have shown those exact results and that’s why it’s almost never used in interiors of various forms of transportation and rarely use in advertising. It’s like how the red is the most common color used by restaurants as it psychologically makes the viewer hungry.”
You looked down on your top. Yellow was one of your favorites and you specifically chose this as Penelope said and you quote, it looks good on you, brings out your eyes. Boy genius would probably react to it too so naively you splurged on it. But this—this wasn’t the response you were hoping for. “Spence, are you saying my shirt is making you feel nauseous?”
He blushed and stammered out a strong refusal. “What, no! No! I—I meant to say—you, you look nice.”
You giggled under your breath, finding his long-winded route to giving you a compliment cute. “Nice nice or airsickness nice?”
“Nice! Just nice!” He defended on, his voice cracking at the end. He caught Morgan’s wide eyed gaze then as if he couldn’t believe what train wreck he just witnessed.
Cheeks heating up further, Spencer slouched in his seat and busied himself with the files wishing that he could build a memory eraser so he could wipe the events from his and the team’s minds or better yet, a time machine to redo the whole thing all over again.
The second move Spencer tried was advised by Elle Greenaway, the new recruit
“Do you think it’s weird that I knew that ballad?” He questioned during one of their cases in San Diego. It bothered him since the start of the case. How Morgan had teased him about his incapability of asking out the opposite sex. Never mind that you defended him right back, that’s a lie, it made him feel special that you did but the joke was still true. A cold stone truth.
Elle laughed, flipping her phone repeatedly on the table while waiting for the unsub to take the bait. “I don’t know how you know half the stuff you know, but I’m glad you do.”
“Do you think that’s why I can’t get a date?” He asked as he fiddled with the unfinished Rubik’s cube in his hands.
“Have you ever asked her out?”
There was no need to ask who Elle was referring to, everyone knew of his innocent—well maybe not so innocent at times specifically during his state of dreaming—crush for the second youngest member of the team. He shifted his eyes to focus a few tables before his—at you, sitting beside JJ. “No."
“That’s why you can’t get a date.”
One of the precincts phone then rang, it was the unsub, causing him to table that conversation in his vast memory.
———
There’s an English saying that states ‘the second time is the charm’ and Spencer was hoping there were some truth to the idiom even with no scientific explanation to back it up.
A few cases after San Diego, he got an opening that he was unexpectedly looking for. The team was on their way back from a case in Virginia. It was late and the profilers were all tucked in their little corners of the jet decompressing while you and Spencer were huddled on the sofa quietly discussing Doctor Who.
“How could you say your favorite is the Ninth Doctor when you haven’t even seen the older episodes?” He rambled, clearly he would have to do something about your limited knowledge in the great universe of Doctor Who. He’d like to explain it all, 695 episodes of the classic era to you. He’d take any topic really just to have your interest.
You stared into his hazel speckled eyes and smiled, amused by his reaction. “It’s a bit hard to catch up on a show that’s been around since the 70s. Plus, it’s a challenge to look for copies.”
“Actually, the show started in the 60s—1963, to be exact,” he clarified. “Garcia has copies we could borrow and watch together. If that’s—” he cleared his throat and clenched his fists closed, feeling his nails dig into his palms. “—that’s alright with you. If—if not, there’s a convention happening this weekend. I have an extra ticket, if you want to come with—only if you’re not busy, I mean.”
“And risk you spoiling every episode to me? I’d rather watch it alone, if you don’t mind.”
That dragged his optimism to a crash as if a twenty ton weight landed on his chest, rendering him immovable. Of course you were going to say no. There was no proof that you’d reciprocate his interests—he inwardly cursed himself for believing otherwise.
“But, I’d like to go with you to the convention,” you said and silently added as your date to yourself, shifting in your seat with a blush blooming on your cheeks at the thought. “Always wanted to go to one. If you’re fine with me not being in a costume. I think it’ll be too late to find one, don’t you think?”
Just like that, the weight on his chest lifted, making him feel weightless with glee. A wide smile grew on his face, threatening to burst his cheeks as he shook his head. “That’s alright! But you—you can always dress up as Rose!”
You titled your head to the side. “Rose?”
“You know, the Ninth Doctor’s companion?”
“I know who she is, Spence. I just thought you didn’t watch the revived series?”
He softly scoffed. “I never said that! I watched it too, mainly to compare it to the classics but I’ve seen it.”
You leaned in, wanting to ask about his opinion on it. “Well, what do you think? I happen to be part of the minority who think the actor who reprised the role did alright.”
He liked seeing you like this. It made him feel like a puppy who had his owner’s undivided attention. All wide eyed and interested in his conjectures as to why the actor was alright himself but the problems were his short stint—making people vilify him over that decision—and the material some of the writers came up with. He appreciated you nodding along and supplying your own thoughts on the subject. It warmed his heart that here was a beautiful, smart, and cool person—way out of his league, he might add—giving her precious time away to discuss a nerdy sci-fi show that he could not rant and rave to about to anyone on the team, except for Penelope, and she’s rarely on the field with them.
Your show of interest made him feel seen. Not as an agent with 3 PHDs, not as a genius with 187 IQ, but rather as a person with a right to express himself and occupy space. He wasn’t Agent Spencer Reid with you nor Dr. Spencer Reid, he was just Spencer who likes to watch Doctor Who and read literature in their original language.
The third move Spencer did was proposed by Penelope Garcia, the spirited tech analyst
“What do you mean you took her to a convention? For a date?” Penelope squeaked out, unable to comprehend the logic behind the genius’ actions.
“She said she always wanted to go,” Spencer stated as the elevator stopped on the fourth floor. He had fun over the weekend. Going around booths with you, listening to invited guest panels talk about the behind the scenes, explaining the reference every costume that you’ve pointed out, and just basking in your presence beyond cases. It was a memory he had replayed over and over after it had ended. It occupied his whole mind, and that’s saying a lot, causing him to do nothing and sit in his leather sofa and smile like a lunatic during the rest of the weekend.
“Well yeah, but that’s not date material! A date is supposed to be intimate—you and I go to conventions together, do you count that as a date?”
“What? No! No, of course not!”
“Exactly, boy wonder. Then what makes you think she’ll count that as a date?” She countered back as she entered her office with Spencer in tow.
Silence. Oh.
Penelope sighed, having read the despair painting his face. “Did you at least dress up as the Ninth Doctor?”
“What? No. No, I went as the Fourth Doctor. I even hand-knitted the scarf myself.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before repeating what she just heard. “You didn’t dress up as her Doctor?”
“No,” he paused, unsure where she was going with this. “Should I had?”
“Yes! Yes, you should have!” Penelope slapped his arm out of frustration. “Why didn’t you call me once she said yes? We could have talked game plan or strategy or at least have gotten you a leather jacket to match her choice of companion.”
“Oh, I messed up then, didn’t I?” He slumped despondently on the office chair. “You—you don’t think she thought of it as a date at all?”
She played with her feathered pen, trying to find a way to salvage it for Spencer. “Did you take her out to dinner after?”
He shook his head, finally realizing his mistake.
“Oh Spencer,” she approached gently. “I can scoop for details with Y/N later on and report back to you?”
He shook his head. It didn’t feel right to have Penelope betray your trust and go behind your back over a mistake that he made. You were a honest person and you deserved to be treated with respect and reverence even though all he wanted now was peer into your viewpoint of the date—not date—and figure out once and for all if you saw him as anything beyond a co-worker and a friend.
“Hm, I think I might just a solution,” Penelope blurted out of the blue.
He looked up with a sliver of hope blooming in his chest. Maybe third time’s the charm. Besides, Penelope was the colleague you spent most of your time out with. You once mentioned that you considered her your best friend, besides from him of course.
“You can bake her a batch of cookies! No one can say no to that,” she excitedly explained, believing it to be full proof—except for the fact that he doesn’t know how to bake. He wants to ask you out on a date but not to the expense of burning his whole apartment building down.
“I can’t—I can’t bake, Garcia,” he squeaked out. “Did you know that 44% of all reported home fires are caused by cooking and baking. Those fires have resulted in an average of 470 civilian deaths and 4,150 civilian—”
She interrupted. “I’ll give you my recipe and detailed instructions to follow. That’ll make it easy peasy for you, boy genius.”
“C-can’t I just buy from her favorite bakery instead?”
“No can do, Doctor. Her favorite cookies just so happen to be my creation. She told me so herself.”
“Well, can’t I just ask you to make it for me? I’ll buy the ingredients!”
“Nope,” she dragged out her refusal. “Think of it as an act of service to her. Plus don’t you think it’s highly romantic when she finds out that you baked them yourself?” She swooned just thinking about it.
“Romantic? It won’t be romantic when I burn my apartment down, Garcia.”
She sighed. “Fine, I’ll supervise if you want. This weekend, granted if we’re free. But you—” she pointed her feathered pen at him. “—better be prepared and I’m just supervising, okay? I’m not baking it myself.”
He sighed. At least having Garcia around would make it easier.
———-
It did not in fact make it easier. Spencer burnt two batches before six pieces were considered edible. Garcia couldn’t understand, hell, he also couldn’t. Baking was precise and from his scientific viewpoint, it was a lot like chemistry. He loved science and anything academic, so how is it that he failed miserably, twice, when it came to baking?
He shook his head as he entered the office. The first one—he stole a glance at Hotch’s office and saw movement—correction, the second one arriving early. Sometimes he wondered if the unit chief ever goes home, first in and last out.
He settled in his seat before promptly fidgeting from anticipation. Statistically speaking, you arrive earlier than Morgan or Elle which gave him enough time to gift the paper bag of cookies sitting hidden in his satchel without bringing attention to and embarrassing himself. He’d like to have little to no audience if he ever does mess it up for the third time.
He brought out the cookies, afraid they’ll get crushed between his hardbound books, and placed them on your desk before standing to wash his clammy hands and make coffee. Counter intuitive of him to do as he was already a bundle of nerves and by drinking caffeine he was doubling that but maybe the smell would calm him before shooting up his energy by drinking.
As he exited the mens room, Penelope stepped out of the elevator and squealed. “Is she here? Is she? Did I miss it?”
He shook his head vigorously, trying to silence her excited glees. “No, she’s not here yet. She’ll—” he looked at his watch and ran the numbers. “—be here soon. I’m about to brew coffee. Do you want some?” He opened the door for both of them to enter the bullpen.
“Ick, no thanks,” Penelope said, scrunching her nose at the thought of drinking even a sip before scurrying away to her cave. “I’d rather not ruin my taste buds on bad coffee.”
He laughed and turned towards the kitchenette. With the coffee brewing, he drummed his fingers on the counter and mentally rehearsed what he would say to you. If he practiced, there’s less chance of messing it up like the first time, right? In his state of concentration, he missed you entering the office in all of your beautiful glory.
“Ooh cookies!” you exclaimed as you opened the unknown package on your table.
Spencer abruptly turned, hitting his side on the corners as he did. His eyes widened as he registered you holding the unsigned paper bag of treats on your desk.
“They must be from Penny,” You continued on, oblivious to his presence and the devastation your remark caused him. Of course, he’d find another way to mess it up. You glanced around and your smile widened as you took in his handsome presence. “Oh hey Spence! Look, Penny made me cookies!” You tip-toed out of excitement.
He smiled at your enthusiasm for something as simple as treats in the morning. The giggle you gave out as you entered the kitchenette was enough for him to slightly care less for the truth. He loved bringing out the happiness in you. It was like his own personal sunshine shining down on him, soaking him with vitamin D and boosting his overall sense of wellbeing. “Do you want coffee with that? It’s still hot,” he offered.
You tapped the side of your hips with his as a sign of good will. “Thanks, Spence! This is turning out to be a great day, don’t you think?”
He watched as you busied yourself with putting cream and sugar in your of cup and sighed wistfully. “I think so too.”
And the last move Spencer did was recommended by no one but himself, the awkward 187 genius
With all three acts not delivering, he promised to try one last time without any outside interference besides from yours in his memory. You always did tell him to be himself in any situation, no matter how much he stumbled through any awkward situation—always there giving him a pat on the back for encouragement.
Over the weekend, he spent his time reading two of your favorite books—which didn’t take much but he did read them again and again, regardless of his eidetic memory, trying to understand why these specific books were your comfort. Always pushed within the confines of your go bag, dog-eared and brown from age. He wanted to know how they’ve become an extension of you and how it had shaped you to the woman he has fallen in love with.
He found himself hunched over his dining table, underlining sentences that made him think of you, scribbling away on the margins (and sometimes on post its too), and tabbing the written pages with a variety of colors that each represent an emotion. The act in it of itself made him feel closer to you than he thought possible. Lines in the books that made him think, ah so this was what formed your kind spirit. This is why your empathy knew no bounds. And this is why your beauty is inside and out.
Spencer laid down to rest, anxious for the next day, Monday, to come. His heart threatening to beat out of his chest but his mind oddly calm as if it had a precognition that everything would turn out just right.
———
You arrived earlier than he did, throwing him off balance.
“Hey Spence!” You greeted with a smile. “I got you a croissant and some coffee from that shop near my place.”
He blushed and stammered out a thank you. You were wearing a deep purple blouse that matched the scarf around his neck—the birthday gift you’ve given. He was no believer of the mystics but he took all of these as a sign from the stars. There was no way he would mess this up now.
“I—I got you something too,” he looked inside his satchel, hands shaking from it all. Gods, he wished this would go well or else, he might just die from embarrassment. “It’s nothing much but—I read your two favorite books and just—I wanted to discuss it with you,” he brought out the tabbed copies and presented them to you. “These are for you. I know you have copies of your own but I-I put my own notes on which lines reminded me of you.”
Your face turned red at the notion behind it all. Here was the BAU genius, the certified lover of the classics and the academia, the man who had your affections since day one, reading two contemporary literatures just for him to present you a gift like no other. You reached out and hugged the precious copies to your chest.
“Thank you, no one’s ever done this for me before,” you breathed out, falling deeper into attraction with the perfection in front of you. “ Hey Spence, I may sound delusional asking this and you can say no if you want to but—” you visibly gulped, unaware of the audience nearby. “—would you like to have dinner with me? I make a mean lasagna.”
He turned red and vigorously nodded. “Y-Yes. Yes, I’d love to have dinner with you.”
You giggled, sounding like wind chimes to his ears. He did too, giggle I mean, from the triumph of finally knowing that his feelings were willingly reciprocated.
“Finally, you love birds!” Morgan shouted as he swung his arm around Spencer. “Didn’t know how much we could take from this pretty boy—” pointing at him “asking for advice and you—” pointing at you “—pretty girl is as dense as a rock. Tell me again how’d you end up as profiler with those observation skills.”
A hand whacked him at the back. “Way to ruin the moment, Morgan.” Elle chided before turning to Spencer with a smile. “See told you, you could get a date.”
#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#gw fics
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He has a feeling that the new girl running the front desk at the gym is going to be a problem—a distraction disguised in a gym uniform polo and khaki pants.
It starts with you smiling too brightly as he walks in one morning, all teeth and that little twinkle in your eye that feels like trouble when you scan his membership card.
“Good morning, Mr. Riley.”
“It’s just Simon,” he tells you as he takes his card off the counter.
The following day, it’s the same, except Johnny is there to make it worse.
He nudges Simon with his elbow. “She’s kinda pretty, huh?”
“Say it any louder, and she’ll hear you, mate,” he grumbles.
Simon’s not blind; of course, he knows you’re pretty, but he doesn’t have time to commit to anything outside of work—even if you smile at him like you’re happy to see him and how he’ll think about it later: on missions, at his desk, during morning runs. His head is nothing short of woven webs with thoughts of you stuck in the middle.
Honestly, it’s that you—
(You try to make small talk with him every morning, and Simon is starting to think it’s just for him because on the days he doesn’t come alone, you merely scan his card and go back to reading the open paperback book on the desk.)
It’s weird because it’s almost like you—
(He bumps into you at the supermarket and makes a dumb joke about carrots that makes you laugh. It makes him a little tongue-tied and awkward afterward because he realizes he hasn’t talked to a woman outside of only wanting a quick fuck in a really long time, but more importantly, he wants to hear it again.
Instead, he tosses potatoes in his cart and walks away.)
He tells himself it means nothing, or not how Simon wants it to.
You’re just…he’s not even sure; acquaintances? Maybe more than that, but less than friends. Somewhere in that odd in-between phase where he only knows bits and pieces but not the whole picture.
Sometimes, he wishes—
(Simon doesn’t know what he’s doing the first time he invites you to meet the guys from work on a night out. He’s dated around a few times and had his fair share of hook-ups, but this isn’t like that. His palms are sweaty, more than usual, and no amount of wiping them on the thighs of his jeans keeps them dry.
Then you walk into the bar in a dress that’s probably too light for early spring in London—even though he stares appreciatively at the long expanse of your legs as you walk up to the table—and he wishes he wasn’t introducing you as his friend.)
But you—
(A new development happens after you slip him your phone number on one of the gym’s business cards—it’s weird that we don’t have each other’s numbers, so message me sometime or whatever—and he messages you ‘hey’ right before he leaves for a mission a few days later.
It slowly shifts and changes over time.
You start sending him texts in the morning. Never an actual good morning text, but of the dogs you take on walks, the sunrise, the new flower box in your window. Somehow, it’s better.)
You really are—
(His house feels too hot, and he’s distracted from the movie by how close you are, how your leg drapes over his under the blanket, fingers fisting into his sweater at his stomach that clenches. An ache that grows, throbbing, spreading from his abdomen to his groin.
It feels monumental—something more than the gentle touch to the elbow to squeeze by each other in his entryway earlier or giving you his jacket that night at the bar—a tilt of the axis that makes the messy pieces fall neatly into place.
He must be staring because you glance up at him, smiling, and the sound from the TV turns into white noise in the background.
“Can I…would you—fucking hell,” Simon runs a hand through his hair. “Can I kiss you?”
When your lips press against his, and his hands are pulling you onto his lap, where you settle hotly against his dick tenting in his jeans, he wonders why neither of you has done this before. Just kissing—him licking the seam of your mouth, and you panting his name.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” you mumble, lips brushing his.
“Me too,” and he fists his hand into the hair at your nape and pulls you back to his mouth.)
“I knew you’d be trouble,” he tells you one day, glaring at the bloke further down the bar who tried making a swipe at your ass before Simon showed up, towering over his shoulder with your fruity cocktail in hand.
“Oh, yeah?” you giggle, leaning into his side.
“Yeah,” the corners of his mouth quirk, though he hides it when he presses a kiss against your temple. “A real pain in my ass, love.”
“But yours.”
This time, he does smile. “Yes, but mine.”
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