#and take some painkillers for your back!!!
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Life is Changin' Tides, ch. 4 🌊
[Ch. 1]
[Ch. 2]
[Ch. 3]
[Read on AO3]
Sal is exactly where Tommy left him; sitting up on the bed, a pained look on his face as he frantically looks around. "The second he spots Tommy and Vivie, his face is taken over with relief, and Tommy can see how desperately he wishes to get up, but he doesn't. He just grips the sheets, staring at them intensely, his face going from anxious to relieved.
"Vivie!" He exclaims, and Tommy's daughter raises her head so fast that he worries she’ll have whiplash."
-
Everyone reunites. There's a lot of apologizing. There's a little bit of oversharing (it's the painkiller's fault).
When Tommy wished for a guardian angel watching over Genevieve, he didn’t think the universe would take him so literally. Because this man, this Evan? With earnest big blue eyes, blond curls, a pink birthmark that looks almost like a heart against his eyebrow? Yeah, that’s an angel he’s looking at.
He doesn’t have much of a chance to look at him, though, because as soon as Tommy thanks him, the man promptly passes out in front of them.
“Buck!” Captain Nash exclaims in surprise, and extends his arms to support him. His eyes are furrowed in concern, and both Hen and Howie are also fussing over Evan. Tommy has never seen this man before, but it’s clear they all know and care about him.
Thankfully there’s an empty bed close, and Nash lays Evan in it with surprising gentleness, in a way that vaguely reminds Tommy of when he puts Vivie to bed. And speaking of which.
Tommy finally manages to stop hugging Genevieve for long enough that he can take a good look at her. Her beautiful yellow dress, a present from his Nonna, is filthy, covered in grime and dirt (thankfully no blood); her hair is matted and frizzy, escaping out of the pigtails Tommy’s done for her this morning, and she looks pale and exhausted. She’s still the most beautiful sight Tommy has ever laid his eyes upon, and he can’t get enough of looking at her.
“Vivie, oh my God, I was so worried!” He admits, placing a thousand kisses to her wet hair, her sweaty forehead, her flushed cheeks. “Are you okay, baby? Does anything hurt?” Tommy asks gently, checking her face and arms for bruises or cuts, but thankfully, probably thanks to this Evan angel, his baby girl looks perfectly unharmed.
“I’m fine, Daddy! But what happened to Mr. Evan?! Is he gonna be okay?!” She asks agitatedly, her arms firmly wrapped around Tommy’s neck. Her blue eyes are looking scaredly at Evan’s unconscious form, and Tommy rubs her back soothingly. Her grip around his neck tightens, seeking comfort that Tommy is more than happy to provide.
Howie, who looks a thousand times less worried once Hen hooks Evan up to a saline IV and it looks like he’ll be alright, rushes to them when he hears Vivie’s question. He smiles sweetly at her, and she smiles a little back at him.
“Hey, kiddo, don’t you worry about Buck, okay?” He tells her. “If I tell you a secret, do you promise not to tell him? Cause I don’t want his head getting too big.”
That gets a small giggle out of her, and Tommy would hug Howard if he didn’t have an armful of Genevieve. She nods eagerly, and looks curiously at the other man. Frankly, so does Tommy.
“Well, that guy?” He says, pointing at Evan, who still hasn’t woken up, but he’s lying peacefully now, his cheeks starting to get some flush in them. (God, he’s handsome, a treacherous part of Tommy’s brain says, and he promptly tells it to shut up). “Toughest guy I know. He survived a lot of crazy stuff, and he’ll be just fine, I promise.”
“For real?” She asks, and Howie nods as if he’s complete sure of himself.
“Totally for real.” He says, and winks at her. “He’s a survivor, just like your dad Tommy here.”
Tommy feels his cheeks flush, and he smiles gratefully at Howard. Vivie looks between them, curiosity clear in her face.
“You know my Daddy?! How?!” She asks in wonder, and Howie and Tommy smile at each other, but Howie points his hand at him, giving Tommy the chance to explain it to his kid.
“Actually, Vivie, mr. Howard here saved Daddy’s life once, can you believe it? Way before you were born.” He explains, and Vivie gasps.
“So mr. Howard is a hero too?!” She asks, notably impressed, and Howie shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck.
He’s saved from having to answer, though, because there is a man coming towards them with a boy, a bit older than Vivie, secure in his arms. The boy is looking at Evan, with eyes full of worry, and so is the man. With a jolt, Tommy recognizes him as the paramedic that was taking care of Sal earlier.
“Chim!”, the medic exclaims, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. He looks at Evan, who’s fidgeting slightly, but still has his eyes closed, and then back at Howie. “Is Buck alright?!”
“Will Buck be okay?!” The boy asks at the same time, his voice breaking as he sniffles.
His red hoodie is as dirty as Vivie’s clothes, and Tommy realizes he was probably caught in the tsunami too. He wonders briefly if the kid is Evan’s son, but then realizes he probably wouldn’t call him by a nickname if that was the case.
“Hey, Christopher, Buck will be fine, I promise.” Bobby is the one to answer, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “He’s just a little tired right now. But you can sit by his side until he wakes up, what do you think?”
“Can I, dad?” Christopher asks, and the medic that’s holding him nods, then puts him down by Evan’s bed. He takes Evan’s hand in his, gently squeezing it. Hen gently takes the pair of glasses that are hanging from Buck’s neck and places them on the boy’s face, and he smiles at her.
The familiarity between them makes Tommy realize that his father, the medic that took care of Sal, is with the 118, and the coincidence leaves him speechless. What brings him back to reality is the small tug on his shirt, and as he looks at Vivie, he realizes she’s asking him to put her down. Tommy does, and she goes straight to Christopher with a small smile.
“You’re Christopher, right?” She asks, and the boy nods at her, a frown on his face. “Mr. Evan was worried that you’d be mad at him because he lost you. But you’re not, right?”
“No!” Christopher exclaims, as if the mere idea of being mad at Evan is absurd. “He was trying to help people, it wasn’t his fault!”
“I told him that!” Vivie exclaims triumphantly. “I said he was a hero, and that you wouldn’t be mad.”
“How do you know Buck?” Christopher asks her curiously.
“He saved me! When I got lost from…” She trails off, and her little blue eyes widen as if she’s just remembered something important. Vivie turns back to Tommy, and he sees in alarm that she’s on the verge of tears. “Daddy!”
“What, pixie? What’s the matter?” Tommy asks hurriedly, picking her up again and holding her close, but it’s no good, she’s still agitated, clutching his shirt in her tiny hand.
“Uncle Sal got hurt! We need to find him! I was s-so happy to see you that I forgot, but we need to find him! Mr. Evan was going to help me, but now he can’t, and I don’t want uncle Sal to get more hurt!” She sobs against his shoulder, and Tommy shushes her, rubbing circles on her back and bouncing her slightly.
“Baby, it’s alright, shh.” He whispers to her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I found uncle Sal.”
She looks up at him, her sobs subsiding and her eyes widened in surprise.
“You did?!”
“Well, not me, but someone did and brought him here. But I’ve seen him, and he’s okay, I promise.” Tommy reassures her, and Vivie sobs once more, but it’s filled with relief this time.
“Daddy, do you promise? Can I see him?!” She asks, and Tommy nods right away.
“Of course you can, pixie. He’ll be so happy to see you.” He promises, and then turns to Howard, who’s been watching them with a fond smile. Tommy shifts Vivie so he can hold her with one arm and extends his hand for him. “Howie. Thank you so much. To all of you. I wouldn’t have found her if I hadn’t run into you” He says, looking at Captain Nash, Hen and the medic whose name he still doesn’t know.
“We’re just glad everything turned out okay, Tommy.” Captain Nash says warmly, and Tommy smiles at him.
Then, he looks at Evan’s still unconscious form on the bed, and back at the captain. He desperately wants to thank the man properly, but he knows Vivie won’t be settled until she sees Sal, and he knows his best friend is probably beside himself, wondering what’s happening to Tommy and her. Nash, however, seems to understand Tommy’s struggle, and nods at Tommy.
“Go. We’ll wait.” He reassures him, and Tommy nods gratefully at him.
“We’ll be back.” Tommy promises, and then he is gone, heading towards his best friend, his daughter safely in his arms thanks to the angel he’s leaving behind.
--
Buck doesn’t wake up all at once. Consciousness comes in small waves; at first he’s only aware of the sounds around him, the low murmur of familiar voices that allow him to come back slowly and steadily. Then, he becomes aware of the throbbing pain on his leg, which is stretched out. That’s how he realizes he’s lying down on scratchy sheets that feel very hospital-like (and yes, he wishes he wasn’t that familiar with what hospital sheets feel like). But as the events of the day come back to his memory, a sense of urgency forces him to full conscience, and his eyes open with a rush.
“Christopher! Genevieve!” Buck exclaims, and only when he tries to sit up on the bed does he feel the tug of a small warm hand against his.
“About time you woke up” Christopher says, and Buck looks at him with tear-filled eyes.
The young boy has his glasses back, and that signature smile that never fails to make Buck happy as well. He can’t understand why he’s still on the receiving end of it after everything that happened, though, or why Eddie is allowing Chris to be near him in the first place.
“Chris,” Buck says, sitting up on the bed, and taking Chris’ other hand in his. Because if this is the last time he’ll be allowed to be around him, he’s going to make it count. “Listen, buddy. I am so so sorry. I should have kept you safe, and I didn’t, and I…”
“Yeah, you did.” Chris argues, looking earnestly in Buck’s eyes, and he feels absolutely vulnerable under his gaze. “You kept me safe from the first wave, and you had me safe in the truck.”
“Yeah! But then I lost you!” He says, worried that Christopher is not understanding how bad Buck screwed up.
“Well, yeah, but you looked for me. A lot. Vivie told me. And she told me you thought I’d be mad, but I’m not. You’re still my favorite grown-up, Buck.”
Chris’ words and the way he’s looking back at Buck, like he’s still a hero, like Buck didn’t fail him, are too much. Buck blinks, trying to keep the tears at bay, but he can’t; the day has been too rough. Chris, however, seems to sense Buck’s emotions are getting the best of him; he wraps his small arms around Buck’s waist, resting his head against Buck’s chest. Buck hugs him back, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his curls.
“Thank you, bud. I’m so glad you’re safe.” He whispers, and Chris just hums at him.
“‘Favorite grown-up’, huh? I’m kinda jealous, gotta admit.”
When Buck hears Eddie’s voice, he lets go of Chris and looks up at his best friend, bracing himself for the anger in his eyes. But Eddie is smiling playfully at them, his posture relaxed. As Buck looks around, he faintly notices Hen and Bobby hovering near him, but he can’t talk to them before he apologizes to Eddie; that has to be his priority.
“Eddie! I am so sorry, man, I can’t even begin to…”
“Then don’t.” Eddie says softly, placing a hand on Buck’s shoulder and squeezing it. “Don’t even begin, because you have nothing to apologize for. He’s here, and he’s safe, and that’s all that matters, alright?”
Buck can’t take Eddie’s forgiveness yet, not entirely anyway. There’s still too much guilt pooling on his chest, so he decides to focus on something else.
“And Genevieve? Where is she?” He asks, looking around and not seeing either Genevieve or her father. He tries not to be disappointed by the fact they’re gone; he’d have liked to say goodbye.
“Tommy took her to see her uncle Sal, but they’ll be back.” Bobby tells him, and Buck looks at him in surprise at the amount of information in that short sentence.
“You know her dad’s name?!” It’s the first thing he registers, and then the rest of Bobby’s sentence sinks in. “Wait, you found her uncle?! Is he okay? Is he alive?!”
“Calm down before you pass out again, please.” Bobby asks calmly, and then he sits at Buck’s side, his eyes alternating between Buck and the IV still hooked up to his arm. The captain looks weary and relieved at the same time. “As it turns out, the little girl you were helping is the daughter of a former 118 guy, Tommy Kinard. He’s a pilot at Harbor station now. And Sal, her uncle, is his best friend. He used to work with us too, a long time ago. He’s hurt his head pretty bad, but he’s alright”
“Oh thank God. She was so worried.” Buck says, relaxing back against the pillow. Eddie has taken Chris and they are sitting on a stool next to his bed, cuddling together in silence. That fills Buck with relief, and he sighs, closing his eyes for a bit.
He’s still exhausted, and the dull throbbing in his leg is intensifying into stabs of sharp pain. Buck forced his body to the limit, and now he’s paying the price, but he can’t regret it. Not when Chris and Vivie are reunited with their dads.
Before he can voice his discomfort, though, he sees Chimney jogging towards them. He smiles when he sees Buck is awake, and promptly shoves a water bottle and a cereal bar into his hands.
“Welcome to the land of the living, Buckaroo.” He says, patting his shoulder gently. “Eat something, or Maddie will kill us both.”
“Thanks, Chim” He says hoarsely, sitting up on the bed..
Buck eagerly opens the bottle first, taking a big sip and sighing as it eases the pain on his sore throat. As he takes a small bite of the cereal bar, easing his hunger and thirst, his leg decides it’s done waiting for attention. The pain intensifies, and Buck can’t help but flinch a movement that is quickly caught by Hen’s sharp gaze.
“Alright, Buckaroo, finish your snack so we can get some painkillers into your system.” She asks, and Buck, who’d usually stubbornly reject the idea of using painkillers, especially the strong ones that help his leg, just nods meekly; he’s in too much pain. “And then I think you should take it very easy the next few days. It wasn’t your fault, but you pushed yourself way too hard today.”
“Hen’s right, kid.” Bobby adds gently. “Once the painkillers kick in, we’ll take you home, and then you can get some rest, ok?”
Getting some rest sounds wonderful in Buck’s opinion, and he nods at them both, his mouth too occupied with chewing. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until now.
“Not so fast, Cap.” Chim quips, and inexplicably smirks at Buck. “He can’t go anywhere before Tommy and Vivie come back and he gets to play the hero.”
Buck blushes at that, but he can’t help a small smile from coming to his lips at knowing Genevieve and her father are coming back. And, with a small leap in his heart, he thinks that his giddiness isn’t entirely about Vivie.
But he’s wise enough to keep that thought to himself.
--
Tommy crosses the field hospital with quick strides, Vivie's small frame a comforting weight in his arms. As they walk around, he notices that things are calming down; there are fewer people around, the doctors and nurses don't seem to be rushing so much, and the overall chaos is more controlled.
Things are settling down, as they usually do after a big tragedy, and Tommy privately thinks they’ll only see how bad it was on the next day. He sends a silent thought for all the people who didn’t have the luck he did, of finding the loved ones they lost to the waves.
Sal is exactly where Tommy left him; sitting up on the bed, a pained look on his face as he frantically looks around. The second he spots Tommy and Vivie, his face is taken over with relief, and Tommy can see how desperately he wishes to get up, but he doesn't. He just grips the sheets, staring at them intensely, his face going from anxious to relieved.
"Vivie!" He exclaims, and Tommy's daughter raises her head so fast that he worries she’ll have whiplash.
The minute she sees Sal, she gasps loudly, and her little hand curls up in Tommy’s shirt, gripping it tightly. Vivie’s staring at Sal as if he isn’t real, as if she’s trying to convince herself that he is.
"UNCLE SAL!" Genevieve's exclamation can be heard through the whole hospital, and she tugs insistently at Tommy's shirt. "Daddy, daddy, put me down, please!", she begs, and Tommy is more than happy to abide.
The second her feet hit the floor, she's rushing to Sal's bed, climbing up on it as fast as her little legs allow. Sal wraps his arms around her, pulling Genevieve to his lap and holding her close. Her arms wrap around his neck, and they hug each other tightly. Tommy can see the tension leaving Sal’s shoulders as he wraps his daughter in his strong arms, and his own heartbeat seems to finally settle as he sees them together.
“Vivie, oh my God! I was so worried, kiddo, so worried!” Sal says, his voice thick with emotion like Tommy’s never seen before.
“Me too, uncle Sal!” Vivie says, and then she looks at him, her eyes filled with tears. “Cause you got really hurt, and then I didn’t see you anymore, and I was so afraid!”
It’s clear that all the events of the day are finally catching up to Genevieve, and she lets out a broken sob, her whole body shaking with it. Tommy’s first instinct is to jump in and get her in his arms so he can comfort her, but he holds back. That’s not what Vivie needs; she needs reassurance from the uncle she almost lost, not from him. And he trusts Sal to do it.
“Hey, hey, shh” Sal soothes her gently. “I’m here, you don’t have to be afraid, kiddo.”
He picks Vivie up, sitting her on his lap, pressing her head against his chest. She clutches his filthy Ramones T-shirt in her tiny fist, and Sal runs one massive hand in her hair, messing it up even further. They’ll wash and braid it again when he puts her to bed, which will happen about a thousand hours later than it should, but he couldn’t care less.
“It was scary…” She admits, her voice a tiny whisper, and Tommy’s heart breaks for her.
Genevieve has always been his brave little girl; the only fear she’s ever had was the dark. Tommy has been able to protect her from that, putting a night light in her bedroom, letting her sleep with him when it gets too bad. But will he be able to protect her from this? From the fear of water, fear of the sea, from the nightmares that she’ll get from this? He doesn’t know, and the thought scares him.
“I know, kiddo.” Sal tells her, bringing Tommy back to the present. “It was scary to me too.”
“I r-really thought I wouldn’t see you anymore, uncle Sal.” She tells him, and Sal exchanges a helpless look with Tommy.
Neither of them wanted her to learn what losing someone feels like, and Tommy would have given anything for his daughter not to have this experience. But it’s happened, and now all they can do is reassure her that everything turned out okay in the end.
Sal takes a deep sigh, and then presses a long kiss to Vivie’s forehead. Tommy can see his eyes are filled with tears, but he does his best to swallow them and smile at the little girl on his lap. “What, and leave all the fun of watching you grow up to your boring dad? No way, kiddo.”
Genevieve lets out a watery giggle at that, looking from Sal to Tommy. “Daddy, uncle Sal said you’re boring!” She gasps, and Tommy smiles wryly, coming closer to them.
“I heard it, baby. Maybe we should let Uncle Sal go home on foot, then? He won’t want a ride with someone this boring after all.”
“Nah, I’ll take it the ride. Even if you’re boring, Vivie is cool.” Sal teases, Sal teases, which makes Vivie giggle in delight and Tommy smack his shoulder (a lot more lightly than he normally would). Then, his expression turns serious, and he looks earnestly at his best friend.
“Tommy. I am sorry, man. I am so sorry.” He says, and Tommy can see he’s about to cry again. Without a word, he wraps his arms firmly around Sal, Vivie caught between them, and hugs his best friend tightly.
“I know. You don’t have to be. What matters to me is that you’re both okay.” Tommy says, and he means every word. Sal pats his back and nods at him when Tommy finishes the hug.
He sits by the edge of Sal’s bed, and Vivie scrambles from Sal’s lap to his, cuddling up against his chest. Her body is heavy against his, exhaustion catching up to her. He holds her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“How are you feeling, man?” Tommy asks, and Sal smirks at him.
“Like I’ve been hit in the head by debris.” He quips, and Tommy glares at him until he shrugs. “Look, I think I’ll be worse in the morning. They gave me good stuff for the pain, so I won’t feel it for real until tomorrow.”
“Yeah, well, it’d make me a hell lot more comfortable if you spent the night with us. I don’t want you going home alone.” Tommy says, and Sal rolls his eyes, poking Vivie’s arm.
“Your dad is such a mother hen, isn’t he?” He teases, and the little girl giggles. Tommy loves that sound more than anything in the world. “But okay, I think a sleepover sounds fun.”
“Sleepover!” Vivie celebrates, making Tommy and Sal chuckle. Then Sal frowns, as if he remembered something, and a sad expression takes over his face.
“Aw, kiddo, and I still owe you a unicorn, don’t I? Can’t believe we went through all that trouble and you didn’t get him in the end.”
Vivie gasps at that, kneeling on the bed and covering her mouth with her tiny hands. She looks from Tommy to Sal and then to the floor, her eyes widening.
“No, uncle Sal, but I did get him! I protected Marsh, but I forgot him with Mr. Evan! Daddy, we have to go back to your firefighter friends and get him back!”
“We will, baby. Daddy wants to thank mr. Evan anyway.” Tommy reassures her, and Sal frowns at him.
“Mr. Evan? ‘Firefighter friends’? The hell she is talking about, Tommy?” He asks, and Tommy refrains himself from scolding him for saying ‘hell’ in front of Vivie, because she doesn’t seem to pay much attention.
Tommy smirks, already anticipating Sal’s reaction to knowing it was Nash’s team that got Tommy to Vivie. “So, you’re never gonna believe this…”
--
After telling the whole story to Sal and telling him to stay put until Tommy comes for him (‘What, you think I wanna get up and go give Nash a hug and a cupcake? I’m better off here, thanks’), Tommy takes Vivie back to where the 118 was gathered around Evan’s bed.
Sal, who’s much better at keeping up with LAFD gossip than Tommy, has already informed him that Evan is the firefighter who got caught under the ladder truck a few months ago, and that only makes Tommy admire the man even more. He can only imagine how painful it must have been, walking around with a kid all day with his leg still recovering from such a trauma.
When they get there, they’re greeted by the sound of laughter, and the bed is surrounded by Nash, Howie and Hen. The medic - Eddie, according to Sal - is sitting on a stool, with his kid asleep against his chest. They’re all looking at Evan with exasperated fondness and soft smiles.
Evan himself is leaning against the pillow, his leg stretched out in front of him. His cheeks are flushed, and he doesn’t look as exhausted anymore, but his blue eyes are hazy and his smile is a little loopy. Even so, Tommy can’t help but notice he is absolutely gorgeous, and that his earlier comparison to an angel was not too out there; Evan has positively cherubic features, and the fact that he has his arms wrapped around an unicorn plushie only adds to his charm.
“Marsh!” Vivie exclaims the minute she spots the plushie, and everyone turns to them.
Tommy smiles at them in greeting as Vivie tugs on his T-shirt to let her down. Tommy does, and she rushes to Evan’s bed, stopping herself before climbing in it and looking at him shyly. Evan, however, smiles at her, bright and welcoming, and Tommy’s heart skips a treacherous beat. Get a grip, Kinard, you can’t lose it just because he is kind to your kid. He’s probably straight anyway, he tells himself firmly, but his eyes are still taking in the charming scene unfolding in front of him.
“C’mere, Vivie.” Evan says, and it’s the first time Tommy’s hearing his voice. It’s warm, and cheery, even though his speech is a little slurred, probably from everything that happened.
He pats the mattress next to him, and Genevieve doesn’t need to be told twice. She climbs up on the bed, and Evan offers the unicorn to her. “Your friend was missing you, you know?”, he tells her with a lovely smile.
“You kept him safe for me, Mr. Evan! Thank you!” She says in wonder, hugging the plushie close to her chest. Then, she looks at Evan, and puts the plushie aside, kneeling on the bed and wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek against his flushed one. “And thank you for keeping me safe. You made things not so scary, and you helped me find Uncle Sal.”
It’s clear the heartfelt thanks from the five-year-old takes Evan off-guard, and he’s slow on his reaction. Still, he wraps his arms around her, closing his eyes in delight, gently stroking her hair.
“You’re quite welcome, baby. Having you with me made things not so scary too, so thank you. For helping me to get here.”
The others are all watching the scene with a mix of fondness and amusement. Tommy himself could forever stand there and watch this ridiculously adorable man interact with his kid, but he can’t; he has his own thanks to give. He approaches the bed slowly, and both Vivie and Evan look up at him. His daughter promptly holds the unicorn up so Tommy can see it. It’s wet, and filthy, but he guesses it’s still sort of cute.
“Look, Daddy, this is Marsh! Uncle Sal got him for me!” She tells him excitedly, and Tommy chuckles, bending down to kiss her forehead.
“Marsh looks like a great addition to your plushie friends, baby. He’ll probably look even better after we give him a bath.” He muses, and Vivie giggles, going back to stroke the plushie’s fur gently.
What surprises Tommy, though, and apparently everyone else, is that Evan giggles right along. Tommy refuses to acknowledge how adorable it is to see this 6-foot-2 man giggling along with his five-year-old.
“Isn’t that funny, though? A unicorn taking a bath? It should be a glitter bath at least.” He says, and then laughs at his own joke. His friends are looking at him in amusement, and Hen crosses her arms, smirking.
“I guess the painkillers are kicking in, huh, Buckaroo?” She says fondly, and Evan tries to handwave her, but the gesture is a tad bit clumsy.
“M’fine!” He exclaims, and then he runs a hand on Vivie’s plushie, looking at it in wonder. “Oh my God, he is so soft! Eddie, have you ever seen a softer plushie?”
Eddie snickers, and so does Chimney. Bobby is staring at Evan with a mixture of exasperation and fondness. And Tommy? Tommy is trying very hard not to melt from the sheer cuteness.
“Tommy, if you have anything to say to him, I think you should say it now, before we completely lose him.” Chim recommends with a chuckle, and Tommy startles. He does have something to say.
He turns to Evan, and the man has a loopy smile on his face, looking at Tommy with hazy eyes filled with something that he can’t quite define, but it makes Tommy blush furiously. He fidgets with the hem of his shirt, and forces himself to look the man in the eye.
“Mr. Evan”, he starts, and the man frowns, as if something isn’t quite right about that greeting.
“No mister. You can call me...” He trails off, as if he’s looking for the right word, and then he smiles at Tommy as if he’s had the brightest idea ever. “Evan! Yeah! You can totally call me Evan.”
“Evan, then. I’m Tommy. Tommy Kinard.” He says, offering a hand, and Evan shakes it.
His hand is warm against Tommy’s, even if his handshake is a little wobbly. The moment they touch, Tommy feels as if a spark of electricity rushes through him, as cliché as that sounds. Evan must feel it too, because he looks up at Tommy with raised eyebrows.
“I know, Bobby said. I’m your re… re… Ah, it’s a big word, but I entered the 118 when you left. Small world, huh?” He says, with a tiny frown between his eyebrows as if he’s trying to make sense of it, and Tommy has an irrational urge to kiss it away. He doesn’t, but it’s a near thing.
“Very.” Tommy agrees, and then he sits down by Evan’s side. Even if he’s not entirely aware of what’s going on, Tommy needs to thank him. “Evan, I will never be able to thank you enough for what you did. Vivie is my life, and you saved her. There are no words to express how grateful I am.”
Evan seems to take a while to process his words, but then he shrugs modestly. He looks down at Vivie and tries for a wink, but it comes off as more of a sleepy blink. Tommy’s daughter giggles anyway, holding Marsh close to her chest.
“Ah, you don’t have to thank me, you know?” He slurs. “I did what everyone would do.”
“No, you didn’t.You did way more. You kept her safe, and you protected her, and you brought her to find her uncle.” Tommy tells him firmly, taking his hand in his and squeezing it. He tries to ignore the goosebumps it brings to his arms. “I owe you a debt that can never be repaid. But if there is anything I can do for you, ever, you just have to say the word.”
Evan nods, but stays silent. His hand is still wrapped around Tommy’s, and he looks down at them for a moment. Then he looks back at Tommy, his blue eyes determined.
“I mean, you could ask me out!” He exclaims, and everyone turns at him, eyes widened, including Tommy. He’s so surprised he doesn’t remember to separate their hands.
“I… I could… W-what?” Tommy asks, sputtering and feeling a blush covering his cheeks and all the way down to his neck (nice going, you idiot). It doesn’t help that half his former team is watching it with smirks on their faces.
“You could ask me out!” Evan repeats it, his brows furrowing as if he can’t quite understand what’s giving Tommy pause. “You’re ridiculously gorgeous, you know that? I’d say yes if you asked me out.”
Tommy is left completely speechless and wishing that the floor would swallow him whole. Captain Nash is looking at Evan with that same fatherly exasperation of before, and Eddie and Howie are shaking with silent laughter. Not even Vivie helps; the minute Evan says he’s gorgeous, her daughter starts giggling uncontrollably, looking between them with way too much amusement. Hen is the only one who seems to take pity on the two of them, because she puts a hand on Buck’s shoulder.
“Alright, Buckaroo, that’s enough out of you! Why don’t you try and get some sleep?”
“Can’t sleep, Hen, I’m going out with the hot pilot. Weren’t you paying attention?” He grumbles, but as Hen helps him lay back, he closes his eyes, resting back against the pillow with a soft sigh.
Tommy is flustered, and shocked, and impossibly endeared. He wants to ask Evan out, he wants to do it now, but he won’t hold a man accountable for things he said under heavy painkillers.
“Daddy, are you going out with mr. Evan?” Vivie asks, and Tommy, if possible, blushes even more. He takes one more look at Evan’s face, eyes closed and a small smile still playing on his lips, and he desperately wishes to tell her that yes, he will.
“I… No, baby. Mr. Evan didn’t really mean it, he’s just sleepy. It’s like when you say silly things in your sleep, remember?” He tells her, and she nods, but looks absolutely disappointed. “Besides, we have to pick up uncle Sal and go home, don’t we? It’s way past your bedtime. Say goodbye to everyone and let’s go.”
She does as she’s told, sparing a hug for everyone and making Eddie promise she and Chris will have a playdate soon (Tommy actually likes the idea; Vivie has plenty of friends, but she could always do with more). He agrees to set it up and says his own goodbyes, shaking everyone’s hands. When it comes to Chimney’s turn, though, he smirks at Tommy and slips a paper into his pocket.
“Here’s Buck’s number and address. You know, just in case you wanna check if he meant it or was just being silly.” He says with a knowing smirk, and Tommy looks at him in surprise. Howie shrugs, and then goes back to talking to Hen.
And Tommy should throw the paper away, he really should. Evan is probably straight; Tommy has a daughter and hasn’t really dated in years. Everything tells him this is not a good idea.
He folds it carefully in his pocket anyway.
Tag list:
@bidisasterevankinard @unhingedangstaddict @silversky9 @music-is-the-voice-of-the-soul @asmugfirefighter
@typicalopposite @littlepaws9 @aplaceinme @rubydaiquiri @racerchix21
@dearqueend @laundryandtaxesworld @buckleyskinards @actuallyitsellie
@agentpeggycartering @chaoticdisasterbi
@deelovesbooks @teabroomsandbooks
#bucktommy#tommy kinard#evan buckley#gabby writes#life is Changin' tides#life is changin' tides ch. 4#tsunami fic#hurt/comfort#eddie diaz#christopher diaz#sal deluca
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kidnapping ficlet! there will be more on this topic, for those of you who have been very curious about that. 1.3k words, mostly max POV with a bit of charles at the end.
IM REALLY NOT KIDDING: darkbull. this is right in line with the other kidnapping fic- very mature themes here, slight body horror from max. (because, ya know. trackers. inside of him.)
Max tries to curl up tighter under the covers. He's cold, and Charles is gone, and he's-
He's scared.
The apartment is empty except for the sound of a clock ticking from another room. Not that Max would know which room, because he's been in the bedroom since he woke up.
He's pretty sure, anyways.
His wrist throbs. He thinks he can blearily remember through the confusion and the fear, that Charles had pressed something onto his tongue, soothed him gently while Max gagged around his fingers until he swallowed it.
It's worn off now.
Max tries to curl his hands closer into his chest, but it's difficult with the way they're tied together, red ribbon winding through his fingers, binding them tight.
Charles had avoided tying anything across his wrists, which is-
It's something.
Max's stomach churns thinking about it at all, the way Charles had cut into him, dug into the flesh and meat, and the only thing worse than it happening at all-
He'd pulled something out.
It makes Max's skin crawl, thinking about the fact that something's been in there, inside of him. He'd had no idea.
There's noise from across the flat, and Max works his jaw, trying to get rid of the ache that the gag has placed on it. Charles had apologized when he secured it around Max's head, thumbs gently brushing away his tears.
Max had tried to beg, but-
His words hadn't worked. Come out slurred and illegible, and Charles had- had treated him like some kind of pet.
The sound of a door shutting, and Max flinches, eyes wide as he hears the clinking of keys and the rustle of grocery bags.
"Mon chaton!"
Charles comes around the corner, grinning brightly at him. Max has seen that grin on magazine spreads and instagram posts, stood next to that grin on podiums and in press conferences. It's never made him tremble like it does now.
"Oh, have you been good? No noises?"
Max couldn't make a noise if he tried. His jaw clenches around the gag, eyes narrowed, and Charles coos, brings a hand down to stroke across the side of Max's face.
"Yes, I promised I would explain things, didn't I? I will, don't worry."
Charles leans down and kisses his forehead, and Max is completely at his mercy, alone, and-
Max has not been completely alone in a long time. Redbull never- they wouldn't-
He misses them. He wishes more than anything that someone would break down the door, that someone would come get him, anything.
Charles leaves the room, but he's back a few seconds later, grocery bag in hand. He settles cross legged on the side of the bed, knee resting against Max's.
"Let me see... I have some painkillers for your wrist, and some water, and if you are well behaved you can have dinner with me, yes?"
There's a flicker of defiance in Max. He hasn't felt it in years, not since Jos was gone, but the feeling is still familiar. He won't make this easy- won't let Charles win.
Charles' grin slides into something sharper as his eyes brighten.
"There you are, baby. I was wondering when I would see you."
Charles hooks his fingers behind Max's head, and a moment later the gag falls away.
Max debates trying to snap at his fingers, but-
He's not a fucking animal, and his throat is dry, lips starting to crack.
They don't normally get this bad- Daniel likes to settle him on a counter somewhere, really take his time with it. Long fingers pressed gently to his lips, smooth strokes of the balm where they get bruised and sore. Max pretends he doesn't get it, but secretly he likes it- enjoys feeling taken care of down to the smallest detail.
Now he's not even sure if he'll get water.
He realizes a second later that it's suspiciously quiet, and when he refocuses Charles has his eyes narrowed.
"Baby, I am trying to take care of you. I rescued you, the least you could do is pay attention to me."
He sounds slightly annoyed as he cracks the cap on a water bottle, raising it to Max's lips.
"Slow sips. I already changed the sheets when you bled all over them, I do not want to do it again because you've choked, yes?"
Max suppresses the flinch, carefully tilting his head, trying to ignore the way Charles' fingers wrap tight around his jaw, holding him in place.
The first few sips are heaven- cold and crisp, soothing his throat. The second few sips taste weird- a slightly bitter aftertaste coating his tongue, and Max immediately knows it's not electrolytes, tries to tug his head away, but Charles grip is strong.
"Keep drinking."
Max tries to yank away again, but Charles' fingers dig tight enough to bruise, eyes narrowed, and his wrist hurts and he's alone-
Max drinks.
------
Charles pets over Max's hair where his head is resting in his lap. It's going to be a process, fixing him- but it's worth it.
He'll take care of him, the way Max deserves to be taken care of.
Charles doesn't want to be harsh, but right now it's what Max needs. He can be nice to him after Max has settled a bit, has better behavior to display. Charles doesn't believe in reinforcing the wrong kind of attitude, and Redbull has done more than enough damage to Max already.
He glances back at the hand not currently on Max, rolling the small capsule between his thumb and index finger. It's nonfunctional now, but-
Surely Redbull was not this negligent, to only give Max one.
But Charles had checked- had run his fingers across Max's wrist and ankles, pressed deep into his shoulders and collarbones, and he hadn't found anything, nothing at all.
If there are any other trackers, they are either too small to be felt, or too deep for Charles to find. Both options are bad, but Charles has a hard time believing that's what Redbull would spend their time on.
It's hard for him to get a read on how much time they actually spend with Max- just because he's constantly surrounded by the team doesn't mean they're interacting. Charles grits his teeth at the idea that Redbull has had Max locked away in some room at the factory.
The way they treat him- like some kind of thing- it's disgraceful.
He's not "some" thing.
He's Charles' thing.
And Charles is tired of other people getting their hands on him, doing what they want with him. He's belonged to Charles since day one, since they first argued, first made contact.
Max makes a soft whine, eyes blown and unfocused, and Charles loosens his grip. He hadn't even realized his fingers had tightened up, tugging at Max's scalp.
"Sorry, chaton. I am not angry with you."
Max shifts, trying to move, but he won't get very far- Charles is getting much better about his dosages. He doesn't even need to have him bound right now, Max doesn't have enough control to move around. Certainly not quickly.
It hurts Charles' heart, having to treat him like this, but Redbull still has their influence on him, deep in his heart and his brain, and until Charles can trust him not to go running back to them, this will have to do.
He lightly scratches his nails, watches Max's eyes blink back shut. He'll adjust, and then things will be perfect.
His phone buzzes next to him, screen lighting up for Charles to see it without having to reach for it. It's Oscar, telling him the job is done. Redbull has inked his contract, and finally all of Charles' hard work is starting to pay off.
Max, here in his lap. A mole, embedding himself into a rival team. The car is looking good as well.
He hums, feeling something warm and happy in his chest. He's a good planner, really. Everything is falling into place exactly the way he wants.
#darkbull verse#ficlet#once again rip max who is straight up not having a good time#meanwhile rb is flipping their shit
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leaning in for a peck on the lips and telling your windbreaker darling they're so sweet they give you toothaches... only to be hit by a real toothache hours later
#i think umemiya would be worried bc you overexaggerate the pain with theatrics + same for tsubaki.#hiragi more worried and concerned than you are...panic all around and asking around for a someone's relative dentist to go to quickly#togame and suo just tease you back... you are suffering the consequences of the hell you had crafted (they'll bring a painkiller later they#cannot bare to see you hurt and wringling in pain when it goes for too long. kiryu on the same list but his resolve not as strong as them)#sakura and nieri have no idea what the fuck theyre supposed to do.... nieri acts a bit faster and contacts someone for help probably but +#poor sakura issoooo clueless he is like a deer in headlights.#choji probs: dgaf mode. didnt think you were that serious. has the GUTS to ask you to have some ice cream with him and youre just:+#bffr rn im SUFFERING. (he'll probs ask kame-chan for help later on when your pouty state goes on for too long...)#kaji also in more of a dgaf mode but taking it chill and easy. tells you once (a little harshly) to cut it and calm down. then makes some +#calls (ie: gets one of his advisors to set up a dentists appointment.) then shoves a bottle of water and a painkiller into your hands and a#little ruffle of your hair maybe... there's no way he is inexperienced in this department with his trackrecord of candies... he WILL+#scold you the entire way to the dentist's tho about your eating habits and whatnot and see? this is divine punishment for that awful joke +#you dared make the other day...#SORYR IM UNSURE HOW WELL I NAILED THESE SO I WROT THESE IN THE TAGS I CAN MAKE IT AN ACTUAL POST. my teeth hurt.. T-T#wind breaker#wind breaker x reader
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.
#idk if this is a Thing but my body just doesn't respond well to painkillers#as in i have to take a Huge dose in order to feel anything and if it's a heavy pain like toothaches#i just don't feel much of an effect#so like now when i have really intense tooth pain im taking a Lot of painkillers just to have some relief#pushing the limit of the daily intake#and then OFC my stomach feels ravaged by the pills#i went to a pharmacy today to ask for help but they were like nah go back to your dentist#while i was like. they told me it would hurt this much just give me relief#and they were like. well you're taking the max possible dose#she made it sound like 600mg of ibuprofen was a magical drug that should cure me while that pill has never done anything to me except#slightly relieve me of fevers in the past#long story short does anyone have tips for me to keep my stomach a little bit okay#my posts
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be my angel
in which BAU fem!reader was injured on the job, but is refusing painkillers at the hospital. spencer thinks he knows why.
fluff (+a little angst) warnings/tags: established relationship, hospital stuff, reader got beat up by an unsub, discussions of spencer's past addiction, mentions of period cramps, reader ends up being administered some sort of painkiller a/n: another draft i found in my literal hundreds of pages of abandoned wips and fixed up cause it's cute, I hope you like!!!
Spencer is tearing through the hospital. They all keep saying you’re going to be okay, but what does that even mean? Why is nobody telling him anything? He’s not even sure he heard what the orderly at the front desk said, but his feet are carrying him with a strident purpose through the winding white halls, so he has to assume he at least subconsciously knows where he’s going.
Finally he spots Penelope, a beacon in her candy-colored clothing, speaking to a doctor in hushed tones. Penelope sees him approaching and turns away from the doctor, looking harried and exhausted.
“Is she okay? What happened?” Spencer demands, before either of the others can say a word.
“She’s okay,” the doctor assures. “She was beat up pretty bad—concussion, broken ribs, some bruising that looks worse than it is. There was a clean shot through her arm, but—”
His blood runs cold. Nobody told him you were shot. Why had nobody told him you were shot?
“I need to see her.”
The doctor frowns, glancing between the two agents.
“I’m sorry, are you her spouse?”
“Yes. No, not yet, I just—I need to see her, please. Now.”
“Sir, unless she—”
“Just let him see her!” Penelope practically yells. “She wants him here, believe me.”
The doctor clenches her jaw and scribbles something on her clipboard.
“Okay. Maybe you can try to convince her to accept some painkillers.”
Spencer’s frown deepens.
“She’s refusing pain management?”
“We gave her as much ibuprofen as we could, but she refused anything stronger than that. She has to be in a lot of pain right now, and there’s no background of addiction.”
“I’ll talk to her,” Spencer says, already twisting the silver door handle. He has a sneaking suspicion as to why you denied pain treatment, and it makes him feel incredibly guilty. More than he already did, after this entire debacle.
The sight of you, bloodied and bruised and obviously suffering has his heart splintering right down the middle. Whatever meager semblance of a smile he can scrounge up and offer is reflected back to him on you—which only makes him feel worse. As always, you’re putting on a brave face.
“Hey,” Spencer says quietly as he closes the door behind him.
“Hi,” you croak. “How do I look?”
He approaches, sitting on the edge of the bed and pushing your hair away from your face.
“How do you feel? The doctor told me you wouldn’t accept pain medication,” he murmurs.
You sniff.
“I feel okay. Did she tell you it’s not as bad as it looks?”
But your voice is so small, so wavery and weak, that he knows you’re lying.
“Sweetheart...”
You’ve been holding it together since the unsub beat you nearly unconscious. You held it together as he ran away, even got a couple shots in before he turned around and returned fire. You held it together while you sat against the dirty truck, bleeding out, not sure if your team was coming, and you held it together in the ambulance, and for the past thirty minutes in this hospital bed. But all it takes is one gentle word from Spencer, with that concerned, solicitous look in his eye, and the floodgates are opening. Tears spring up in your eyes and begin silently falling down your dirtied cheeks.
“It’s okay!” you attempt to reassure him, affecting cheeriness even through the tears. “It doesn’t hurt. I’m fine!”
He says your name soft and low and he tries his best to keep his tone even though he is liable to burst into tears or start yelling at someone (not you) at any minute.
“I know that’s not true. You have broken ribs and a gunshot wound. I know how badly it hurts to breathe and how it feels every time you move your arm. That is too much damage for over-the-counter anti-inflammatories. You need real analgesics.”
“I don’t,” you whisper. Your teary eyes make his whole body ache. He squeezes your hand—the one that’s not connected to the wounded arm.
“Because of me?” You stare at him blankly, as if you’re shocked he was able to put two and two together. “I promise you don’t need to worry about that.”
You sniffle.
“But what if—what if they give me the drugs and I get all weird and it’s, it’s like... triggering for you, or something?”
“It’s been a really long time since I’ve worried about that. I’d rather see you a little tired and out of it than in extreme pain and trying to pretend you’re not. You getting the pain relief you need in a medical emergency is not going to make me relapse.”
“But I really think I could go without,” you begin, voice already tightening around a cry. “I’ve—I’ve had period cramps that were worse than this.”
Despite himself, he chuckles. Goes back to stroking your hair.
The laughter fades quickly. All the pain you’re in is so evident in your eyes. The dissociative glassiness, the tension around them, the bloodshot quality—he's seen it many times before, and he hates it on you.
“Will you please tell them you’re ready to take something? They won’t give you Dilaudid. It’s too strong. They’ll give you something that I’d have no interest in anyway.”
“Not funny,” you whisper.
He ignores this.
“Will you let me call the doctor back in?”
You take a deep, shuddering breath—or at least, you try to, before you’re loosing a sharp squeak that deteriorates into a little sob. The ribs.
Spencer doesn’t bother asking again, just gets up and begins to walk away as efficiently as his legs will carry him. You need painkillers and he thinks it might be fastest to just fetch the doctor or a nurse from the hallway.
“Wait,” you plead.
He stops. Reminds himself that you need him right now—not his medical opinions. Spencer turns back around and approaches again, crouching by your bedside this time.
“What, honey?”
“I don’t...”
You trail off, overcome by something like fear in the width and shine and nervous dart of your eyes. Spencer knows, everybody at the BAU knows, that showing fear to a serial killer will get you killed that much quicker. During your time alone with the unsub, which is a can of worms Spencer literally cannot psychologically open right now, you had to put on your bravest face. Even while you were being beaten within an inch of your life. Even when you thought you were going to die, alone, and that your team—that Spencer—wasn't coming back for you. Because that’s the kind of thing you have to do to cope when you’re at rock bottom. But you were terrified. Petrified. That doesn’t just go away—and Spencer knows it’ll be bumping against the surface until it finds a way out.
He has to remember that just because you look unafraid and you act unafraid doesn’t mean you aren’t.
“You were so brave,” he manages after he’s sure he can say it without incident, swiping moisture from your cheek. “You did everything exactly right.”
“I know,” you whisper, chin trembling. Spencer knows you, and he knows this kind of trauma well enough to know that you’re thinking, I did everything exactly right, and it wasn’t enough. I did everything exactly right and this is what I have to show for it.
“But nobody needs you to act like it wasn’t hard, okay? You don’t need to pretend like it doesn’t hurt. You were so, so brave, angel. You don’t have to be brave anymore.”
Your eyes squeeze shut, sending a new wash of tears over your tacky cheeks. A few moments pass. You say nothing. He hopes you’re not going to hide away inside yourself like he did.
“Will you please, please, let me get the doctor?”
At least this time you don’t immediately say no.
“Will you come right back?”
“Of course.”
Finally, you nod your hesitant assent, and Spencer presses a careful kiss to your forehead.
A few minutes later, the doctor—who was shocked that Spencer was able to so quickly change your very made-up mind—is back, and so is Spencer. It only takes a moment for them to determine the best course of action for you and soon the fist around his heart is loosening its grip as he watches some of the agony melting from your eyes.
“Better?” he murmurs as the nurse who’d administered the drugs leaves, fanning his thumb over the underside of your wrist. You nod, already appearing sleepy.
“Can you lie down with me?”
He smiles at the way your words slip against each other, simply relieved that you’re able to relax and no longer in extreme pain.
“Hospital beds aren’t rated for two people.”
“Spencer.”
It’s enough for him to climb onto the bed—not that he was ever going to deny you what you wanted to begin with. The fit isn’t exactly perfect—he's a bit too long and combined the two of you are just slightly too wide—but with some finagling it’s comfortable enough. Spencer has slipped his arm underneath you and your head is on his shoulder and he’s so glad to have you in his arms and so grateful that you’re okay he does something almost like praying in his head as he kisses your hair.
“Hey. Ask me about my bruises.”
“Why? Do they still hurt?”
“You should see the other guy.”
It’s dumb and it doesn’t make sense because you didn’t bother waiting for him to actually set the joke up—but he smiles dryly nonetheless.
“Can you please give me... I don’t know, 36 hours before you start making jokes about almost dying?”
“Clock starts now.”
“Thank you.” He feels your lips curve into a half-conscious smile against his neck. It’s a wonderful feeling. “How are your ribs? Breathing feels okay?”
“Mhm. Love breathing.”
“Mhm. And your arm?”
“Like I got shot.”
“Well, that’s pretty much unavoidable. But not as bad as before, right?”
“Right. Spencer?”
“What, my love?”
A little pleased puff of air warms his shoulder. He carefully rubs your hip.
“Will you tell me how brave I was again?”
He takes a silent, very deep breath.
“You were incredibly brave. And smart, too. I’m really proud of you for how you handled that situation. I’m so sorry you had to go through that, but I don’t think anyone could have handled it better. Especially when you chose to stay put by the truck, instead of chase him. I know that wasn’t what you wanted to do, but it was the right choice.”
“I thought you guys maybe weren’t coming,” you murmur, no hint of sadness in your smushed, flat voice—like you’re barely awake. “I waited half an hour and I thought you weren’t gonna find me.”
“Angel, I will always find you. We didn’t stop looking even once, as soon as we noticed you were gone. I’m just sorry I wasn’t with Emily and Rossi when they got to you.”
“’Nelope told me... she told me you got really angry and scary.”
He stares at the ceiling and considers this.
“I could see... how what I was feeling would be interpreted that way. I was pretty angry. But not at Penelope or any of them. I was mostly just scared.”
“I’m sorry I scared you,” you whisper. “And I’m sorry if I made you mad.”
“You did not. I wasn’t mad at you. And it’s not your fault that I got scared. You were just trying to do your job. None of this is your fault.”
“She also said that you said fuck like... three times.”
“Mm... doesn’t sound like me,” he evades. You giggle, and the sound is more a relief than any drug he could take.
“No, seriously, I’m so mad I missed it. I love hearing you swear. Tell me what you said—and you have to cause I’m all messed up so I get whatever I want.”
He sighs in mock annoyance.
“Well, she’s wrong. I only said fuck once. I used fucking as an intensifier twice.”
You hum.
“Sexy.”
“Alright,” Spencer laughs, flushing as he moves his hand to your shoulder. “Go to sleep before I tell them to up your dosage, weirdo.”
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x self insert#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fic
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i would absolutely ADORE some daisuke smut. i feel as if he'd have a praise kink...
Guess I'm writing smut now 🤷
These headcanons are mostly gender neutral but since I'm a girl its written from a female perspective, if one of you request these headcanons with a male s/o it's no big deal! I'll write it :)
Also, I will be following a nsfw alphabet list but in a crappy order 👍
Also, I did use a picture instead of a gif, sue me.
❥ Starting off with the headcanon you already mentioned: I do believe Daisuke has some sort of praise kink. He would love to get praised for doing the simplest of things, but he doesn't get a hard on every time you praise him, only if it's in a dirty context ☝️
❥ It will take a bit to get this man going. If you decide to drop subtle hints, he will get it but will ultimately think it is all in his head, so you have to be a bit straight forward most of the time. Example:
"Gosh... My head hurts." Daisuke complained, taking a seat next to you on the couch. A bright idea suddenly enters your mind as you smirk to yourself, turning to your boyfriend, Daisuke, with a suggestive look.
"I know what can cure a headache..." You stated, resting your head on his shoulder with a wide smirk. Daisuke stares at you for a moment, as if to process your words.
"... You'll grab me a painkiller?" He said after a couple moments of silence. That ultimately killed your mood as you let out a loud sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in exhaustion.
❥ Yeah... be a bit more straight forward.
❥ As for the top or bottom dilemma, he'd be a switch leaning bottom. Why leaning bottom, you may ask? It just feels right.
❥ He can be a top if asked, but he'll still require huge amounts of praise and reassurance to make sure he's doing a good job. He prefers to have you on top so that he can feel of use, since you're the one that knows your body the best. But he does have occasional bursts of dominance where he is actually being a soft dom. Also yes, if he were to be a top he'd be a soft dom., argue w the wall.
❥ He is vocal in bed, and when I say vocal, I mean it. If he's not moaning and groaning, he's babbling nonsense into your ear. It doesn't even have to be sexy 😭. He would just be whining about work or a hard video game level while he pounds into you or when you're riding him.
"Swansea was... mhn- so rude today." Daisuke panted, gripping onto your hips tightly as you bounced up and down.
"Tell me more, Hon." You moaned above, quickening your pace as you rested your hands on his chest. He let out a couple of groans and moans before continuing to whine about how bad his day was.
❥ As for his favorite position? Doggy. He's a simple man. Hitting it from the back and pressing up against you from above while biting onto your shoulder to suppress his moans? What more could a man want.
❥ Even though he's not often in that position, it's still one of his favorites. He probably suggested to do positions you haven't done before just to see if they feel good or bad for you two. As I mentioned, he's eager to please and wants what makes you feel best.
❥ Stamina? Average. He could go two to three rounds without a problem, but after the third he'll feel overstimulated and tired. If you're still energetic and want more, he'll eat you out/suck you off until you're satisfied.
❥ What about aftercare? The king of aftercare... in his own special way. He would continuously ask you what you need, what you want, what he should do, is he hurting you? He's sorry if he is. Meanwhile you're lying there, barely able to comprehend his words from how fast he is speaking. After a while you two eventually get into a routine and he doesn't bombard you with questions as often.
❥ What about experience? He has had a couple of girlfriends before he met you, but it only led to make out sessions, nothing more. Unless you count his own hand as experience, I wouldn't put him very high on the list.
❥ What about how they are in the moment? Serious or silly? I'd say he leans towards silly more, but he can be serious when the time calls for it. As I mentioned previously, he rants about dumb stuff and on a couple occasions you had to stop what you were doing to laugh.
❥ As for where you two have sex, it mostly stays in the bedroom. If you're on the ship, it definitely stays in the bedroom. But when you're on land/in the comfort of your own home? No surface is safe if he's horny enough.
❥ As for his kinks, he doesn't have many. As I mentioned, praise in one, but on the list also falls blindfold sex, gagging, maybe spanking, and maybe a bit of hair pulling (both his and yours).
❥ Oral? He doesn't love it, nor does he hate it. As much as he wants to please you, he prefers getting head than giving. Don't get him wrong! He enjoys giving you head too, but even he has to be selfish sometimes. He'll ask for head in the most random times too, mostly because he's messing around. But if you accept? He was serious all along! I don't know why you would think otherwise 😁.
You were just sitting in the lounge area, already being done with your chores for the day and just waiting to be given a task. Though, your boyfriend, Daisuke, also seemed to be done with his tasks, taking a seat next to you in silence.
That silence was soon broken as Daisuke leaned into your ear with a shit eating grin.
"Wanna give me head?" He asked quietly, setting back down. He just wanted to fluster you because captain Curly was also in the room. You looked back at him, completely unphased as you shrugged
"Sure." That took him by surprise, his own face turning pink instead of yours as he looked around sheepishly. He quickly, yet gently grabbed your wrist before pulling you into a more secluded area.
❥ This man is a roller-coaster when it comes to that type of stuff. He would tease you to no end, but when you actually tease back? How could you! Now he's all red and flustered >:(
❥ He's awful when it comes to taking care of himself down there. It's not like he has a jungle, but his hair is just cut weirdly, and he doesn't know how to take care of certain parts. If you offer to help him, he'll be embarrassed as hell and would initially refuse, but after a bit of convincing he would cave.
❥ He has stolen your underwear at least once to see if it gets him going, which it kind of does but he is overwhelmed with embarrassment and overall feels bad. If you're a woman, he would grab a bra to recreate those videos you see on TikTok of men pretending to be flies, He even tries to put it on for a bit.
❥ As for his pace, it again really depends. Though he can get off by being slow, he does need a bit more roughness in order to finish off properly. Not full on pounding into you until your legs go numb, bit just enough (if you suggest the prior, he wouldn't be totally opposed, but you'll have to reassure him a shit ton during it and after).
❥ He thinks extreme dirty talk is cringe, change my mind. This man cannot take you nor himself seriously while trying to talk dirty like in the movies.
"Oh- yeah? You like that? You li-" Daisuke cut himself off with a loud wheeze, immediately stopping with his thrusting as he covered his mouth to laugh to himself.
"Don't laugh-" You tried to scold, but ultimately caved and began laughing as well.
"I can't- 'm sorry--" He wheezed once more, being overwhelmed by embarrassment at his words.
---
Thats all folks!
#mouthwashing game#mouthwashing daisuke#mouthwashing#mouthwashing daisuke x reader#mouthwashing x reader#x reader#daisuke x reader#daisuke mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing x reader
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Give me drunk Bucky who wakes up in your bed, confused over why he's in the softest pj's he's ever felt and for some reason wearing a giant fur coat he can only assume is from a pimp because who else would own such a thing.
What the hell happened
Mere hours earlier; 3:30 am, Guys night
"Noooooo" Bucky howled, letting his body go deadweight while Thor continued to carry him to his room, the only one strong enough to get the soldier off the floor after he'd polished the bottle of Asdargian mead clean. "Wanna see y/n"
"Yeah, can't imagine what y/n would say if she saw you being carried off like a princess" A very tipsy Sam and Steve followed behind while Bucky's bottom lip jutted out into an exaggerated pout, head thrown back with is eyes closed in defiance "She's still off on that mission, she'll be back soon, you can see her then-
Before Steve could finish, Bucky's eyes shot open, scrambling out of Thor's arms and stumbling towards your room. There was no time to stop him from entering, a drunk giggle slipping past his lips as he let himself in and sighed contently. By the time the three men reached, Bucky's shirt had already been discarded beside his socks.
"Oh no- Steve snorted at the sound of Bucky's belt bucky hitting the floor, his lip sticking out in concentration as he tried to work at the button of his jeans.
"Barnes, I swear if you take your pants off-Damn it" Sam huffed, a pair of black jeans landing on his head. "At least keep your boxers-Oh hell nah" He ducked before Bucky's intimates became aquainted with his face. "Don't you dare helicopter that third leg-he's doing it"
No one intervened as Bucky decided to make himself more comfortable, clearly missing you as he sighed, walking over to your closet. He was in there suspiciously long before emerging with-
"Buck, those are-
"Soft" Bucky hummed, coming out of your closet with a set of pj's you wore often, oversized so they'd be extra comfy. Bucky giggled at the smell of your soft scent, slipping the shirt over his head and putting the pants on, flopping on your bed like a cat. "Smells like y/n"
"Do we just leave him here"
"At least he's wearing pants" Steve sighed, frowning when he heard running footsteps approaching along with a chaotic cackling, who else would be still this active at this hour-
"There you guys are!! We're doing body shots off of- wait you're here. C'mon capsicle, take your shirt off-
"For fucks' sake Tony"
"Where the hell did you get that jacket" Sam's face scrunched when he notice Tony's shirt was missing however he was in a large coat which he'd thrown off, the pile of for landing on a half sleepy Bucky. Bucky's eye peeked open at all the fuss, wrapping himself up in the coat and blissfully falling asleep with his face in your pillow, the rest of the chaos mere white noise.
"SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS-"
"TONY NO"
"TONY YES"
Present
"What do we have here" you coo, giggling at a very disoriented Bucky who blinks up at you with puppy eyes, a pink blush spreading on his face. You'd just returned from your mission with Nat, the entire compound still reeking of alcohol, the hallway littered with various still drunk Avenger men. The only thing that cut through the smell was the fresh breakfast a happy Thor had already started, the only one standing as if nothing had happened.
You'd stepped over a sleeping Sam and Steve in the hallway to get to your room, cocking a brow at the large mound of fur and soft snoring sleeping in your bed.
"Good morning, sweet boy" You brushed back Bucky's hair, bending down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, letting him take his time to figure out his surroundings, "have a fun night"
"Missed you" he mumbled, pulling you to lay on the bed so he could cuddle up with you, his head now resting on your chest instead. "Missed you so much"
"I missed you too, bub" You continued to gently play with his hair, happy your boyfriend got to have a night of fun and thankful that you always kept painkillers in your bedside drawer. Poor baby was going to need it. You noticed the pile of clothes that were thrown on the floor, they were definitely Bucky's but Bucky was in clothes so what was he wearing-
"Buck?"
"hm?" "Are those my pjs?"
#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes fanfic#drunk bucky x you#drunk bucky barnes#drunk bucky#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky fan fics#bucky fan fiction#bucky fanfic#marvel fic#marvel fanfiction#marvel#avengers fluff#avenger fanfiction#avengers fanfiction#avengers fanfic#the avengers
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dark chocolate cherry
i want to bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses. i want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.
or; your boyfriend shows up when you just want some alone time [3.2k]
jason todd x fem!reader; reader gets her period and describes painful symptoms; just fluff; jason "words don't come easy so here's acts of service" todd this is earlier in the relationship which is why he's still a little shy but she knows he's red hood? idk man. i was just going with it; can you guess what inspired this? (everything is awful)
The day started at 2 AM when you woke to shooting pains in your abdomen and blood everywhere. It continued until 2:45 while you cleaned yourself, changed clothes, put on a fresh pad, took some painkillers, and changed the sheets. It paused for about an hour until you woke up again at 4:00, courtesy of Gotham’s patented night-life that had taught you to completely tune out the sound of police sirens. Tonight, however, they weren’t tuning out.
The sirens quieted at 4:10, by which angry tears collected in the corners of your eyes as you flopped around in bed in an attempt to get comfortable. No matter what you did, there was always something wrong; the pillow was too hard, the blanket was too scratchy, the position hurt your arm.
From 4:11 to 4:12, you screamed into your pillow.
By 4:15 you had settled in front of the TV with a bowl of dry cereal (it took everything in you not to cry over the lack of milk in your fridge), a heating pad, and your favorite comfort show queued up.
At 8 AM you managed to drag yourself to work, where you half-assed the day’s tasks, took a 15-minute break to cry in your car, then dipped out a half-hour early.
Now, at 5 PM on a Friday evening, you’re curled into the fetal position in front of your TV with your comfort show resumed and your trusty heating pad cranked to the highest setting. Prepared to spend the entire night here, you already changed into pajamas and kept a couple blankets within reach. Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, and you stretch to reach it, careful not to lose your comfortable position or roll off the couch.
Jason About to leave Be there in 20
You groan out loud. You want to throw your phone across the room, but decide against it because no amount of hormones from hell are worth six hundred dollars. You’re still angry, though, for being so stupid as to forget about the date you had planned for tonight. Scrolling up to earlier messages, you see another text from today wishing you a good morning and telling you he was excited to see you tonight. But, too down to bother checking any messages today, you had missed it.
You I can’t tonight anymore I’m sorry I don’t feel great
After hitting send, you place your phone on the ground, not even having the energy to reach for the coffee table again. Or the energy to lift your arm back up, apparently, given how it hangs limply over the edge of the couch. You feel guilty about cancelling, but you are in no state to go out tonight. You’re used to the symptoms of your period hitting so hard. As much as you and Jason care about each other, you’re not sure you’re ready for him to see you like this. You’ve managed to plan your relationship around your hormone cycle so far, but today it came early.
Your phone’s buzzing is muffled by the rug, and you almost don’t hear it. Jason’s photo is displayed on the screen.
Your hanging hand clicks ‘answer’ and puts it on speaker so you can take the call without moving from how you're curled up.
“Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m fine, I just don’t feel up for going out tonight. I’d rather stay home.”
“Did something happen?”
“No, I just got my period so I’m not really in the mood.”
“Okay, we can stay in tonight. What do you feel like eating? I can pick something up.”
“No, Jason…I want to stay home alone tonight.”
There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the line.
“Okay…did I do something?” His voice comes out a little smaller.
“No, you’re fine, I promise. I just don’t feel like seeing anyone right now.”
“…Not even me?”
Your hand presses against your temples to soothe the building tension headache. The self-doubt in his tone brings the anguish of the entire day bubbling up your throat. You feel like the worst person in the world. Exactly how you don’t want him to see you.
“Jason…it’s not you. I just…I feel like shit right now, honestly. Everything hurts, I’m miserable and sad and angry at everything, I’m breaking out all over.” You feel yourself welling up at all these little stresses coming out. “I’m craving everything but feel too sick to eat anything…I feel pretty disgusting right now, and frankly, I don’t want you to see me like this.” You finish your rant with a sniffle. You wipe your nose, trying to hold back the sob that’s threatening to break through. But at his silence, your worst, most improbable fears claw their way to the surface: he hates you now. You scared him away. You exhale heavily into your sleeve as more tears spill.
The phone is quiet for a long moment. Then; “I could never find you disgusting,” he says, gently. “But if that’s what you want, then we’ll reschedule.”
“Thank you. And sorry.”
He speaks with a tone you can’t quite parse. “Don’t apologize. Just feel better.”
-
-
-
It’s one hour after your phone call, and at the first knock, you know who it is. Who else could it be? With that soft, somewhat hesitant, one-knuckle rap on the door. Only one person knocks on your door like that.
“Jason, I told you not to come here,” you say a little more cutting than you intend to, but your back and shoulders feel like they’re about to snap under a phantom pressure and the frustration of your request being outright ignored leaves a burning bitterness that channels itself into a violent wrenching open of the door.
He jumps a little at the abruptness of your greeting. One look at your face and he visibly deflates.
“I’m sorry…I know you said not to come, but…” his gaze casts downward to his hands. You follow; he’s clutching a reusable grocery bag. Peeking out of the top is a gallon of Neapolitan ice cream. The ice cream carton’s condensation seeped through a small patch of the cloth bag and dripped onto the other items; a bushel of greens, among some other fruits and vegetables, as well as a parcel of brown paper that was fastened closed with a twine string. You return your gaze to his face.
“I think—” he cuts himself off, free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Then he drops his hand and sighs. “I’m sorry. This was a bad idea. You told me not to come here and I ignored you, but I thought…” he trails off, probably hoping you’ll say something so he can gauge your reaction.
You just stare at him.
He shifts his weight back and forth. His hand twitches.
“Okay, yeah, I’ll—”
Then, you burst into tears.
Jason’s eyes widen. He reaches out to touch you, then stops himself. “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, this was stupid. Please stop crying, I’m so sorry—” He’s panicked, trying to calm you down with apologies and soothing assurances that he will leave immediately and never go against your wishes again. All the while you stand in the doorway, blubbering like a toddler with a skinned knee, new tears forming faster than you can wipe the old ones away.
He once again raises a hand towards you, before it stutters, then clenches into a fist as if it takes all his strength to fight against the instinct to be close to you, fighting against the string that tethers him to you. He drags his hand down his face, then it falls back to his side.
“Okay, I—I’m leaving now. I’m leaving. Do you…want this?” He holds the bag out to you.
With it now in front of you, its further contents are visible. You manage to tamp down your tears enough to get a few words out.
“Did you—hic—buy me groceries?”
“Yeah…” There’s a wince in his tone, as if he’s only now realizing that his gesture is not translating as he intended.
You look back up at him with pursed lips and knitted brows, sniffling. Sure, the ice cream you can understand, but…you have no idea what to make of the rest.
The bag drops back to his side. “I figured…it’s just— it’s the stuff that you’re supposed to—” He strokes his palm over his mouth, eyes screwing shut for a moment. He huffs at himself, then continues. “I mean I’m sure you already know all of this, so maybe you already have all these things, and now I’m realizing how unnecessary all this was, and I shouldn’t have assumed—”
“Jason,” you say. Your upset has since been overshadowed by something else, though you can’t tell what it is. And your crying has stopped, but its lingering effects have you feeling congested and a little foggy. You’re half expecting this to be a fever dream that you’re moments away from waking up from in a cold sweat.
“—because obviously you know what helps you feel better much more than I do—”
“Jason.”
“And you— yeah?” His eyes are a little harried when they find yours again. But off your tired and still-confused look, he gets the message and collects himself.
“Right, yeah, I just thought that…maybe I could bring you some of the stuff with all those minerals that are supposed to help women when they’re…menstruating.” He briefly breaks eye contact at the end of his sentence, red rouge creeping up his neck.
You can’t help it; you start to giggle. You can’t remember the last time you heard a man use the term ‘menstruating’ in a non-medical context. And the fact that he’s so shy about it— upset as you may be (though not at him), there’s no denying how adorable your boyfriend is. His head shoots back to you as your laughter intensifies. He blushes harder.
“It’s not that funny,” he mutters.
You step away from the door, finally closing the space between you, and wrap your arms around his torso. Your head nestles into his chest. He gently drops the grocery bag on the ground and reciprocates your hug. He rests his chin on your head, which fits perfectly under his. Like two puzzle pieces clicking into place. You breathe him in.
“Sorry I’m such a mess,” you murmur into his shirt.
He breathes into your hair. “You have nothing to apologize for. And you’re not a mess.”
You look up, chin resting in the space between his collarbones. He looks down at you with a small smile, but some wariness is still etched into his features. Fear of unwittingly upsetting you again. He brings up a hand to push some hair out of your face and tuck it behind your ear. His hand remains there, toying with the hair that falls below your shoulder.
"Thank you for the food,” you whisper. The moment feels too intimate to speak any other way.
“I’m sorry for not listening to you. I just…” He imitates your quietness, like his admission is also too vulnerable to say loudly. “I really wanted to see you. And I hated the idea of you feeling bad about yourself, or being in pain. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Your eyes feel wet again. The first instinct is to hide your face, maybe press it to his chest once more. But, for some reason, you don’t. You want him to see you like this, messy and emotional and upset. You want him to see every part of you, and you want to see every part of him, the good and the bad.
“You didn’t.” A tear slips past the effort to keep it at bay. He shows no reaction to it, eyes never leaving yours, other than a quick swiping away with his thumb. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before. That’s why I was crying. Not because you showed up.”
“That doesn’t seem right. This is nothing. You deserve even more.”
With no words to fully, adequately communicate the blooming in your chest, you stand on your toes, reaching up to him for a kiss. But given his stature, your lips only reach his chin and brush over its underside.
At your quiet whine, he chuckles and leans down to meet you in the middle. The kiss is soft; filled with the innocence of fresh blossoms in the spring, and the sweetness of its borne fruit.
You pull away when a vicious cramp roots you back to the present. Your limps tighten around Jason with a groan.
“I need to go back inside. I’ve been away from my heating pad for too long.”
His shoulders sag when you step away from him. “Oh, um…do you still…want me to leave?”
With a simple exhale of humorous disbelief, you grasp his hand in yours and tug him to your front door. He’s like an excited puppy, eyes brightened and perking up as he grabs the grocery bag and happily trails after you.
He goes straight to the kitchen, pulling out a chair at the counter for you to settle into, then sets the bag on the counter. The ice cream carton has dampened most of the cloth by now, and likely the rest of its contents, but rather than attending to the groceries, his first action is retrieving your heating pad from where it rests on the couch. He unplugs it from the wall outlet and brings it to you. You curl up on the chair with it pressed flat against your lower stomach. It only takes a minute for the pressure in your hips to abate.
Then he moves to the groceries. The ice cream immediately goes in the freezer, and he unloads what’s remaining onto the counter, one by one, and you take note of each item. There’s spinach, carrots, apples, oranges, dark chocolate, some kind of meat wrapped in brown paper, and, strangely enough, an entire block of cheese.
You give him a quizzical look, picking it up to read the label. “You got me…cheddar cheese?”
He retrieves a cutting board and knife from its spot next to the sink, then takes the cheese from you. “Good for certain symptoms.” He slices open the plastic wrapping and cuts out some cubes with skilled efficiency. He does the same with an apple. “They all are,” he says, referring to his entire haul. He completes the makeshift charcuterie board with a couple squares of dark chocolate and slides it across the counter.
You look down at the cutting board, thinking about everything he’s done for you; everything you never even had to ask for. The words sit on your tongue, encaged by your clenched teeth; an admission that coils itself around your spine and squeezes tight, restricts your breathing and pumps your heart at thrice its speed. But you feel yourself welling up again, and the first bout of tears already exhausted you so much that all you can manage is, “I don’t know what to do with all this. I don’t have the energy to make anything good.”
But he just smiles and says, “That’s what I’m here for, honey. Can I make you something?”
You nod. He gets to work. The immediacy of his actions, how he takes no time to decide on a dish or find a recipe, makes you think his previously stated intentions of ‘just dropping this off’ were less genuine than he lead you to believe. Nevertheless, you munch on the snacks he laid out for you and watch him work. The cheese and apples are a surprisingly cohesive combination, the meshing of sweet crispiness and savory creaminess eliciting a contented sigh from you. You try to ignore the way Jason smirks in the corner of your periphery. The chocolate is incredible, yet unfamiliar. You read the label on the packaging: 80% Dark Chocolate with Cherry and Almond Filling. Even if you hadn’t tasted it yet, the quality of the packaging itself would have been enough to let you know that this chocolate is extremely high-quality. Like, special-order-from-Europe quality. Not stop-at-the-grocery-store-on-the-way-home quality.
“Where is this from? Did you buy this today?” You ask him through a mouthful of the rich, melting chocolate.
He doesn’t look up from the carrots he’s dicing. “Uh…no.”
Anyone else would attribute his avoidance of eye-contact to standard kitchen-knife caution. You are not anyone else. You could blindfold him, spin him around ten times, put a sharp knife in his hand, and he could still pull off a perfect julienne. You look closer. His cheeks are dusted with pink.
You let out a laugh. “Jason, you’re not embarrassed about liking fancy chocolate, are you?”
“No! Not at all,” he says, ceasing his chopping. He looks up, but not quite at you.
“Then?”
“‘Then’ what?” He asks.
“Then why are you being so shifty right now?” You try to catch his gaze.
“I’m not!” He defends. “It’s just chocolate! Do you like it? I’ll bring you more.” He’s stealthy with the way he avoids your eyes; you almost can’t notice how hard he’s trying not to make eye contact.
“Jason!” You reach across the counter, having to rise off the chair slightly, and take his face in your hands, making him look at you. When he does, he wears a sheepish smile.
“It’s…” His removes your hands from his face, holding them in his. He mumbles something, turning his head to the side. But you catch the tail end of it, a goading grin already creeping up your face.
“What was that?” You tilt your ear towards him, exaggerating the action.
“It’s Bruce’s.” He, in turn, exaggerates the enunciation, rolling his eyes at your simpering. “I…found it. In his pantry one day. And I liked it, so I took it. And then I…kept taking it. Every time I visited.”
You pout teasingly. “And you’re ashamed to admit that you think he has good taste in something?”
He doesn’t say anything, only hiding his face in his shoulder. You pull on your intertwined hands and he gets the message, skirting around the kitchen counter to come closer.
“You are so adorable, you know that?” You say. You reach up and pinch his cheeks. He swats your hands away, but there’s no mistaking his broad, childish grin for anything but affection.
He breaks off another square from the chocolate bar and holds it to your lips. You bite off a small portion, then push it back to him. He takes the remaining piece in his mouth and his eyes close for a brief moment as he savors the sweet, tart, and nutty flavors. You simply watch, entranced by him. Then, he kisses you. You lean into it, hands sliding up his shirt to grip the fabric and bring him even closer. His hold finds your waist.
He tastes like cherries and dark chocolate.
He breaks the kiss to rest his forehead on yours, and you want to tell him that. That, and so much more. But from the look on his face, the way his eyes find yours and the tips of his ears have a similar heat to the one in your chest, you can tell he already knows.
when it comes to jason's post-pit-repressed-teenager characterization (aka despite being older he's still as inexperienced and confused and insecure about the world outside of vigilantism and w/ women as a 15 y/o would be) (aka my favorite characterization tee hee), i think that he's mature about periods, knows they're normal and not gross or shameful etc, but still gets shy about saying the actual word, for no other reason than the 'shy around women' part always makes me giggle
also bruce is keeping the chocolate stocked specifically because he knows jason likes it and will keep taking it because he loves his son even if his son doesn't love him (he does he's just in his angsty teen 'i hate this family you don't understand me' phase rn)
divider is from here
quote at the beginning is pablo neruda <3
#more of my jason todd domesticity agenda#batman#red hood#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#batfamily#dc universe#dc comics#dcu#dc robin#robin#dick grayson#bruce wayne#damian wayne#tim drake#nightwing#red robin#red hood x reader#batfam#robin jason todd
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simon “ghost” riley taking care of you on your period
i’m on my period babes, i’m dying
he’s soft on you on those days
simon notices the signs before you do—your mood shifts, the way you hold your stomach, the sudden craving for sweets—and starts preparing without a word.
he isn’t the most verbal about it, but his actions scream i’m here for you. your favorite snacks appear on the counter, a heating pad is plugged in, and there’s a cozy blanket waiting on the couch.
he’s surprisingly patient when you’re irritable. if you snap at him, his first instinct is to check if you’re okay rather than react. he’ll raise an eyebrow, give you a soft, knowing look, and say something like, “feeling rough, love?” his tone is gentle, never teasing, and he makes sure you know he’s not taking it personally.
if your cramps are bad, he’ll sit behind you, pulling you close against his chest, his large hands resting on your stomach to rub gentle circles over the ache. his touch is warm, grounding, and it works better than the painkillers.
simon doesn’t shy away from talking about it, either. if you need him to grab something for you at the store, he’ll do it without hesitation, though he might tease you just a bit when he gets back: “thought about getting the whole aisle while i was there.”
he’s more attentive than usual, paying close attention to what you need. whether it’s water, tea, or just some space, he’s always a step ahead.
“you don’t need to tough it out, love,” he’ll remind you when you try to act like the pain isn’t bothering you. “let me help.”
if you’re in the mood for comfort, he’ll sit with you through whatever you want to watch, even if it’s something he’d usually complain about. he’s quieter during this time, more affectionate, more present.
simon’s teasing doesn’t stop entirely, though—it’s his way of keeping things light. when he sees you curled up in bed, he’ll smirk and say something like, “the queen demands chocolate again?” but he always follows through.
at the end of the day, his priority is making sure you feel cared for. he might not always say it, but the warmth in his eyes and the way he handles everything so effortlessly tells you exactly how much he loves you.
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How they tend to you after getting injured
Feat. Albedo, Childe, Kinich, Scaramouche
A/N: Slightly suggestive in Childe's part, more so in Scaramouche's
“Move it a bit for me?”
You couldn’t help but grimace a little at that prospect. “I’d rather not.”
That promptly earns you a disapproving look from the alchemist. Which is quite an unusual sight for him, you think. He must be really concerned then.
“Slowly.” A soft musing laced in his voice as his fingers gently wrap around your wrist to move your hand at a slow pace.
You hiss quietly at the sharp pain. “It’s not broken,” you state, trying to convince yourself more than actually being sure of that.
“No,” Albedo attests, touching up your wrist, careful not to hurt you further, “it’s fortunately not. Yet, your wrist is in a less-than-ideal state.”
You raise your eyebrow and reply in a flat tone, “Really.”
Albedo’s eyes meet yours, unaltered. “Positive.”
Then his brows furrow as his gaze falls on something next to you on the table. He reaches for the bottle of painkillers you took earlier, inspecting them with concerned incredulity. “My love, I hope you didn’t expect to cure a sprained bone with these pills alone?”
“Well…I mean, maybe?” you fumble with your words. “They’re good.”
Albedo can’t help the sigh leaving his lips as he shakes his head and grabs the pack of bandages, he prepared. “I will bring along some more profound remedy later if that’s alright with you.”
Carefully, he starts wrapping a string of bandages around your hand, making sure it sits steady and firm but not enough to be painful.
“Does that feel comfortable enough?” He shifts his eyes back to yours, observing closely for any indication of pain on your face.
Somehow his soft-spoken words seem to soothe the pain on their own Your heart tightens along with the last string of bandages as he seems to be so utterly tender and gentle with you.
“Yes,” you whisper. “Thank you. I’m sorry, for the fright earlier.”
“Nonsense.” Albedo gently lifts up your now bandaged hand and presses a feather-light kiss against the cloth. “I’m glad I could help.”
“You’re slacking more than usual. Where’s your fire today?”
The sounds of clashing swords against each other halt for a moment when Childe stems his sword into the earth beneath. He tilts his head as his arms sneak under to support his chin against the grip of his sword. A boyish grin on his lips as wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Long night?”
You huff, mirroring his position. “Shut up, you shithead.” He knows damn well who’s to blame for your lack of sleep recently.
But Childe only snickers, like that smug ass he is, giving you a once-over. “Oho, we have a sore loser here I see.”
“You just want me to pay for the dinner tonight.”
“Precisely.” His smirk widens. “There is an evening waiting for you full of relaxation, notorious meals and of course the best company Liyue has to offer.” Childe takes a few steps back, widening his arms out in a dramatic manner. “Me.”
“See, I’d actually beg to defy that statement,” you start as you put your sword away. But when you look back up, the single head movement causes a sudden spur, your vision adorned by black dots for a moment. “Damn,” you huff, holding onto a tree for some support.
“Woah, there.” Within a second Childe is at your side, his hand reaches out, holding you in place. “You okay?” His tone has shifted into a more serious one.
You blink and your vision clears one more. A sort of sheepish, perhaps slightly embarrassed grin settles on your lips as you meet his eyes. “Yeah. That treasure hoarder must’ve gotten me a bit harder than I’ve assumed.”
But Childe doesn’t join in on your amusement and frowns instead. “What treasure hoarder? On your way to Liyue earlier?”
Exasperated, you run a hand through your hair as you get reminded of the events earlier that day. “Unfortunately.” An annoyed scoff escapes you. “Please, it was embarrassing enough as it is. Don’t make me live through that again.”
Childe’s eyes slightly darken and he’s quiet for a moment. Contemplating. As if settling on some plan. Then from one moment to the other, his expression immediately clears up again and he ruffles your hair in an affectionate way. “I suggest, we let the food deliver to us instead and you’re gonna tell me exactly what happened, hm?”
Disgruntled, you push his hand from your head. “Childe, it’s-“
“Ah-ah, no. Concussions should be treated seriously. Off you go now.” He shoos you forward gently, but now his arm is draped around your waist, just to make sure you’ll stay on your feet. “Come now.”
“You’re walking funny.”
Confused, you turn your head back around to where Kinich is walking behind you, raising your eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
Kinich’s eyes are focused on your feet, analysing. “Did you sprain your ankle?”
“No,” you turn back ahead, “it’s not that bad.”
His fingers take hold of your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “May I see?”
You frown. “My foot?”
“Your ankle,” he corrects, his face unchanged.
“Right now?”
“Yes.” It’s obvious he isn’t up for any kind of discussion.
You look around the jungle you’re passing through. Quite the inconvenient setting.
“Kinich, I swear it’s-“
“Please.”
You nearly crumble. Both at his touch as well as the tender look in his eyes. So you relent with a sigh. “Alright, just-, “You look around for something to sit down. “Let’s get somewhere closed off, yeah?”
One settled on a nearby rock, Kinich crouches down in front of you, one hand on your calf the other on your knee. He sure seems like he’s done this a couple of times before. Well, in his line of work…
“Can you bend it?” Kinich asks then. Some strands of his hair fall into his face and you’re tempted to reach out and gently brush them away.
You blink. Focus.
“Sure. Well, I think I’d rather not bend it though.”
He hums, contemplative. “I’d rather you not as well.” After carefully checking up upon your skin and bones he looks up again to meet your eyes, a bit of a stern look on his face. More so than usual. “You realise this is swollen, right? Surely you must feel that?”
“Mayhaps,” you admit more hesitantly than he’d like.
Kinich frowns, sighs and then stands up. “Come on. I carry you. It’s not far off anymore, anyway.”
At that suggestion, your heart skips a beat. “No way.”
He crosses his arms. Then one eyebrow rises. “You think I’d dare to drop you?”
“I have dignity.” You explain and prop up your elbows as you lean back against the rock before you add, “And pride.”
“There won’t be much left of your pride if you continue to walk that way in the open.” He takes a few steps back with a glint in his eyes. “I’d put that into careful consideration as well if I were you.”
You squeeze your eyes at him. “You’re playing dirty.”
Kinich lips curve into a smile. Then he adjusts with ease and lifts you up into his arms. “And yet I win.”
You are in heaven. You could swear it.
It has been weeks now, where missions, the fatui or simple life have kept you away from each other, getting barely any time to spend.
And while Scaramouche might not outwardly admit that he’s missed you (or your touch), it is now quite evident in the way his lips adorn your skin, his fingers trailing along your body like he has to physically assure himself, you’re right here. Right beneath his very hands.
His hand slides down your midriff and his fingers grace the skin beneath your shirt, causing goosebumps to spread there. “Your fingers are cold,” you murmur dazedly between kisses, yet a slight amusement has found its way into your voice.
Scaramouche simply captures your complaint with his lips, a slight tug on his mouth. “Don’t tell me we have a temperature problem on our hands?”
“Not for long I hope,” you reply with a teasing grin and return the kiss again with more fervour. He obliges immediately.
But just as he’s about to slip your shirt over your head he pauses. You bite your lip to stop a few less-than-dignifying words from leaving your mouth and open your eyes instead. “What’s wrong? Too cold after all?”
Scaramouche’s hand tethers your waits as his gaze is locked on someplace on your ribs, the reverence from moments ago completely vanished. Now there’s a grim expression as his eyes dart down to you. “What happened here?”
You follow his line of sight where sure enough, the gash from one of your fights greets you. One, that you have perhaps pushed back farther into the depths of your mind for the sake of the moment.
“It’s nothing bad,” you explain. You feel somehow caught, trying to overplay the situation by mumbling on. “Seriously, just a stupid cut from days ago.”
“Do you think I’m stupid?” There’s an agitated tension in the room now as Scaramouche’s annoyance level rises and his expression darkens. “I know for a fact this hasn’t been here for a few days already. It’s fresh. And you’re aggravating it further.”
That prompts you to prop your elbows on the bed, frowning. “It’s not bleeding, it barely even hurts. It is fine. Absolutely. Can we just…?”
His eyes narrow at your words, jaw clenching. “Perhaps you’re the stupid one then.” He clicks his tongue in irritation and gets up from the bed, muttering some disgruntled curses.
Slowly, you sit up on the bed and pull your shirt back down to cover your midriff again. You watch him roaming around the room, gathering some utensils from the shelf at his side of the bed before he returns to sit beside you. Scaramouche doesn’t look at you. In unbent silence, he pushes you back down on the sheets to give him a better angle to the wound on your side. You swallow a grunt at the sharp pain and his grip on your waist tightens for a moment.
You observe him quietly as he works, eyebrows scrunched with his anger simmering just beneath the surface. Obviously, you’re aware that his irritation stems from the desire to keep you safe, from his protective nature, and his destined grief of you one day inevitably slipping through his fingers.
“Scara-“
“Shut up. I’m done already.”
His gaze meets yours once again and for a few silent moments, you just stare at each other, with unspoken emotions swirling around on both of your faces.
Then he suddenly scoffs and puts the utensils away. As if trying to shake off his sense of irritation. “Who risks their health in such a way just to get laid?”
You can’t help the grin spreading on your lips. “Hey, at least that’ll leave a sick scar.”
“I’m gonna murder you, y/n. I’m serious.”
He isn’t.
Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs are so appreciated <3
#albedo x reader#scaramouche x reader#childe x reader#tartaglia x reader#kinich x reader#genshin x reader#x reader#genshin fluff#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader
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What were the reactions from the family in the original timeline where reader died?
masterlist - crack baby
if u saw alfred being mentioned .. no u didnt i forgot he was dead oopsy poopsy
soul crushing guilt.
the moon is high in the sky, and everyone's gearing up for patrol, though they can each tell that there's a strange blanket of silence around the manor.
bruce is perplexed, but it's fine -- he's probably just tired, it's probably nothing.
then he sees your lifeless body in an alley and he's fighting tears, his stomach churning as he gazes down at you -- his poor baby, lying in a pool of your own blood, your eyes glazed over, lifeless.
when jason died, he vowed to never let another one of his children die ever again, not like this. so why? you weren't even a vigilante, you were just.
he dives himself into work, searching for the bastards responsible for your death, when he finds them -- he'll give them a firm beating, he'll convey his anger, not as batman but as bruce wayne.
dick is absolutely devasted, he can't bring himself to look at your body, his poor baby. you must've felt soso alone, scared as you bleed out. he wishes he could've spent more time with you, wishes that he took you out for dinner that one time. he buries himself in hero work, much like bruce, trying to distract himself -- but it doesn't work! everything reminds him of you. he wishes he could've seen you smile so widely at him, just one more time.
jason, on the other hand, doesn't try to distract himself. he reaches forward and searches for the murderes with a deep sense of rage. he understands you, he does! he knows what it feels like to be neglected, forgotten -- pushed aside as an afterthought as bruce pushes in another sibling in a place that should've been yours, you could've opened up to him, he could've looked back at you. he feels a burning hot rage, an itch for revenge -- but beneath his anger is a deep sense of vulnerability. of the knowledge that he failed you, his precious sibling. he doesn't think he can forgive himself.
tim doesn't believe it at first. you got shot on your way home from work? what a silly joke. and then he takes in the sullen expression on bruce's face and he faced with a deep sense of hopelessness. how .. unexpected. he doesn't know how to move on, you didn't play an intengral role in his life but as the days pass he's acutely aware of the small things you did that affected him, the way you would boil water before you went to bed for him, or how you'd leave some painkillers on the counter -- all those small things that seemed to meaningless to him, he's forced to acknowledge his own shortcomings as your brother. he doesn't know how to move on, he doesn't want to move on.
damian, poor damian, he's crushed. you're dead? you? his older sibling? sure, he may have bullied you since the moment you stepped into the manor, not once did he show you positive affection. but he cares for you! in his own, twisted way! he's faced with crushing guilt, unable to look in the mirror without seeing you -- without seeing the resigned expression on your lifeless face. he always knew you were weak, but dying to a few bullets? that's--.. he can't bring himself to belittle you, not anymore, not with the suffocating guilt he's forced to face.
they have no memories of you, aside from the small child you were, shyly observing from afar -- to the lifeless body you are now. they scavange for every picture they could find, anything they can to remember you by!
if only they had a chance to redo it, to show you just how much you mean to them. :(
#platonic yandere batfam#batman x reader#dc fanfiction#bruce wayne x reader#jason todd x reader#tim drake x reader#nightwing x reader#dick grayson x reader#yandere batfam#yandere batfamily#platonic dick grayson x reader#platonic batfam#platonic yandere#yandere batman#yandere bruce wayne#yandere dick grayson#yandere jason todd#yandere tim drake#yandere damian x reader
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𖥔not so gen. mouthwashing relations headcanons.𖥔˚
Written By: DeathByDay
TW - death, SA.
Includes: Captain Curly, Daisuke, and Anya
__________
Captain Curly
• This man is 100% a sucker for romance
• I’ve seen some people say that they think that he’s one to be into PDA, but honestly I just don’t see it
• Maybe a few pecks on the cheek or light hand holding, but nothing more
• He just doesn’t seem that type of guy to me
• But in private? That’s a whole different story
• He’s all on you whenever you want him to be or not, especially in the mornings
• I feel like he’d love to hug you from behind while you sleep, his nose pressed against the back of your neck while his arms are wrapped around right underneath your chest
• Would 100% wake up first like c’mon he’s literally a captain, he needs to (much to your dismay)
• But while you’re still asleep he’d plant small kisses on the back of your neck to try to wake you
• If that doesn’t work, then he’d leave the room before coming back soon enough with a cup of your favorite morning drink. Coffee, tea, milk, water, you name it
• If you came to him during a bad day, rest assured he’s gonna take care of you
• He’s running a bath with the exact temperature you wanted, laying out pajamas for you, along with towels. Probably would put bath salt in there too (if you aren’t allergic and like the feeling of it)
• Acts of service and words of affirmation are his love languages, prove me wrong. YOU CANT
• You don’t understand how bad he would feel after the crash
• Like he can’t be there for you and you need to be the one taking care of him. He just feels pathetic
• You sometimes make Jimmy let you give him the painkillers. You wouldn’t be as harsh as him, of course. Just gently slide it on his tongue and help him swallow, not shoving or pushing it down
• Anyways back to pre-crash Curly
• I think he would adore it if you ever planted kisses on his cheek, neck, or forehead (or honestly anywhere else)
• If you’re shorter than him, you’d have to grab his jawline and bring him down to your level to properly kiss. Trust me when I say he would never recover from it
• Loves kissing your neck, especially before you two begin the day together
NSFW
• Y’all cannot tell me this guy isn’t the most gentlest man in bed
• Always asking if you’re comfortable, moving at a reasonable pace until you’re ready, praising you for taking him so well, etc
• He 100% presses down on your stomach to feel how deep he is inside of you
• Gives you neck kisses while he praises you
• #need that
• I think he’d end up being more serious than silly
• Although he would occasionally chuckle at your whimpers and moans, I don’t feel like he’d actually crack a few jokes
Daisuke
• Ten thousand percent blushes at the slightest contact. Even from your hand accidentally rubbing against his he becomes a flustered mess
• Adores PDA, he doesn’t care
• But of course if you don’t, that’s fine
• Just hold his pinky finger and give him a kiss on the cheek from time to time and he’s good to go
• 100% does puppy eyes whenever he wants a kiss
• You guys could just be laying on the lounge area’s couch and he would give you those eyes. Obviously you gave him what he wanted because who wouldn’t
• When you cuddle, I don’t really see him having a favorite position. He could be the big spoon or the little spoon, he’s happy with both
• When he’s the little spoon, he’d have his arms loosely wrapped around your waist. His head would be smushed into your chest, snuggling close
• When he’s the big spoon, he’d almost always have an arm wrapped around your shoulders while being in a starfish position
• Not to mention the snoring. He snores so loud you can’t prove me otherwise. He would sleep with his mouth open, which makes it even worse
• At first, it was tricky getting used to his snoring. But after a month or two of sleeping together, you couldn’t sleep without it
• Definitely not the one to wake up first. Most of the time, you have to drag him out of the bed to get him up and get ready for the day, leading to him whining and groaning
• Physical touch has this man in a chokehold
• Whenever the two of you actually have to work, he’d be so sad to leave you alone
• But after you two finally met up after, he would blabber about what he did, who he talked to, etc. and you would listen to every detail
• 100% the one to say “gyatt” whenever you pass by him. Even if you have a flat ass he still says it
• If you ended up dying before him, this guy would actually become depressed
• We all know he started getting drunk due to the mouthwash, but that is nowhere near how much he drank when you passed away
• If he ended up dying before you, he would promise you a thousand times while he’s bleeding out that he’d wait for you
• But back to fluff
• Whenever you have a bad day, this guy is definitely not leaving you alone
• He’d cuddle you until you literally explode
• If you were to ever kiss him anywhere on his face, he’d be a blushing mess no matter how light it is
• He genuinely doesn’t know what he’s doing and just wings it with you, knowing you’d love him no matter what
NSFW
• He’s definitely a whiner
• You’d have to shut him up by either making out or keeping a hand on his mouth to muffle him
• Soft sex soft sex soft sex
• There’s no way he can take it seriously when you two are in bed. Of course he would try if you were into that, but he’d end up giggling at the end of each sentence
• 100% has a praise kink
• Please tell this man how good he’s doing at keeping you satisfied. He’d be way too embarrassed to do anything more with you if you don’t
Anya
• My poor baby
• She isn’t the best at expressing her love for you, but it’s obvious she loves you so much
• Not very big on PDA, but you do sometimes get a hug or a light peck on the cheek whenever you walk into a room she’s already in
• Will rant to you about how dumb it is that Daisuke won the game in Sorry!. She could honestly go on for hours on end
• You have to calm her down and tell her that it’ll be okay. Never tell her “it’s just a game” because then she’ll get even more upset
• When she found out she was pregnant, she felt terrible. Not just for herself but for you
• What would you think? Assume she’s cheating on you with her assaulter?
• You two were in bed when she finally broke the news to you about Jimmy and the baby. And oh my god you actually almost fought that man
• She had to hold you back from getting up from your spot. After that night, you shot daggers at that man every time you passed him. You didn’t speak to him once, no matter the situation
• You held her in your arms that night, whispering praises into her ear before she finally fell asleep
• Speaking of sleep, she adores being the little spoon while cuddling with you
• Her face smushed into your chest? Your arms wrapped around her, fingers twisting around her hair? It sounded like heaven
• I feel like Anya would be the one to wake up first
• She won’t leave you alone until you did, so it doesn’t take long for you both to be up and ready
• She would mutter petnames against your neck, pleading with you to wake up from your slumber
• 100% makes your favorite drink in the morning and makes it perfect every. single. time
• If you can’t cook, she’ll teach you
• She’s a wonderful teacher and chef. She explains everything to you correctly and soon you actually catch on
• You bake cookies by yourself (under her supervision) and if you burn them, she still praises you like you did everything right
• Whenever you get hurt, even if it’s just a scratch that’s barely bleeding, she cares for you as if you’ve broken a bone
• Both of you are each other’s protectors. She watches out for you, and you watch out for her
NSFW
• She wouldn’t be very talkative, but she would occasionally speak if you ever asked
• Ex: “Use your words, baby.” “Y/N-.. Please..”
• I feel like she’d shed a few tears whenever she becomes overstimulated, or if it’s your first time together
• Let her go as slow as she wants. She’ll eventually become comfortable enough with you, but it’ll take a few attempts
• I’m literally begging you, don’t slam your fingers, dildo/strap, or dick into her. She won’t talk to you for ages
• Don’t do anything harsh while having intercourse. I feel like she’d rather you be soft with her
• She’d be a mix of silly and serious. Drop a few occasional jokes to get her to laugh. But only do that when you two are actually moving at a good pace
• At first, I think she would be serious. If not nervous. But when you guys are finally adjusting to each other, it’s always nice to see her giggle
__________
authors note
I sincerely apologize if anyone was hoping for swansea.. I just couldn’t think of anything for him. Still wanna kiss that grumpy old man though!!
but nonetheless, I hope you all liked this<3
#mouthwashing#mouthwashing game#indie games#mouthwashing x reader#horror games#video games#x reader#writers on tumblr#captain curly x reader#anya x reader mouthwashing#daisuke x reader mouthwashing#captain curly mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing
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The Art of Surrender | LN4
❀˖°𓍼♡ summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N, dealing with back pain, reluctantly lets Lando, give her a massage. As his hands work through her tension, an undeniable chemistry builds between them. The massage becomes a turning point, revealing unspoken emotions and desires.
❀˖°𓍼♡ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader
❀˖°𓍼♡ word count ━━━━━━━ 3.1k
❀˖°𓍼♡ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content
The evening air was warm as Y/n sat on her couch, wincing every time she shifted. Her back still ached—four days later, and the damn furniture delivery was still haunting her. She’d tried everything: hot showers, over-the-counter painkillers, even a heating pad. Nothing worked. The thought of calling for help crossed her mind, but who would she call? Her friends were busy, and her family… well, they were miles away. She sighed, leaning back into the cushions just as her doorbell rang.
She frowned. Who could that be? Groaning, she pushed herself up and shuffled to the door, peeking through the peephole. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him standing there, his signature lopsided grin and those piercing blue/ green eyes. Lando.
“Hey, Y/n,” he said, his voice smooth and teasing as always. “Miss me?”
She opened the door, trying to keep her expression neutral. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged, holding up a bottle of wine in one hand and a bag of snacks in the other. “Thought you might need some company. And, let’s be honest, I missed seeing your face.”
Y/n rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. She stepped aside to let him in, ignoring the way her stomach fluttered. Stop it, she told herself. He’s just being nice. Lando had been nothing but persistent since they met a few months ago, always finding ways to show up in her life, always making sure she knew how much he liked her. But she couldn’t let herself believe it. Not really. Someone like him? It didn’t make sense.
“You look tense,” Lando said, setting the wine and snacks down on her coffee table. “Everything okay?”
“Just my back,” she muttered, sitting back down on the couch. “I had to move some furniture the other day, and now I’m paying for it.”
Lando’s brows furrowed. “Why didn’t you call someone for help?”
She shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “Didn’t think of it.”
He shook his head, chuckling softly. “You’re too stubborn, you know that?” He moved closer, sitting next to her. “Here, let me help. I can give you a massage.”
Her eyes widened. “What? No, that’s—”
“Come on,” he interrupted, his tone playful but insistent. “I’m not taking no for an answer. Besides, I’ll go get some massage oil or cream. You’ll feel better, I promise.”
Before she could protest further, he was already heading for the door, leaving her gaping after him. “Wait, Lando—!”
“Be right back!” he called over his shoulder, disappearing into the hallway.
Y/n groaned, flopping back onto the couch. This is ridiculous. But deep down, a small part of her was relieved. She trusted Lando—maybe more than she wanted to admit. When he returned, she hesitated again, but the determination in his eyes made it impossible to refuse.
“Fine,” she mumbled, leading him to her bedroom. “But just the back.”
He laughed softly. “Sure, just the back.”
Y/n disappeared into the room, shutting the door behind her. She stood there for a moment, her heart pounding. What am I doing? Slowly, she undressed, leaving only a pair of short shorts on. She glanced at herself in the mirror, biting her lip. This felt… intimate. Too intimate. But she climbed onto the bed anyway, lying on her stomach and burying her face in her arms.
“Ready?” Lando’s voice came from the other side of the door.
“Yeah,” she replied, her voice trembling slightly.
The door creaked open, and she heard him step inside, the soft rustle of the bag he carried. Moments later, she felt the bed dip as he kneeled beside her. His hands, warm and gentle, pressed against her back, spreading the cool massage oil over her skin. She shivered, not just from the temperature, but from the way his touch seemed to ignite something deep inside her.
His fingers worked expertly, kneading the tension out of her muscles. She closed her eyes, savoring the sensation. It felt incredible—too incredible. Gradually, his hands began to wander lower, skimming the sides of her waist, brushing dangerously close to her breasts. Her breath hitched, and she felt a warmth pooling between her legs.
“Relax,” Lando murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Let me take care of you.”
She nodded weakly, unable to form words. His hands continued to roam, moving toward her hips, then down her thighs. Each touch was slow, deliberate, sending jolts of electricity through her body. Her shorts felt damp, sticking to her skin, and she prayed he wouldn’t notice.
But of course, he did.
Lando’s fingers paused near the hem of her shorts, his gaze fixed on the thin fabric clinging to her. He swallowed hard, feeling his own arousal building. Fuck. He hadn’t expected this, but now that he was here, all he could think about was how badly he wanted her.
“Turn over,” he said suddenly, his voice husky.
Y/n blinked, lifting her head to look at him. “What?”
“Your front,” he explained, his eyes dark with desire. “If you want, I can massage that too.”
She hesitated, her heart racing. This was crossing a line—a line she wasn’t sure she was ready to cross. But the way he was looking at her, the heat in his gaze… it was impossible to resist.
Slowly, she turned onto her back, her cheeks burning. Lando’s eyes scanned her body, lingering on her chest before meeting her gaze. Without a word, he applied more oil to his hands and began massaging her stomach, his touch feather-light yet electrifying. Every brush of his fingers sent shivers down her spine.
Then, without warning, his hands drifted higher, cupping her breasts. Y/n gasped, her back arching instinctively. Lando’s thumbs circled her nipples, teasing them until they hardened beneath his touch. She bit her lip, trying to stifle the moan threatening to escape.
“Look at you,” Lando whispered, his voice thick with desire. “So beautiful.”
She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. For the first time, she allowed herself to truly see him—the way he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered, the way his body reacted to hers. Her eyes flickered downward, noticing the obvious bulge in his jeans.
Lando followed her gaze and smirked. “Like what you see?”
She blushed, but there was no hiding the truth anymore. “Yes,” she admitted softly, surprising even herself.
His smirk softened into a genuine smile, and he leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. “Good. Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Y/n’s breath hitched as Lando’s fingers traced the hem of her shorts, his touch feather-light yet deliberate. “Should I stop?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, his lips still close to her ear. His warm breath sent shivers down her spine, and she could feel the heat pooling between her legs.
She shook her head, barely able to form words. “No.”
His smirk returned, and his fingers slipped under the fabric, grazing the sensitive skin of her thighs. Her body tensed momentarily, but then relaxed as his hands moved higher, massaging the curve of her hips. “You’re so tense,” he whispered, his voice laced with concern. “Let me help you relax.”
She closed her eyes, allowing herself to sink into the sensation of his touch. His fingers worked their magic, kneading the muscles in her lower back before trailing down to the small of her back. She could feel the wetness between her thighs growing, a testament to how much he was affecting her.
Lando’s hands paused, and she heard him draw in a sharp breath. “Y/n...” he said, his voice husky. “You’re soaking.”
Her face flushed, but she didn’t open her eyes. “I know,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
He gently tugged at her shorts, and she lifted her hips slightly, allowing him to slide them off. The cool air brushed against her exposed skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating from his gaze. She felt vulnerable, yet completely safe in his presence.
His fingers grazed her inner thighs, and she trembled. He continued his exploration, moving closer to her core, his movements slow and deliberate. When his fingers finally reached her wetness, she gasped, her hips instinctively arching towards his touch.
“So wet for me,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He circled her entrance with his fingers, teasing her without giving her what she truly wanted.
She whimpered, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. “Lando... please...”
He chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the effect he had on her. “Please what?”
“Touch me,” she pleaded, her voice trembling with need.
He obliged, sliding a finger inside her slowly, watching her reaction intently. She moaned, her walls clenching around him as he began to move his finger in and out. Her breaths came in short, uneven gasps, and she could feel herself spiraling closer to the edge.
But just as she was about to reach her climax, he pulled his hand away, leaving her yearning for more. She opened her eyes, glaring at him. “Why did you stop?”
He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers. “Because I want to taste you first,” he whispered before capturing her lips in a searing kiss. His tongue explored her mouth, mimicking the way he wanted to explore her body.
When he finally broke the kiss, he trailed his lips down her neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses along her collarbone. He paused at her chest, taking one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking and teasing until she was squirming beneath him.
But he didn’t linger there for long. His lips continued their journey downward, kissing a path across her stomach before reaching her inner thighs. He gripped her hips firmly, holding her in place as he positioned himself between her legs.
She could feel his breath on her most sensitive area, and she shivered in anticipation. “Lando...” she breathed, her hands tangling in his hair.
He looked up at her, his eyes dark with lust. “Relax,” he said, his voice soothing yet commanding. “Let me take care of you.”
And then his tongue was on her, licking a slow, torturous path up her slit. She cried out, her back arching off the bed as pleasure coursed through her veins. He lapped at her hungrily, savoring every drop of her essence, his hands gripping her thighs to keep her from squirming away.
His tongue flicked over her clit, and she saw stars, her entire body trembling with the intensity of the sensations. He alternated between swirling his tongue around her sensitive bundle of nerves and thrusting it inside her, driving her closer and closer to the edge.
She couldn’t hold back anymore. With a final cry, she came undone, her orgasm washing over her in waves of ecstasy. He didn’t stop until she had ridden out every last tremor, his tongue continuing to tease her even as she collapsed back onto the bed, spent and breathless.
He crawled up her body, placing a gentle kiss on her lips. “You taste amazing,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe.
She smiled weakly, still recovering from the mind-blowing experience. “You’re incredible,” she replied, her voice hoarse.
He grinned mischievously, his hand trailing down her body once more. “And we’re just getting started.”
Y/n lay on the bed, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. Lando hovered above her, his eyes dark with desire, a small smirk playing on his lips. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, the tension between them so thick it was almost tangible.
“You’re beautiful,” Lando murmured, his voice low and husky. His fingers traced a slow path down her arm, sending shivers rippling through her. “I’ve wanted this—wanted you—for so long.”
Her heart skipped a beat at his words, but she still hesitated, her walls firmly in place despite the intimacy they had just shared. “Lando…” she started, unsure of how to respond.
He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers in a tender kiss that made her head spin. When he pulled away, his eyes locked onto hers. “Don’t overthink it, Y/n. I know you feel it too. This.” He gestured between them, his hand trembling slightly. “It’s real. And I’m not going anywhere.”
She swallowed hard, her defenses crumbling under the weight of his sincerity. “I… I do feel it,” she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But it scares me. You scare me.”
His expression softened, and he cupped her face in his hands. “Why?” he asked gently, his thumb stroking her cheek. “Tell me.”
Y/n took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. “Because you’re you. You’re this amazing, successful, larger-than-life person. And I’m just… me. I don’t want to get hurt if this doesn’t work out.”
Lando’s eyes searched hers, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then he sighed, resting his forehead against hers. “Y/n, you’re everything to me. Don’t you see that? It doesn’t matter who I am or what I do. When I’m with you, I’m just a guy who’s completely and utterly in love with this incredible woman.”
Her breath hitched at his confession, and she felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “You mean that?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Every single word,” he replied without hesitation. “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”
For the first time, she let herself truly believe him. Let herself trust him. Her hands moved to his shoulders, pulling him closer until their bodies were pressed together. “I’m in love with you too,” she whispered, the words feeling like a release after holding them in for so long.
A wide grin spread across Lando’s face, and he kissed her deeply, pouring all of his emotions into it. When they finally broke apart, he chuckled softly. “Took you long enough,” he teased, his tone playful.
She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help laughing. “Shut up,” she said, smacking his shoulder lightly.
He caught her hand, bringing it to his lips to place a kiss on her knuckles. “Make me,” he challenged, raising an eyebrow.
Her cheeks flushed, but she held his gaze, a spark of mischief lighting up her eyes. Slowly, she shifted beneath him, her hands sliding down to his waist. She could feel the hardness pressing against his jeans, and it only fueled her courage. “Maybe I will,” she murmured, her voice sultry.
Lando’s breath caught as her fingers grazed the bulge in his pants. “Fuck, Y/n,” he groaned, his hips thrusting forward involuntarily.
She smirked, enjoying the effect she had on him. With deliberate slowness, she undid the button of his jeans, then the zipper, her fingers brushing against the fabric of his boxers. He hissed through his teeth, his hands gripping the sheets tightly as she slid her hand inside.
Her fingers wrapped around his length, and she savored the way he shuddered at her touch. “You’re so hard,” she whispered, stroking him slowly.
“Only for you,” he managed to choke out, his eyes blazing with need.
She pushed him off of her with a playful smirk, watching as he landed on the bed with a soft bounce. Sliding between his legs, she locked her gaze with his, the intensity in her eyes making his breath hitch. She smiled softly, leaning down to press a kiss to the tip of his cock before taking him into her mouth. Lando let out a strangled groan, his hand tangling in her hair as she began to move. Her tongue swirled around him, teasing and tasting, driving him wild.
“God, you’re perfect,” he panted, his hips bucking slightly. “So fucking perfect.”
Y/n moaned around him, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through his body. Her hands roamed over his thighs, her nails digging lightly into his skin. She could feel him twitch in her mouth, hear the way his breathing became ragged.
“Y/n…” he warned, his voice strained. “If you keep going like that, I’m not going to last.”
She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with innocent eyes. “And what if I don’t want you to?” she asked, her tongue darting out to lick a stripe along his length.
Lando cursed under his breath, his grip tightening in her hair. “You’re killing me,” he groaned, but he didn’t stop her when she took him back into her mouth.
Her movements became more fervent, her lips sucking and her tongue caressing him in ways that left him utterly undone. He could feel the pressure building, his entire body tensing as he teetered on the edge.
“I’m close,” he gasped, trying to warn her again.
But Y/n didn’t stop. Instead, she looked up at him, her eyes filled with devotion, and in that moment, Lando felt his control shatter. With a guttural moan, he came, her name on his lips as she swallowed every drop.
When he finally regained some semblance of composure, he pulled her up to him, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. “You’re incredible,” he murmured against her mouth, his hands roaming over her body. Lando’s chest heaved as he pulled her up, his hands trembling against her skin. His voice was rough, still catching on the edges of desire. “I want to fuck you so bad, Y/n. But I need a minute to get hard again.”
Her lips curved into a slow, knowing smile as she shifted her weight, her thighs pressing against his hips. She leaned down, her breath warm against his ear. “I can wait. It doesn’t matter how long—whether it’s seconds or minutes—as long as in the end, I get to feel you inside me.”
His eyes darkened, a low groan escaping his throat as her words sent a fresh wave of heat through him. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, his hands sliding up her back, pulling her closer.
She laughed softly, the sound vibrating against his chest. “Good. Then we’ll go out together.” Her fingers traced the line of his jaw, her touch feather-light but electric. “Take your time, Lando. I’m not going anywhere.”
He exhaled sharply, his body already responding to her nearness, her words, her touch. “Fuck, Y/n,” he whispered, his voice thick with need. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
Her gaze locked with his, unwavering, filled with a quiet intensity that made his heart pound. “Show me,” she murmured, her lips brushing against his. “When you’re ready, show me exactly what I do to you.”
Lando’s hands tightened on her waist, his breathing uneven as he felt himself hardening beneath her. “I won’t make you wait long,” he promised, his voice rough with urgency. “Not when all I want is to be inside you.”
She smiled, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pressed herself against him. “Then take me, Lando. When you’re ready, take me and don’t hold back.”
#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula one#formula one imagine#f1 fic#formula one x reader#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fanfic#formula one x y/n#f1 x you#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#lando norris fanfic#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris#ln4#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x you
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Thinkin’ about Price, who’s on med leave and under strict orders not to engage in any strenuous activity, begging his controversially young wife to take pity on an old man and fuck him.
Your daughter is born nine months later. You like to joke she exists bc your husband was actually home long enough to put a baby in you.
NOW YOU GOT ME THINKIN ANON—
MEDICAL LEAVE
𝜗𝜚 the one where john's finally home long enough to get you pregnant
𝜗𝜚 pairing: john price x younger wife!reader (reader is afab) 𝜗𝜚 cw: smut (minors—DNI), age gap (price is in his late 30s, reader is late 20s), mentions of surgery/recovery, john having a pain kink (need i say more?), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it/get tapped), unedited as usual, bad ending
"john, the doctor had strict orders for you to—"
you're cut off mid-rant by john slotting his lips over yours, the mitts of his hands covering your cheeks and tugging your face closer to his. his tongue juts out to lick needily at the seam of your lips, the faint taste of the painkillers he had just taken still fresh on his tastebuds only to be replaced by the sweet mint of your toothpaste.
john would've kept kissing you, too, if he hadn't tried to twist his hips over to face you, making him pull away sharply and hiss out at the way the fresh sutures etched in his ribs twinged in pain.
"john—"
"m'fine," john grunts out hoarsely as he lays back down flat on his back, eyebrows pinched low in the middle of his forehead and tongue licking at the remnants of your spit on his lips. "just wanna—christ—wanna be inside ya."
and that’s how you got to your current position, sitting directly behind john’s thick and leaking cock as you lean back to rest your hands on his hairy muscled thighs—anywhere that wasn’t sutured closed or bruised from the surgery he’d undergone. from beneath furrowed brows, your soft eyes focused on the molten heat buoying in his pupils.
“i don’t wanna accidentally hurt you, john,” the end of your sentence comes out pinched in a whine as the calloused pad of his thumb begins circling your sopping clit, your hips jumping at the stimulation and instinctively rolling forward against his sensitive cock.
john uses the thumb petting at your clit to distract you from the way he manhandles you up, notching the head of his cock between your folds and holding you there for a moment. “i don’t fuckin’ care if it hurts, ‘lright? don’t wan’ you stoppin’ until i feel you cummin’ ‘round my cock four times, and i fill up this pretty fuckin’ pussy—understand me?”
and even though john’s cemented into your shared bed on his back, he keeps you all nice and obedient under his thumb, using the hand he keeps groping at your hip as a way to guide the way your movements. every so often, his sutures would twinge in just a way to send a jolt of pain up his spine—but then he would feel your gummy walls gripping his cock just a little tighter, and the pain would warp into delicious pleasure.
you, ever the good little wife you were, did exactly as john told you—only pulling off of him when your fluids were a messy mixture between my thighs and you could barely walk to the bathroom on wobbly legs.
it didn’t even cross your mind when a month and a half later, you’re a mess of hormones and continuous morning sickness that threatens to knock you out from work for a couple days. john tells you it’s fine, that he’ll work some more late nights to cover your income for a couple days, but you’re determined to keep working.
only after nearly fainting at your home one morning (after john fucked you through at least 2 orgasms) did you find yourself on the doctor’s examination table, fingers nearly snapping john’s hand bones in half when he read off the positive pregnancy result.
and when your daughter is born nine months later (december 14th, by the way—a sagittarius baby), you’re curled up in the hospital bed with john holding you closely, the baby sandwiched comfortably between you two and grappling at one of his thick fingers.
“y’know how long i’ve been waiting for this?” you giggle out softly as you nose against john’s beared jaw, eyes fluttering closed and system overflowing with painkillers and endorphins. “guess you were finally home long enough to actually put a baby in me this time.”
©️ ink-n-shadow 2024
do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission
#honestly i want john to get me pregnant like asap#or i can get him pregnant#either way#call of duty#cod mw2#john price x reader#john price cod#john price#captain john price#john price x you#captain price#task force 141#iNs Captain John Price 🎗#call of duty modern warfare#price cod#cod mwii#cod#john price smut#tf 141#john price x reader smut#john price x you smut
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boyfriend!satoru and boyfriend!suguru when their gf is sick 🤒
“come on baby you’ve been asleep for ages,” suguru calls down the corridor towards your shared room. he makes his way over to your sleeping form smiling at the little lump you had become under the pile of blankets.
“hi princess-“ he stopped his petting of your head when he made contact with your forehead, the heat permeating from your skin immediately drawing his attention.
“oh no baby you’ve got a temperature.”
you weren’t understanding anything he was saying, he almost looked like a ball of colour to your disassociating yourself.
“mmmf”
“i know baby, i know. satoru! satoru come here. gimme a second princess.”
“mmf”
“hello what am i missing out on?”
“go and get me pain killers and a cold towel, oh and an orange and a bottle of water.”
“why what’s happening oh my god what is happening?”
“satoru stop it she’s fine it’s just a temper-“
“A TEMPERATURE? i’m sure hospitals have stuff for that?”
“satoru. get the stuff i asked for please.”
you barely registered the blankets being stripped off of your body until you felt a slight breeze on your torso.
“noo no cold please.”
“baby i’m sorry, you have to regulate your body temperature okay?
then he was lifting your head and adding extra pillows under your neck.
“sugu i don’t feel good :( “ you said in your tiny little voice. just barely a whisper but he heard you all the same.
“i know baby, it hurts doesn’t it?” he was practically petting you between your brows like one would do to a kitten.
“you’ll be better in no time hmm? we can sit and watch movies and then when you’re feeling a bit better i’ll make you some nice warm food yeah?”
and before you could reply there was a loud bang at the door signaling your other boyfriend’s arrival.
“where’s the casualty!”
“satoru not so loud, what’s all that?”
you turned your head towards your white haired partner and took in his arms, full to the brim with nearly everything from your kitchen cabinets.
he had every fruit from the fruit bowl, three flavors of juice, 5 types of painkiller, 2 couch cushions, what looked like four bath towels? and even some chocolate bars. he dropped it all dramatically as he climbed next to you on the bed.
“oh my god baby we’re gonna overcome this don’t worry. aw look at you.”
and his hands were pawing at your sweaty hair and back.
“satoru she’s okay don’t worry, a temperature isn’t anything to be worried about.”
“we should take all the necessary precautions.”
“do you know what the necessary precautions are?”
he stared blankly before kissing you all over your cheeks and eyelids. suguru couldn’t help but chuckle at his boyfriends actions, he knew satoru was only trying to lighten your mood with his silly antics. suguru took a dampened towel and started to gently wipe your back with it as satoru stroked your hair and whispered words of love to you.
“baby you want us to run you a bath?”
“yes please.”
with the amount of love in this very room you were bound to recover in no time.
a/n : hope u guys like them as much as I do 🧸
#jjk#jjk x you#gojo satoru#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo fluff#gojo saturo#jjk geto#geto x reader#geto suguru#satosugu#satoru x you#getou suguru x reader#suguru geto smut#satoru x suguru#jjk satoru#jjk x reader#jjk fanfic#tojbnuy#stsg
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Fantastic Breasts and Where to Find Them
aespa Karina x m!reader
10k words
---
Read on AO3
Masterlist
"What time is it?" Karina asks as she stumbles into the kitchen, a half awaken mess, dark locks all disheveled in a white top and tight shorts. "Jesus, my fucking head..."
"Nearly one."
"Shit," Karina hisses. "I had a test in the morning, didn't you hear my alarm go off?"
"You think I can hear anything over you snoring?" you ask, glancing up with a playful smile as Karina sits opposite you at the kitchen table, resting her face in her palms. "You barely made it inside before I had to lug your body onto the couch.”
"Hey, I don't snore," Karina scoffs, giving you a dirty look with bleary eyes as she runs fingers through her messy hair in a feeble attempt to look presentable.
"Oh, of course you don't. Which is why I could hear you all the way upstairs. Pretty sure the entire neighborhood could."
"Shut it," she snaps back with as much bite as she can muster, though can't keep that grimace on her features for long before a tired grin escapes. "The last thing I remember is Yizhuo holding my hair up while I—well, you don't need to know the rest."
“Sounds like you had a fun night.”
"Fantastic," Karina responds with all the sarcasm she can manage. Her gaze immediately turns towards the coffee maker—the only thing that matters during this hellish hungover state.
“Coffee should still be warm,” you say, not missing a beat. “But take this first, it'll help."
Karina eyes the two painkillers in your hand with a grateful look as she scoots forward and reaches to accept a glass of water, tossing her head back a bit before chugging it all a single gulp.
"You're a lifesaver. I'm so embarrassing, you shouldn't have to keep taking care of me. Thank you," she says with a quick smile, gently placing the empty glass down, then heading straight for the coffeepot.
"Don't worry about it. It's what I'm here for."
"You should have been there last night then, maybe could have kept me in check. I'll never drink that much ever again."
Karina cradles a freshly poured mug of hot coffee as she makes her way back to the table, taking a seat ever so carefully, trying not to fall over in the process. She rubs her temple in gentle circles, feeling like absolute hell as she tests the coffee with a sip of uncertainty.
"You've said that the last couple times," you tease, leaning back in your chair as you focus back on your laptop screen and the paper that you’ve been working on all day. "You know that's not really my thing. As much as I enjoy watching other people make an idiot out of themselves."
"At least I could have had someone to talk to. The only person I knew was Yizhuo, and she was so busy making out with anyone with a pulse that I didn't say more than three words to her."
"Yizhuo?" you ask.
"You've met her, haven't you? She's one of my best friends."
"Don't think I have."
"Right, well—she'll sleep with anyone that so much looks at her," Karina chuckles as she savors the delicious warmth of coffee down her throat. She takes another careful sip and her eyes close, wondering if the throbbing in her head will ever subside.
"She's learned from the best, I suppose."
"Hey!" she says, faux offense laced in her tone, placing down her mug. "Don't compare me to that slut. I've got standards at least."
"Really?"
“I'll have you know, I don't sleep with everyone,” Karina huffs, turning her face away to sip at her coffee some more, but you can't resist the urge to tease her even further in her current state. "Just a few lucky guys. Sometimes two at once. Or three. But nothing crazy, I'm not a slut."
"Wouldn't dare even think of using that word on you, Rina."
"See, not like Yizhuo at all, not desperate and willing to suck and ride anything in sight. Besides, it's been like over a month since I've last gotten laid,” she says, out of nowhere. You let out a dry laugh, unable to believe your ears. It's strange, seeing Karina's pale skin so flustered, because clearly even she can’t buy that.
“I’m serious!”
"The walls say otherwise, you know. You're a terrible liar, Rina." From first hand experience, you know how thin these walls are—being able to overhear her muffled cries of ecstasy, every vulgar utterance from Karina's room, each time she sneaks home a stranger who has the absolute honor of getting to pound her senselessly.
"W-what, I'm not!" Karina blurts out, face getting even redder, so frazzled with that thought. "That—you were probably just hearing all that porn you keep on your laptop. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about the weird, kinky shit you’re into.”
Pausing for a moment, she gives an impish grin, so pleased with herself for trying to turn things around. You could call her bluff, but even better, you’ll come up with one of your own, something equally preposterous and absurd.
"Me? I don't even watch porn," you say somehow with a straight face, and it's such a ridiculous statement you can hardly finish getting the words out. Karina puts her mug down and brings her arms over her chest, letting out a small sigh before glaring across the table.
"Is that so? Now who's the terrible liar?"
"Believe what you want. This laptop is for school work only. Nothing else."
"Didn't realize I was living with such a prude," Karina says, as a teasing grin slides along her features. "All those times I've brought home a guy to fuck my brains out—I guess I've been making you feel extra uncomfortable."
"No, not at all, Rina. I just focus on my studies instead of how loud I can hear you scream through the walls. Noise-cancelling headphones do wonders," you say, doing your best to keep a stoic expression on your face. But Karina isn't having any of your bullshit. Not when she's sitting across from you with a smug look and trying her damndest to get you to break this facade.
"Look," Karina sighs dramatically, turning her head to face you directly. "There’s no fooling me. You don't have to act like you don’t enjoy listening to me getting railed. And you'd be lying if you told me you've never been turned on from all that. Just admit you've touched yourself to the sounds of it, and we'll leave this alone."
"Can't say I've done that either."
"Stop—" Her brow arches in frustration, and she can't even hide the smile beginning to break along her lips. "I get it, you're a better liar than I thought. You don’t have to keep pretending."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." You think you deserve an award for not laughing your ass off at this point, but it's an ongoing struggle to keep this going. The best part is that Karina is so insistent on it, completely unwilling to let this go until she gets you to admit that she's caught you.
"Oh, come on, you've jerked off at least once or twice while listening to me, don't play dumb. Like you said, the walls are thin. I can hear when you're getting off too, you know."
"You've got a wild imagination, Karina. I've done nothing of the sort. The only thing I care about is getting a good night's sleep and graduating with honors."
"Fuck that, no one can study constantly. If it wasn't for me getting railed on the regular, I wouldn't even survive. I'd probably drop out and become a bartender or something. Getting dicked down does wonders."
"Everyone has their own ways of dealing with stress. Sex obviously isn't mine."
"Stop, you're such a fucking liar," Karina almost yells, frustration bubbling up as her arms cross even tighter, unable to stop the laughter that slips out. "There's no way that you're studying, what, seven days a week, without getting yourself off? Everyone has horny thoughts, especially guys. I know there are hot girls in your classes, there's no way you aren't fantasizing about them."
"I’m not. Too busy learning about the wonders of—"
"Shut the fuck up," Karina snaps in the most exaggerated tone, leaning forward, trying her hardest to hide her smile and fight whatever antics you keep coming up with. The longer this goes on, the more she breaks out into giggles. It's rather amusing seeing her get worked up like this, the little scrunched face she pulls and the exasperation that oozes from every word, knowing you aren't telling the truth one bit.
"You're not that studious. I've lived with you long enough to know that you're not the nerdy type. I'm right, I know I've seen you come home late. Don't deny it!"
"There's a really nice coffee shop that's by campus open rather—" you begin to say, not exactly sure how you haven't broken down laughing by now.
"Don't you dare tell me you're studying at one in the morning instead of getting your head trapped between some pretty girl's thighs," she interrupts in an instant, gaze piercing right through you. And no longer can you keep a straight face for another second longer, looking away to stop from grinning. But that might be a mistake. As you happen to glance back, Karina gets up out of her seat, this devilish expression as she strides around the table towards you. "If you aren't gonna be honest—maybe I'll just have to get the truth out of you."
Before you can even react, Karina swipes up your laptop with lightning speed and slams the lid shut, not caring for anything else as she drops her weight in your lap. It takes you by surprise, and by now, she has to know how close you are to breaking, deciding to pull out all the stops to try to win her little game of bullshit. "Oh, so you've suddenly gone mute."
And Karina gets impossibly close, staring into your eyes, enough so you have no other option but to look directly in her deadly gaze. She wraps her arms around the back of your neck, resting her hands there, a smirk curling up her lips as she tries to break your resolve all at once.
The way she looks at you is unbelievably seductive, which might be the reason your heart beats faster, with how gorgeous she is up close. That confident little smirk refuses to leave her lips, the scent of her perfume strong in the air, making everything more difficult to endure. It's impossible for you to hide all your weaknesses. And even more impossible to stash your sudden shyness while Karina traces light patterns upon your neck as she lets out another giggle when you start avoiding her eye contact.
"You're cute when you're nervous," she says, that deep voice dripping with nothing but sin and seduction as she takes your chin, lifting you towards her. It's difficult to look away or hide, with her looking right into your eyes—a sharp, penetrative gaze that you can’t flee from, especially not when she gets this close, feeling her warm breath on your skin.
“Tell me—where's that confidence from a few minutes ago gone? A pretty girl sitting on your lap is all it takes for you to break?" Karina purrs against the shell of your ear, lips hovering dangerously close.
You stay silent, muscles all tensed up, breathing audibly and wanting nothing more than to pull away. And it only gets worse when her fingers run lightly through your hair, messing it up playfully as her breath lingers. "Hm? Still not talking? When did you ever get shy with me?"
Karina knows she's won.
As she presses up against your chest, drawing ever so slightly nearer, it's in that brief second when the warmth of her body against yours completely overwhelms you. There's no defense left against her little game of interrogation.
"Let's be real, I know you're jerking off every chance you get, especially when I have a dick inside me," she coos with the most angelic smile you've ever seen, eyes brimming with delight, her touch following the path of your body and taking pleasure in seeing all the little reactions she steals from you.
"But there's nothing wrong with that. Hell, I want you to. The thought of you stroking your cock with the image of me naked and getting fucked turns me on. Knowing my loud moans and screams are the perfect inspiration for your orgasm—that makes it all better, doesn't it?" Karina brushes her lips right into the crook of your neck as she whispers all these obscenities, making damn well sure you hear every single word.
You’ve completely frozen up. It’s not like you to be so demure, but also this isn’t like Karina.
"Oh, you wish it was you, don't you?” Karina asks, memorizing every detail in your expression. ”Poor thing, being stuck as my roommate—having to deal with the fact you aren't fucking me from behind, playing with my tits, and smacking my ass hard until my cheeks sting."
Seeing the clear frustration in your expression puts a smirk on her face again, experiencing the thrill of finally having the upper hand on you. Karina knows she has all the leverage, right here, right now.
"I know you're not the least bit innocent. Not with the way you looked at me when you saw me in nothing but a towel, fresh out of the shower, my naked tits still wet. I bet that made you jerk off right away, didn't it?"
"R-rina—" You finally manage to utter out her name after some considerable struggle, at a complete loss for words. Because this isn’t at all how you expected this to go, but she's right about every single detail, and you find it harder and harder to deny it.
"What is it, sweetie? Have something you wanna say? Wanna tell me the truth? That you fantasize about me all the time, don't you?" And Karina keeps leaning in closer, getting all the answers she wants before you can speak another word.
"Y-yeah, I—"
"Use your words. You can do that for me, can't you? Tell me all the things you can't stop thinking about."
"Fuck, Karina—it's the only thing I think about in the mornings. And at night. Every single day. Even when you haven't had anyone over in a while, I just think about fucking you, what that body looks like naked, how those huge tits would look bouncing in my face.”
You’ve cracked. And there’s no going back now.
"Go on, don't stop there, sweetheart. It's too late to be shy now." Karina smiles so pleasantly and cups your face to keep you from looking anywhere else, her tone immediately shifting. "Tell me you wanna fuck me. You want my tight pussy to swallow up your cock until I can't walk properly tomorrow. You've always wanted that, right?"
"Y-yes, god yes, that's—that's what I want. Wanna bury myself deep inside you, squeeze those perfect tits and fuck you so hard until I unload everything inside."
"See how easy that was? Turns out you’re not very innocent after all, are you?" And Karina seals your confession with a deep kiss, drawing you into a rather warm, heated embrace as she nips at the bottom of your earlobe, giving it the lightest tease before letting go.
"Let's give you everything you've ever wanted, sweetie."
Karina tears herself from the kiss, just so she can run her tongue along your bottom lip and get another taste for herself. A slight pant, and she doesn't waste another minute getting rid of her shirt, exposing her bare skin and massive tits no fabric can contain.
Your pants, they grow tighter in an instant. Those huge tits, the deep cleavage—they're nothing but hypnotic. Karina watches you stare with wonder for several long moments before unhooking her bra to get the entire picture. You swallow hard, eyes going wide as her breasts spill out from their restraints, pale and so fucking perfect, and god, you can't even think straight from how absolutely delicious they look.
Karina leans back to unveil her bare breasts in full view, and even the slightest movement makes them bounce gently. They're practically begging to be touched, and there's no hope of looking away. "Are they everything you ever imagined?"
A nod comes almost automatically in response, captivated by those enormous mounds with the prettiest nipples you've ever seen. Your roommate takes hold of your wrists and leads you to feel every last inch of her luscious pair, right where she knows your fingers want to go.
"Go on, show me exactly what you've always dreamed about, sweetie." Hardly able to believe what’s happening, you take the plunge as you indulge, these tits soft and supple in the palm of your hands. The full weight of her breasts is everything, Karina exhaling a breathy whimper when you massage them with a perfect grip, lightly squeezing, testing their sensitivity.
“You don't have to be gentle. You've wanted to play with these tits so bad, right? Don't hold back now,” Karina says with such a sweet voice. So you take her permission to heart, getting two full handfuls of creamy flesh to squeeze greedily and grope to your heart's desire.
You’re practically speechless. Nothing could ever match the way they fill your hands when you knead them, fingers digging into all that flesh to press them together, only to release and have them bounce, this recoil that seems almost unreal.
"God, these tits—they're fucking incredible, you know that?"
"Oh these? I’m sure all those times you'd peek down my top gave me a clue you’d love them. And you haven't even had them in your mouth yet," Karina says as she reaches for the back of your head. In an instant, she shoves your face right into the delicious valley of her pale breasts, suffocating you with all the softness and warmth of her plentiful chest provides. Her huge tits completely consume your vision, and there is no fighting the urge to lick a stripe down that cleavage to take in the first taste.
It only gets better as she encourages you, tightening fingers in your hair when you run your tongue around her stiff little nub before closing your lips around it, capturing it to suck softly. A delightful shudder rocks her, gasping loudly, and Karina guides your movements, keeping your attention spread out across both breasts to ensure the other isn't getting left behind.
"Good boy," she hums with all the satisfaction in the world, gripping harder when she presses you back into her chest, helping you indulge in this buffet that's been laid out before you. "You’ve been waiting forever for a chance to suck on these tits, haven’t you?"
You refuse to answer with words, replying instead with more frantic sucking, the nipple between your greedy lips growing wetter and wetter. But your free hand stays occupied, as you squeeze the other breast not in your mouth not so gently, sinking into the softness even further. Hungrily, you move between them, feasting on those divine tits to satiate all of your desires, and you’ll suck on them forever if she'll let you.
There's no better treat than the way she feels in your palms and all over your lips. Not now—not while all this lust floods your veins. Not while she whimpers, your actions gaining speed, faster and faster to keep Karina's sensitive nipples trapped in your lips and suck harder. She lets out her moans, a gorgeous sound that echoes, and you can feel every vibrating sound rippling through her ample chest.
"Jesus, your mouth is amazing," she breathes through all the gasps and the moans, all those noises a pure sign of encouragement that drives you forward, until you need a moment to draw a desperate breath. It doesn't stop there. You resume immediately, introducing a bit of teeth to nibble down into the smooth, pink buds, because like you've been told, there's no need to be gentle. Not when Karina clearly prefers it like that, tugging a fistful of your hair, hoping you'll get the message to apply just a little bit more pressure.
All of this attention you're giving her gets Karina nice and bothered, mouth hanging open as she pants to control her breathing. You could stay here forever, happily settled with a pair of tits stuffed into your mouth. Maybe she lets you. Maybe you spend an eternity exploring that delicious rack, because it can never truly satisfy your craving for them.
"Mmm, feels so fucking good," is how she answers your teeth dragging across those wet nipples, whining when it suddenly leaves, depriving her of your lips just you can stare longingly at the swell of her heavy breasts once again.
You have to admire your work on her sensitive breasts when you pull back, swimming in bliss as you see the sight of them glistening with your saliva, nipples so visibly hard and drenched now. There's no denying how much you love having Karina's huge tits all to yourself, how you just want to drown in all this soft, pale flesh.
"Don’t tell me you’re done already?" Karina asks, disappointment in her tone while she strokes the back of your head. "I can feel how fucking hard that cock of yours is from just sucking on my tits…"
Once again, you have no response, still lost in a fog of lust as you squeeze those supple mounds, giving another tender lick to those nipples covered in spit to get the smallest gasp from her lips. "I could play with your big fucking tits all day.”
Karina giggles, content to let you do just that. "Well, you've earned that, sweetheart. But I think we should move this to the bedroom, so we can get more comfortable, and maybe you can get me out of these clothes?”
"Yeah—right, bedroom," you repeat, distracted by how tantalizing her perfect tits look still soaked with your spit. She laughs and offers up a hand to help pull you to your feet, taking the chance to sneak another kiss before you get too far apart.
You’re dragged along up to her room, left to gawk over her body as you follow obediently. Those shorts are just a bit too tight to hide any details of her curvy ass, which sways rhythmically with every last step. The second the bedroom door shuts behind you, Karina pulls you right into another embrace, a hot and needy kiss, your hands finding their place on her slender waist you plan to become familiar with.
"Get me naked like you've always fantasized," Karina says the instant your lips separate, heading towards the bed without waiting for your response. You don't have to be told twice, too eager to find out how the rest of her body compares as she bends over, placing her hands on the sheets.
The scene in front of you sends a rush of anticipation, and immediately, you reach for those ridiculously tight shorts, pausing a moment only to feel just how firm Karina's butt is under them. This all feels like a dream, one that you hope stays a reality as your eyes aimlessly wander all over this flawless skin.
Her huge breasts push into the mattress, so soft and inviting, fighting for your attention from that backside, and this is already so overwhelming, before you’ve even seen what’s underneath here.
"Taking your sweet time, hm?" she teases, rolling her hips ever so slightly, hoping to hurry your pace, a hint you gladly take without an ounce of hesitation. Undoing her zipper takes only seconds, and Karina's smooth, pale thighs become more exposed as you gradually peel her shorts down inch by inch. The curve of her ass nearly spills out from the pink thong you've seen for the first time, and this sight is almost as breathtaking as her massive chest.
"Only get to do this for the first time once."
“You poor thing. Guess I can’t blame you.” Slipping out of her shorts with ease, Karina makes them drop to the floor where they can be easily forgotten. You're left frozen in awe at the perfection of her full, plump ass that looks far too good in this thong, and those creamy thighs that must feel like heaven wrapped around your head.
"Come on, take my panties off too. You want a full view of this all, don't you?" Once you're done admiring her shapely ass, Karina turns her gaze over her shoulder, that smile far too much to deny. And as much as you want to keep staring, your hands already move on their own, desperate to finish what you've started.
Running your fingertips under the waistband, you tug that thin fabric right off, to reveal the fullness of those scrumptious cheeks and that pink, glistening pussy that looks too mouthwatering to resist.
Now it all comes together.
Karina is flawless, every deadly curve, every inch of milky white skin exposed, giving you yet another reason to stare at that sinful figure. There's no fighting the urge to squeeze what your fingers can sink into, taking a nice handful of her shapely rear that you can’t take your eyes off. It's an addiction without a cure, groping those juicy cheeks that are the definition of perfection, and you can't decide which part of her you want to worship the most.
"Such a pervert," Karina giggles, and this time you can’t say you disagree with that.
"Never said I wasn't." There's no point in denying what she clearly already knows, not when you can't look anywhere else. Not after being denied the privilege of her body until this moment—you've got some time to make up.
"The first time you've seen me naked and all you can do is stare?" Karina quirks an eyebrow, putting her hand on her hips, to display that body deserving of all the praise you can give her. She closes the distance between the two of you in just a few short steps, grabbing hold of the collar on your shirt. "How about you show me something too while you're drooling?"
There's no hesitation on your end, knowing what’s expected as you pull your shirt over your head and drop it on the ground to join her clothes. Karina runs a fingertip along your bare chest, an approving smile spreading over her lips while her eyes glance over you carefully, this newfound hunger in her eyes.
"Much better," she says, and now you're the one who's being gawked at, shirtless, under the gaze of your undeniably stunning roommate who can't help herself from exploring your body. You can’t say you don’t mind the attention at all.
She traces the outline of your biceps, grazing along your shoulders, then down to your abdomen, leaving a faint, teasing touch to test the reaction she receives. And then, with no warning, those fingers move lower to palm your growing bulge so blatantly straining through your pants.
"You're so fucking hard, it must be painful. But this time, I can help you with that. What do you wanna do with me, sweetheart?"
Where do you even start? Never did you expect to be caught in a moment like this, your roommate fully naked, stroking her hand along the length of your clothed cock, ready to finally do something about this pent-up tension she's caused. The possibilities are endless—but when Karina is looking at you like this, her fingers making your cock throb, waiting for you to choose, it's hard to think straight.
"Can't decide? I don't blame you. But don't worry—I know just what we can start with." You don't have time to guess as Karina takes the lead and pushes you back towards her bed, patting the mattress. "Be a good boy and sit here, and I’ll take care of you."
Karina drops to her knees ever so slowly and licks her lips. Before you realize what's going on, she's pulling down your pants, boxers falling shortly after, and now she can see exactly what you were hiding underneath, this hard shaft that's been desperate to spring loose.
"Oh my god, your cock—it's gorgeous, sweetie," Karina gasps, staring right at your stiff shaft twitching impatiently just for her.
There's barely a chance to process everything happening before she reaches forward, running a curious finger up the underside of your cock and watching the resulting shudder. Those pretty fingers wrap around your aching length, and Karina smiles up at you with pure delight in her eyes as she jerks your cock slowly, discovering all these new reactions you make.
"Karina," you gasp out, almost choking, a shiver running down your spine at that light stroke—almost too fleeting for it to bring any pleasure. She repeats, with more enthusiasm, tightening her grip and using the clear liquid that leaks out to aid the movement of her fingers.
"Look at you, so fucking hard, throbbing so much for me. You like that? My hand wrapped around your cock?"
Karina has this look on her face that has no business being that damn innocent, not with those fingers squeezing you just right, or those huge breasts that shake ever so slightly with each pump of her fist. When she begins to pick up the pace, working you faster, twisting her hand up and down the length of your hard shaft, the urge to do anything but moan becomes near impossible. “You really do, don’t you? Well then, how about this—“
A string of spit falls onto your cock, smearing over her palm to slicken your shaft. She leans down to part her lips, hot breath hitting your shaft for the first time as she takes the entire head in her mouth and starts to gently suck, tongue working right behind.
"Shit, oh my god, Karina—“
She’s got you in her sights, and there's nothing to do but surrender completely to the pleasure, eyes locked with her as she keeps those lips sealed tight, the wet warmth of her mouth engulfing you little by little. Karina's response comes in an instant, bobbing her head, slurping down on your shaft so greedily, showing all the appreciation you’ve earned.
It's when her gaze flickers upwards to see your expression that it really becomes the death of you—the sight of her staring, with her round doe eyes, sucking and lapping around your shaft so eagerly is just too much to take. And if that wasn’t enough, her cheeks hollow out, every long pass making the view even better—this filthy slurping and sucking as her drool starts to run down your shaft, spilling from the corner of her lips to create the perfect picture.
It's messy and wet, the sounds that accompany this sloppy blowjob only adding to the heat that's building. Her tongue doesn't stay dormant, sliding up and down and flicking around your swollen cockhead as she tastes what her lips aren't currently around.
"Your mouth, god, your mouth feels fucking incredible—" is about all you can gasp.
"Did you expect anything else?" Karina asks as she takes more of your cock, swallowing deep down without warning, bobbing faster and going just a little further to see how many inches you can handle down her throat.
Her mouth feels like heaven, so slick and warm, with those luscious lips wrapped so tightly around your throbbing cock. A steady back and forth rhythm keeps up to take more, over and over, until every inch is nestled firmly into the tight grip of her throat. “I've been missing out on sucking this beautiful cock of yours—mmph."
Her mouth only gets messier as she slurps and swallows you down, resting her palms on your bare thighs, taking down your length with far more vigor than you could hope for. This blowjob is effortless on her end, a routine, and Karina doesn't pause to catch her breath or rest her throat—she’s driven, determined to keep her spell on you, without a moment where she even looks close to gagging.
"How does that mouth feel on your cock, sweetie?" Karina asks. The words come so easy between slurps and sucks on your aching shaft, getting wetter from all the slick saliva that helps keep you buried down her throat.
"So fucking good," you groan, tilting your head back, and there isn't anything else you could think of to properly praise this work. That's all Karina wants to hear.
"Then let me make you feel even better,” she tells you, flashing a wicked smile with a gleam in her eye that has your cock pulsing hard between her lips. Before you can question a thing, her mouth releases your slick cock, taking these lazy strokes to keep you nice and stiff. There’s a moment where nearly nothing happens, aside from her staring and pumping your cock. The silence lingers. Until finally, she takes your cock, hard as can be—
Karina guides it directly between her enormous breasts. You can hardly breathe, much less speak, and your jaw practically drops when you feel the soft flesh of her massive chest wrapped snugly around your shaft. Her hands come together, fingers interlocking, pressing those tits tighter against your length and that devilish smirk returns as she looks down at the surprise and joy in your expression.
And you can hardly believe the sight when she begins to rock her chest, trapping you between her tits with no chance to escape. The friction picks up, sliding the entire length of your cock with no intention of slowing down or stopping, and Karina stares right into your eyes, admiring the pleasure written all over your features to make sure you commit this to memory.
With her tits wrapped so perfectly around your cock, you won’t last long. But that doesn’t matter. You’ll enjoy every second. Every delicate squeeze, every lingering moment her fingers massage the base of your needy, throbbing shaft. And when she spits between her deep cleavage to make the friction even better, a slicker mess for your cock to slide between, that’s how you start to lose it.
“Jesus, Karina—feels so fucking good, oh my god.” It took so long getting used to the blissful suction from that pretty mouth, but this? There isn't any way to survive these full breasts that keep your entire length enveloped in such perfect warmth.
“Does it? Love how good your cock looks between my big tits."
You can’t disagree one bit, because it looks almost as good as it feels. There's no describing how euphoric it all is, the way your shaft vanishes into that perfect valley of pale flesh with Karina squeezing firmly, grinding her chest up and down to let the slippery friction of her soft breasts coax those dizzying groans out of your mouth. "You love fucking my tits, don't you, sweetie?"
"Yeah—so much, this is just, fuck,” you moan, nearly collapsing back against the sheets at the intense sensations that jolt through your body.
But Karina doesn't give you a chance to relax, quickening her pace, making your whole shaft throb with need as you continue to watch that massive pair of breasts move and bounce atop your shaft. She's loving this as much as you are, dragging out all these desperate moans that beg for more.
"Look how needy you sound—all because you get to fuck these huge tits," Karina teases you, grinding her upper body harder, massaging your achingly hard cock that looks devastatingly good sandwiched between her breasts like that. Your mouth stays open, but no words spill out, leaving room for more groans and she doesn't hesitate to keep that pleasure building and building with such intensity.
You know this can't last forever, but despite that, you're savoring this mind-numbing pleasure, doing what you can not to succumb and explode too soon. These tits are so soft, so warm, and you're throbbing so much from the friction alone, trying to delay the inevitable when your cock disappears and reappears between Karina's abundant cleavage.
"Can't take much more—"
Karina smiles, smug and devious all at the same time as she doesn't bother to ease up, your stiff shaft begging to release all over those perfect breasts. There's not another moment to delay this endless bliss driving you mad, your balls tight and throbbing for an orgasm you can't ignore. "Are you going to cum, sweetie? Ready to make a huge fucking mess all over my tits?"
You're practically delirious, finding it harder to breathe, the weakest nod all you can give. But Karina can tell how close you are by how your cock endlessly throbs and leaks. She shifts forward again, squeezing as tight as possible, bringing you closer and closer to a long overdue release. All this delicious friction is too much, bringing that pleasure to the very edge, and when you look down at her again and share the next glance, the encouraging look in her eyes is the last thing that sets you off.
"Be a good boy and cum for me. Cum all over these tits like you've always wanted to."
That's all it takes.
Your whole body tenses and stiffens as your climax swells up and hits you hard. With your cock nestled between her tits, you can see everything as the first blast of sticky, white cum fires up and explodes all over her pale skin, groaning with every spurt that splashes across her breasts and neck, one heavy, thick stream after another that leaves you shaking.
Karina doesn't cease for one instant, her tits snugly pressed together as you fill up her cleavage with hot cum, keeping this explosive orgasm going strong. Her full lips part with surprise as your load leaves such a mess, this heavy warmth clinging all over her exposed skin, coating her deep cleavage nicely with that sticky sheen. Her breasts make you cum harder than you think you ever have.
And even when it's all over, your load dripping down and oozing out between her huge tits, they stay where they are, squeezing it all out so she can ensure nothing gets wasted. Only when Karina is satisfied that you've been properly drained, your breath all heavy and weak, does she ease off, freeing your cock from her cleavage just to rub your sensitive tip against her hardened nipples to smear the warm mess you made.
"Such a huge, thick load for me. You needed that so badly, right? Didn’t it feel so good to get it all out over my perfect tits?"
Words fail you, only able to muster a weak tilt of your head as you lean back, spent completely, eyes focused on the glistening mess on Karina's chest, all this cum that she wears proudly to put on a little show to display your work.
"Did I make you cum too hard for you to talk, sweetie? You poor thing, how long has it been since someone got you off like this?"
"D-dunno," you say breathlessly, watching her hand continue to work up and down your drained shaft, still twitching desperately, needing every second of her attention. "Can't remember—far too long."
"Oh baby, that's no good—this beautiful cock should always be given attention." There's no denying how right she is about that, but before you can even muster a sound in response, Karina is gripping your cock a little tighter in her hand to keep it rigid. While you stare at those beautiful, cum-covered breasts, the lust has hardly faded. "Think you can handle going again? Or does your cock need a little more time to rest?"
There's only one possible answer. As sensitive and sore as your cock might be after shooting a load all over those fabulous tits, your hardness makes its intentions clear when it pulsates with need in her hand. You'd be disappointed if you stopped now.
"Need more. Need to be inside you, please," you respond, borderline pleading to finally feel what Karina's heavenly pussy feels like—how tight that immaculate grip must be.
“Thought so. But there's no need to beg, sweetheart—now why don't you lie on the bed so I can ride your cock?"
You’ve never heard a more beautiful set of words.
There's no second thought or hesitation. Karina is every bit willing to fulfill all your desires as you climb onto the bed and get comfy on the sheets. She crawls over on her hands and knees, but doesn't settle right into your lap. Instead, she presses her warm body atop your own, your naked flesh crashing together, those heavy breasts squashed tightly up against your bare chest as her lips find your own.
Her skin is so soft when you caress it, and the kisses come so abruptly, as does the hand that snakes down to lazily stroke your cock while she's busy letting her sweet taste linger on your lips.
"Tell me whenever you're ready, and I’ll take you inside me. This is just a nice little warmup," Karina promises in such a dulcet tone that you're tempted to respond immediately—but honestly, you don't know if you'll ever be ready for what she has in store.
So you lie there, surrendering to those lips, and let yourself revel in this delightful warmth she presses against you. It's the kind of lackadaisical make-out session that could never end, with no urgent need to rush. Her kisses are slow and steady, lips claiming yours with the same care and attention her fingers give your stiff shaft, jerking you off at a deliberate pace that makes you leak more and more for her.
"Rina—"
"Yes, baby? What do you need?" Karina responds as she pulls her face away, waiting for that answer, but doesn't dare stop pumping your needy, achingly hard shaft in her delicate fingers. "Need to be inside me, sweetie? Do you wanna know how good my pussy feels?"
"So badly, yeah," you answer with haste, nearly stuttering over the words as Karina pushes herself into a full mount to straddle your lap. She swings her thighs on either side of you, all spread out so you can get a teasing glimpse of her pussy while she gazes down at you with a sweet smile, your shaft aching against your abdomen.
"Tell me exactly what you need. Wanna hear it from you, sweetie. Don't get shy on me now."
"Want you to fuck me—wanna be deep inside that beautiful pussy, want you to ride me until you cum. Please." The words tumble right out, and it's all so embarrassing, but that's exactly what she wanted, isn't it?
Karina takes your acceptance on her offer with a beaming smile, reaching behind her to grab your aching cock in her palm, keeping a firm grip as she positions herself to guide you inside. The anticipation hits its peak when she lifts her wide hips up, bringing you right against the warm entrance of her slick pussy.
"Don't you worry. I'll ride you until we both cum."
Before your next breath, Karina lowers herself—a slow descent onto your cock that spreads her pussy lips apart, sinking into that soaked, wet heat inch after inch. You're coated with all this slickness, and that tight cunt squeezes so goddamn hard as she works you deeper, breath shaky when you hit the deepest parts of her.
"Fuck—it's so big," Karina curses, shifting in your lap for the briefest pause to adjust, bracing herself to take more. “You still with me, sweetie? You’ve gone quiet again.”
"How can I say anything, when your pussy feels this tight and incredible?"
Karina just laughs. The moment her hips lower again, she’s already in motion, gyrating on you, adjusting to the tight fit. There's no time to process it all, with that hot cunt sliding up and down your length. She doesn't tease, and her movements aren’t the least bit gradual, just the rapid rise and fall of her body.
“You fill me up so nicely, sweetheart,” Karina says, the praise sending you over the moon as she rests her hands on your chest for support.
It's every bit as mind blowing as you'd hoped it would be. Her wetness makes for an effortless movement of her hips, keeping a steady pace right off the bat that leaves you helpless beneath her. "Does that feel good? Do you like how my wet little pussy grips your big cock?"
You want to reply, but that pussy is so perfect, wet and warm all over your aching length. So all that leaves your lips is a strangled moan that has Karina lifting her hips up with more ferocity. You don't dare close your eyes for one instant as she rides you with that sinfully tight cunt, your shaft vanishing inside her slick entrance, over and over.
Nothing surpasses this—to see Karina so beautiful on top, those luscious tits bouncing whenever she drops back down to fill herself up with your hard cock, only to ride up again and leave you gasping.
"Fuck, love being inside you," you say, trying your best to speak, but it's a challenge when her cunt gets tighter after each wild plunge. Those heavy tits move in motion with her hips, and the sight of her alone has you groaning as she gives it her all, relentless on that cock. "Can't believe how good your pussy feels, fuck—"
"Yeah? You like how I ride you? How I take your thick cock all the way in with ease?" she says, drawing you right back in.
Karina doesn't stop. The pace gets faster with each drop down on your shaft. It's more than you can handle, watching that perfect body move so effortlessly as she takes you balls deep to make you groan beneath her, so utterly drenched and tight around you.
You can’t take your eyes off her jiggling chest, how hypnotic the bounces of those breasts get, and this is the perfect chance to take them in your hands once more, squeezing and groping the flesh while Karina fucks herself harder on your cock.
"There you go, play with those fucking tits—squeeze them, smack them, do whatever you'd like." Karina gives the offer, and your fingers are already moving to obey, grabbing a perfect handful of those supple tits that can't even be contained in your palms.
It's the distraction you desperately need, and the first slap to one of her pale breasts comes so quickly, the pliant skin rippling so nicely under the impact of your hand.
"Fuck, again—slap those fucking tits, baby, just like that," Karina demands, and who are you to deny her? There's not a thing to hold you back, taking turns to slap those wonderful breasts with enough force that they bounce against each strike, and they get so red under your fingers. Each slap gets harsher than the last, earning the best response from her—a tightening grip around your hard cock and loud whimpers whenever your palm makes contact with that supple flesh, turning her creamy skin a darker shade.
All this treatment leaves your cock dripping wet with Karina's slick juices, every part of you soaked as she keeps bouncing her gorgeous body atop your stiff length.
Her mouth stays open to voice her satisfaction with needy gasps and groans, every inch of her pussy stretched around your girth, keeping you deep. Those continuous smacks against her jiggling tits elicit the sweetest whines, reddened so beautifully from all this attention.
Karina loves it all. So needy for your touch, for this sweet punishment she takes with all the desperation as you smack her tits while she rides your cock. Her movements, they’re hard to handle, hips slamming hard against you as that plump ass bounces on your cock, picking up all this speed. Fucking you harder and harder, those heavy tits never cease bouncing wildly, smacking together when you give a respite to let the sting linger.
"Fucking love your cock inside me, sweetie—love it so fucking much," she tells you, hips rolling faster to keep the pace going strong, all this wetness and heat smothering you.
And now you're content to just lie back, taking in the view while Karina rides you, how she takes every inch of your throbbing shaft like it belongs inside her. She keeps a perfect rhythm that buries your cock inside her tight pussy with every impale, so wet and slick when she brings those hips back up to start the entire process again.
"Gonna fucking cum, baby. Gonna fucking cum all over this hard cock. Can you last long enough?" Karina asks with a coy little smirk, not faltering for even an instant as she keeps fucking you, tight pussy clinging so harshly around your length. And to be honest, you don't even know yourself—but Karina seems determined to drain your balls, even if it has you finishing way sooner than you’d like.
"D-dunno," you answer, knowing that with your hands on her body and those bouncing breasts so mesmerizing, there's only so long before you're pushing past the point of no return. "Probably not—"
Karina lets out a giggle in response that gets ripped right out when she takes you so unbelievably deep, all of your thick cock filling her up in the right way. She's so fucking tight, pale skin glistening with sweat in the light, adding to the view that could get you off from just the sight of her devilish body. "That's okay, sweetie. This cock feels too fucking good to stop."
The next few breaths are all a blur as this becomes a race to the finish. Your eyes stay glued to Karina, unable to look away as her hips move on autopilot. Amidst each movement, she moves quicker with every passing moment, that delicious wetness sliding along your hard length, bouncing her ass each time those thighs slam down on you. The bed squeaks and shakes beneath the constant, rhythmic impact, and you know this can only end one way—
"Shit, sweetheart, gonna fucking cum all over that dick, oh my god—" Karina falls over the edge first, and that cunt grips harder than ever like a vice, nearly unbearable, overflowing with arousal while she quivers above you. Her lips fall open as she looks down with half-lidded eyes, fingernails digging straight into your chest when it hits, every whimpering cry a lovely symphony for you to listen, to watch as it all happens, clinging for dear life while she climaxes so fucking hard all over your cock.
It's incredible, to see the way she loses herself completely to the pleasure, the mess that drowns your shaft while her tight pussy keeps spasming with every gush, and you have to grit your teeth to hold everything at bay.
“You wanna cum in me, sweetie?" she asks, through ragged breaths, a proud look shining through the bliss on her face, still riding that intense high.
A question like that only has one answer.
"Y-yeah, so badly—wanna fucking fill you up," you say, with all the confidence you've ever had. Pushing herself into overdrive, Karina fucks you as fast as her body allows, this mindless, relentless motion of those hips that drives you to the very edge, those big tits bouncing wildly until there's no chance you'll hold back—not a second longer.
And then you fucking spill. You seize her body and keep those hips pinned in place, buried to the hilt as your cock pulsates and throbs inside her warm cunt. Everything fires all at once, flooding right into Karina, thick spurt after thick spurt as she watches the pleasure overtake you. Her walls clench down to milk it straight out of your throbbing shaft as your moans pour out, making sure this huge mess goes where it belongs while you pump her full of cum.
It feels like it’ll never end—so unbelievably overwhelming, your balls emptying right inside Karina, the relief of getting to blow your load inside her for the first time that keeps getting better and better. All your hot seed unloads into her warm pussy, filling her to the brim, and her euphoric gaze help your intense climax linger by the second.
And when there’s nothing left in your balls, Karina still wears that blissed-out smile as she remains right on your shaft, the weight of her body coming to rest against yours. She weakly runs her slender fingers through your hair and kisses you tenderly, both sharing this moment of pure euphoria.
"Good boy..."
The weight of those words, they nearly make you blow again.
Karina plays with your hair as she takes those sloppy, lazy kisses, with your spent shaft still nestled deep inside her dripping cunt. You don't dare move, or do anything else. She seems quite content to just stay there motionless, your bodies pressed so closely together as your cock stays warm in her pussy. "Didn't think you had that much left in you, sweetie. Fucked it right out of you, huh?"
You're much too exhausted to respond, so instead you just lean in for more, letting those lips do what they do best, savoring the taste, the bliss, and all this sweat on your body and hers.
It's in that moment the realization hits that your relationship has shifted. No longer do you have to listen to Karina get railed through the walls—because it's you who's in her bed now, naked, covered in sweat, with your cum deep inside her, and her lips feel so good on your bare skin that you don’t ever want to leave this position.
"So—” she says, and her voice hardly sounds out of breath in comparison. “Do you wanna shower first or—do you wanna just go again?“
It's the most absurd thing to hear—as if she didn't just drain you, the evidence still deep between her legs.
“Both."
Not the answer Karina was expecting, but one that leaves her more than pleased as she presses another kiss to your cheek before finally climbing off you. A few careful steps later and she makes her way across the room, your cum slowly trickling down her thighs. Not stopping to clean any of it, she just lets your load drip out as she saunters into the bathroom and leaves the door wide open.
"Don't keep me waiting, sweetie."
✦ ✦
When you next get wrapped up in these sheets, it’s the exact same picture. But you’re the one on top, lips wandering all over Karina, fingers interlocked while she gets all giggly between kisses. The sweat is still there, and so are the handprints, but this time in a different location, imprinted all over her pale buttcheeks.
And now you’ve learned that the view from behind is almost as impeccable as it is from the front, to see Karina bent over, those ridiculous breasts bouncing freely like there's no controlling them while you ram into her wet pussy. And then you cum, hard—inside her, of course, because how could you not when you’ve got both of her jiggly tits in your palms, squeezing that magnificent pair as you unload right into her pussy.
With Karina, there’s no such thing as too much, or too often—not with that body. You make her cum on your face twice, and then she returns the favor moments after. This time, it’s all over her face, absolutely covering her, that fucking picture-perfect face that makes it seem like Karina isn’t real. But she is—and the way she smiles as your cum drips down her gorgeous features proves it.
No longer do you go to bed horny, but exhausted, with Karina lying beside you. Your own bed becomes neglected as your days and nights become spent in her room, listening to her fall asleep, head resting on those perfect breasts that put any other pillows to shame.
Your mornings start with Karina, greeting her with your head buried between her creamy thighs while the coffee gets brewed. But she doesn’t need you to look after her when her head spins, because she doesn’t get as hungover anymore, with no reason to get drunk off her ass when she has you to help take the edge off whenever she needs it.
It isn’t a relationship by title, but you certainly have all the benefits, the biggest one being your cum coating those big tits as often as it gets inside her pussy—
“Fuck me again,” she breathes in your ear one morning, seconds after you just finished all over her chest, your cock still painfully hard in between them. You’ve got your hands all over her messy tits when she asks it, fondling the soft flesh slick with cum, making shallow pumps between her deep cleavage, but her greedy little pussy calls to you.
But before you slip out—a loud knock on the door interrupts out of nowhere.
"Were you expecting someone?" you ask Karina, but her eyes tell you she's just as confused, face covered with sweat and her hair all disheveled from this hot and heavy session.
"No, I wasn't. Were you?" she asks in return, and neither of you pay it any attention. But the knocks continue, more urgent, more frequent. You don't think it's the neighbors coming to complain—that wouldn't happen this early, and you're mostly surrounded by other students and college grads anyway. "Ugh. Just ignore it. We can continue fucking—"
And that's what you both plan to do. It isn't until the knocks turn into full on bangs that Karina sighs and gives up. "God, fuck. This better be important."
You can see the anger and annoyance written all over her face.
Karina doesn't bother to throw a towel over herself before heading to the door in all her glory, naked and beautiful, still covered in your load, all the sticky, white mess dripping down her chest that she couldn't possibly clean in time before the door swings wide open—
Yizhuo.
It's fucking Yizhuo. Standing there at the doorstep. And there's Karina, all naked, and Yizhuo seems completely unfazed to see her without a shred of clothes.
"Hey," Yizhuo says casually, like this isn't the weirdest thing she could have seen standing in front of her. "Do you usually answer the door naked like this? Was there a fire?"
"When you won't fucking stop knocking and interrupting, yeah. What is it?"Karina sounds so angry that Yizhuo is almost taken back, and you just watch from a distance after slipping your boxers back on.
"Well, I haven't heard from you in a while. Came to check how you're doing, you haven't shown up at any of the parties lately. Wanted to make sure you're still alive. You could have sent a message if you're too fucking busy to talk—"
"What? I'm not—sorry, I've had a lot of assignments, and—you know," Karina hesitates, stuttering to explain her absence to Yizhuo. She looks at you as if to plead for some support. "I-I'm...fine. Totally fine."
"Assignments, yeah, that's what it looks like you were busy with. Explains why you're all naked and sweaty," Yizhuo says, almost mockingly. But Karina just bites her lip and frantically waves you over.
"What the fuck were you knocking so loudly this early for, then?"
"To make sure you weren't dead! That's it," Yizhuo retorts, and it's all too funny how this is turning out. Karina isn't even ashamed to have been caught—even more so when you stand at her side, half naked and covered with sweat, just like her.
"Oh. Hi there, you must be Karina's new boyfrie—"
"He's my roommate!"
Yizhuo raises a brow at that, as if to challenge the excuse. "You have a roommate?"
"He moved in last year," Karina clarifies, with an exasperated sigh. But that isn't what Yizhuo cares about right now, or what she even wants to know—
"And you fuck him?"
"Yizhuo!"
"That's not a no. He's cuter than the last guy I saw you with. Does he have a name?" Yizhuo asks, turning to you instead, and she's all grins as you finally step forward to meet her. "You got a name, or is that only reserved for Karina to scream?"
"Okay, time to leave, you've seen enough."
Karina's more embarrassed than offended. And Yizhuo seems all too amused, but you don't miss that lingering gaze when she gives you a quick scan up and down, admiring all of you—from your bare chest down to your boxers. "Well, I'll let you two get back to fucking—"
"Alright! Time for you to go—have a good day, and text me if you want to meet up, yeah? We'll get something to eat, or have a coffee."
And just like that, the door closes shut behind her, and you can't help but laugh as Karina sighs in defeat and collapses onto the wooden frame.
"So, that's Yizhuo—" you say, trying to keep it together, but she glares back at you as if it's all your fault that this happened.
"Don't," she mutters. "Not a word, sweetie."
"She's cute, too."
"What? Oh my god, seriously, do not—" Karina protests, but she just rolls her eyes and gives this faux look of annoyance as she pulls you closer. "Do you wanna fuck her too?"
"I didn't say that," you reply, and without even getting a chance to explain yourself Karina silences you with her lips. It's all tongue and teeth and it's so damn sloppy that it takes a while before either of you can get another word in.
"You can fuck her if you want. I don't mind. If you think she's cute, that is. Go and fuck her. You have my blessing."
You laugh, still finding all this absurd "I don't—Karina, that's not what I meant. It's fine. I like what I have."
"And what is that?" Karina ponders, peppering your face with kisses.
"A hot roommate with amazing tits that lets me cum inside her everyday,” you blurt out, and Karina just turns beet red from embarrassment.
"Yeah? Is that all I am to you?" she asks, almost cracking up at the end from her snorting laughter, her arms moving around your waist to tug you closer. "Maybe all you are to me is just a big cock for me to ride.”
"Well, as long as we've got it all figured out—"
And just like that, your lips crash again in unison.
“But if you want, I can give you Yizhuo’s number. Pretty sure she would suck you off in the middle of a park if you just asked her for the time."
"Jesus," you mutter, incredulous at the words slipping from her lips. "Didn't you say she was your best friend?"
"Oh, she is. But she's also the biggest slut I know." Karina has the widest grin you've ever seen.
You don't even have a word to say to that, but you don't need one when you let those lips overtake yours again. "Weren't we in the middle of something? We’ve still got an hour before I have to shower and get to class, so I better see you fucking me into next week."
And you can't possibly resist that.
#kpop smut#aespa smut#karina smut#reader insert#girl group smut#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#male reader#reader x karina
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