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alsofoundinpeas · 1 month ago

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Crossing the Line

Summary: Y/N never expected to fall for her roommate, Spencer, but when she becomes unexpectedly jealous of a girl flirting with him, she realizes she's in love with him. The problem is... how does she tell him that without ruining everything?

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Roommates/friends to lovers/two idiots in love trope. Jealous reader. Heavy making out. Dry humping (huge supporter of this I say bring it back!!). A small teensy bit of angst as reader struggles to accept her feelings. Insecure Spencer (sweet angel boy).

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader/afab!reader

Requested fic!! 🥳: I absolutely loved the fic you just wrote about Spencer and reader friends to lovers (and omg you write smut so well 😍) and I was wondering if you could write another one but maybe they’re roommates or something?

A/N: College!Spencer AU ahh!! Thank you so very much to the anon that requested this :’) <3 I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I know this isn't my usual, all-out smut buttt there will be a part two for these two, so stay tuned. :') As always, please tell me what you think! If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends. <3 Thank you and I love you all!! :)

Y/N never imagined she'd be rooming with a man, let alone one as… peculiar as Spencer Reid. Not in a bad way, of course—just, well, peculiar. Spencer was the last person Y/N expected to respond to her ad for a roommate, but she was glad he did.

At barely twenty-one, he already had two bachelor’s degrees and was deep into his third PhD. He’d graduated high school at twelve (an IQ of 187 had a way of doing that, she supposed), skipping the years most kids spent developing their social skills. As a result, he was incredibly awkward and nerdy, but Y/N found this more endearing than off-putting.

As a roommate, he was exceptional: he kept things tidy, wasn’t obnoxiously loud (even with their paper-thin walls), never had people over (which meant Y/N spent more time with him, as she didn’t have guests either), and even helped her study, despite her insistence she could handle it on her own (they both knew better). As a friend, he was even better—always listening to her ramble about anything and everything, joining her for their now-regular movie nights, and offering a shoulder to cry on when needed (and she was always there for him in return).

In the six months they'd lived together, they'd grown incredibly close. Y/N was even smugly certain that they had avoided the classic 'falling for your roommate' scenario—until Spencer came home ranting about a girl in his class.

“I mean, seriously! How hard is it to grab a paper without touching someone?” Spencer huffed, plopping down onto the couch next to her and reaching for the popcorn bowl that sat securely in her lap.

It took about three months of living together before Spencer felt comfortable enough to do things like share snacks during their movie nights or indulge in the occasional moment of physical affection.

Y/N never took it personally, understanding his aversion to germs (one of the first things he’d said when they met was that kissing was safer than shaking hands, and she’d almost jokingly taken him up on it). Every time Spencer felt comfortable enough to share food with her (like he was doing now) or lean into her on the heavier days, letting her hold him until the world felt a little lighter, her chest swelled with pride. It made her happy to know he trusted her enough to let his guard down like that.

Y/N raised an eyebrow as she listened to his rant. Apparently, a girl in the class he TA'd for had been getting on his nerves for weeks, but this was the first she’d heard about it. It didn’t surprise her—Spencer tended to bottle things up until they reached a breaking point, and then he'd unload it all at once, just like he was doing now.

"She’s always staring at me, too. Every time I glance up, there she is—staring and chewing on the end of her pen. It gives me the creeps," Spencer grumbled, a shiver running down his spine as he recalled it.

"Wait wait wait," Y/N stopped his rant with furrowed brows. "What did you say this girl's name was?"

"Her name’s Wren Davidson. You might know her—or at least know of her. I'm pretty sure she's in a few of the same classes as you," Spencer said, pausing to snack on some popcorn, though by now, their movie was all but forgotten as the starting menu looped on the screen. "She’s about 5'6", has dark brown hair with some highlights, and green eyes."

Y/N pressed her tongue to her cheek, thinking for a moment. The name sounded strangely familiar…

"Oh! I know who you mean—she's in my 8:00 AM lecture with Professor James on Tuesdays and Thursdays," Y/N said, snapping her fingers as she remembered. She popped a piece of popcorn into her mouth, then tilted her head. "So, just to recap—she's asking you questions instead of the professor, touching you whenever you hand out papers, staring at you… and what else?"

Spencer adjusted his glasses and leaned forward, clearly frustrated.

"She’s been bringing me coffee lately, even though I’ve told her a million times I don’t want it because you always make it just the way I like before I leave and I don't need more. And when she doesn’t bring coffee, it’s some kind of baked good. I don’t get it! If she’s looking for favoritism, why not try to suck up to the professor? I’m just the TA."

A sudden tightness gripped Y/N’s chest as she processed his words. It was clear now—Wren was flirting with him. But why did that thought send an unexpected wave of discomfort through her? Jealousy, maybe? No, that didn’t make sense... Why would she be jealous?

“She’s not looking for favoritism, Spence. She’s looking for a way to get into your pants,” Y/N snickered, ignoring yet another wave of unease that crashed into her at the mental image of Spencer actually having sex with Wren. Anyone would be uncomfortable thinking about their roommate having sex… right? That was a perfectly normal reaction.

Spencer suddenly choked on the popcorn he’d just popped into his mouth, coughing violently and startling Y/N. Without thinking, she leaned over, gently patting his back as concern flooded her expression. When the coughing finally subsided into a weak wheeze, she reached for his glass of water on the coffee table and handed it to him with a worried glance.

"Jesus, Spencer! Are you okay?"

"Why would you say that?"

Spencer's voice was unnervingly high, his face flushed from both the coughing fit and his growing embarrassment. He took a slow sip of water, trying to steady his racing heart. Setting the glass down with trembling hands, he adjusted his crooked glasses, his gaze avoiding hers. "For the record," he muttered, his voice tinged with insecurity, "I highly doubt she’s trying to… get in my pants."

Y/N's expression softened from concern to sympathy as her hand moved to rub his knee in comfort.

She remembered the first (and only) time she’d gotten Spencer to drink with her, how, in his tipsy state, he’d opened up about his painful past. In a rare moment of vulnerability, he’d shared how brutally he’d been bullied as a child prodigy, and how those experiences had led him to avoid romantic relationships for fear of humiliation and rejection. That night marked the turning point in their relationship, transforming them from roommates who got along to actual friends—a change she would forever be grateful for.

"You’re too hard on yourself," Y/N said gently. "Trust me on this one. As a woman, I can tell you with absolute certainty—she's flirting with you." She added, her tone matter-of-fact.

Spencer gave her a doubtful look, but after a moment, his shoulders slumped in reluctant acceptance as he began to entertain the possibility. "We’ll see," he muttered, grabbing the remote and finally starting their movie night.

It turned out Y/N had been right.

Three weeks had passed without a word from Spencer about it, and Y/N figured Wren had gotten the message and moved on. But then she began to notice Wren walking into class with a little extra bounce in her step, a shy, almost giddy smile lighting up her face as she sat down. Y/N shrugged it off… until she noticed Spencer doing the exact same thing.

Spencer began coming home later and later after class, a goofy grin on his face as he wandered through the apartment or headed to his room. Y/N didn’t ask any questions, knowing he’d share whatever was making him so happy when he was ready—though she had a pretty strong hunch about who it was. By the fourth week, he finally felt comfortable enough to confide in her.

"You won’t believe this, but I finally just asked Wren straight up if she was flirting with me… and she said yes!" Spencer said, his excitement clear as he leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Y/N cook. "We’ve been spending time together after class, and, uh… I asked her out on a date for this Friday!"

Y/N froze mid-stir, caught off guard by the sudden pang of sadness that hit her. Why did she feel this way? She should be happy for him—he was her closest friend, after all. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to keep stirring as she pushed the unsettling thoughts aside for the moment.

"That’s great, Spence!" Y/N said, though her voice came out a bit tighter than usual. "So… what do you have planned for your date?"

Spencer began to ramble excitedly about what he had planned for Friday, his hands moving animatedly as he spoke. All it did was seem to make the feeling of dread and hurt creeping up on her worse, though she couldn't for the life of her understand why Spencer talking about his date had her so bothered. Maybe it was because she hadn't been on a date in over a year, having avoided the dating scene after her last breakup. That had to be it.

Y/N nodded absentmindedly, her mind fixated on the uneasy feeling growing inside her rather than his words. It had been so long since she’d felt anything like this, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't make sense of why it was happening.

She wasn’t blind. She knew Spencer was ridiculously attractive (even if his wardrobe seemed to be straight out of an elderly man’s fashion catalog). And he was kind, thoughtful, and attentive—anyone would be lucky to date him. Yet, despite all that, she’d always seen him as nothing more than a friend. Or at least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

Fortunately, the timer went off, cutting Spencer off mid-sentence. He quickly shifted gears, helping her dish out their food. They moved to the living room, ready to enjoy their meal and unwind with TV, as they always did.

Spencer couldn’t help but notice that Y/N was quieter than usual. She didn’t join in with her usual banter during the show, instead taking absent-minded bites, taking bites between distant, unfocused stares at the screen. His brow furrowed as he put his fork down, observing her slowly push her food around without really eating.

"Y/N… are you alright?" Spencer asked, lowering the volume on the TV. "You’ve barely touched your food."

"Hm?" Y/N looked up, offering a faint smile as she shrugged. "Yeah… I’m fine, Spence. Just a little tired, I guess."

He didn’t fully buy it, but he decided not to push further. "How about a nap in my lap while I grade papers, then? After dinner, of course. I don’t want your head in my food," Spencer joked, pleased with himself. His lame humor had her rolling her eyes and grinning, stifling a laugh.

That had become normal for them: napping or cuddling, quick pecks on the cheek or top of the head when one of them left, cooking and eating together… the list went on. But the more Y/N thought about it, the more she realized it didn’t exactly align with typical roommate behavior. Or maybe it did, and she was just overanalyzing, letting the strange feeling she couldn’t shake make her paranoid.

"That sounds perfect," Y/N agreed, silently hoping the nap would help clear her mind.

They finished dinner, chatting between bites about their day. Spencer, ever the gentleman, told her to stay on the couch while he cleared their plates and rinsed them. After grabbing the stack of papers he needed to grade for Professor Hartman from his room, he returned, settling back onto the couch with a grin as he patted his lap.

Y/N eased into his lap, stretching her legs out across the couch as she nestled her head into the crook of his neck with a contented sigh. Spencer ran a hand down her back as she settled in, giving her hip a gentle pat before picking up the first paper to grade.

It didn't take long for Y/N to drift off in his arms, her breath warm against his skin as he graded papers. The room was quiet except for the soft rhythm of her breathing, the rustling of the papers as he flipped through them, and the occasional hum of a car passing outside. Spencer paused his grading, his gaze drifting down to Y/N as she slept peacefully in his arms. A fond expression softened his features as he watched her, her calmness soothing him. Slowly, he reached up and caressed her cheek with his knuckles, then resumed his work, his gaze lingering for just a moment longer.

Spencer’s eyelids drooped as he made his way through the last few papers, small yawns escaping him between each one. When he finished, he quietly set the stack on the coffee table, taking care not to disturb Y/N. With a gentle shift, he settled back into the cushions, bringing one hand to cradle her head as he adjusted their position on the couch. He carefully maneuvered so he could stretch out before pulling her closer, tucking her into his side.

It was late enough that Spencer didn’t see the need to wake her; he knew if he did, she’d be up for hours. Reaching behind him, he turned off the lamp, letting the room fall into darkness. The soft rhythm of her breathing eased him, and soon, he drifted off, her warmth grounding him. In minutes, they were both asleep, entwined in the quiet comfort of each other’s arms.

As the week passed, Y/N found it increasingly difficult to cope with the thought of Spencer going on his date with Wren. Every time he brought it up, she quickly steered the conversation elsewhere or found an excuse to slip away, guilt gnawing at her with every evasive move. She hated herself for it—he was genuinely excited, and she didn’t want to ruin that. But every mention of the date made her stomach twist, and she couldn’t bring herself to face it without feeling like she was being torn apart.

Y/N finally understood why the idea of him going on a date was so devastating to her nervous system.

Late Tuesday night, as Y/N lay awake in bed, a sudden, jarring realization hit her: she had fallen in love with Spencer. Somewhere over the past seven months, amid shared laughs, quiet moments, and unexpected tenderness, she had fallen hopelessly for the brilliant, quirky man she had sworn she'd never fall for.

And now, because she was a spineless coward who was too afraid to risk their friendship by speaking up, she found herself helping Spencer get ready for his date.

"Spencer, seriously—hold still! I'm almost done," Y/N grumbled, her tongue poking from the corner of her mouth as she fixed his hair.

Spencer let out an exasperated sigh but stopped shifting, almost going cross-eyed as he tried to focus on her. She was so close now that he could almost taste the minty freshness of her gum, her breath brushing his face making him more flustered than he expected. He nervously twiddled his fingers in his lap, his curiosity piqued as he waited to see how she had tamed his unruly strands.

"There you go. What do you think?" Y/N grinned proudly, stepping back to give him space as he stood from where he was sitting on the toilet lid, turning to face the bathroom mirror.

Spencer turned his head from side to side, eyes lingering on his reflection. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he examined himself. For the first time, he felt it—he felt good. Like he could finally see what Y/N saw when she insisted he was handsome. Instead of his typical gelled, slicked-down look, she'd arranged his hair to accentuate his face, giving his features a more defined, natural appeal.

"I... Y/N, I love it. Thank you," Spencer breathed earnestly, turning to pull her into a warm hug.

Y/N smiled gently, wrapping her arms around him. The newfound confidence in his eyes was enough to ease the ache in her chest about his date. At least, she thought, he was finally seeing himself the way she always had—worthy and deserving of feeling this good.

“Of course, Spence. Anything for you,” she murmured, the words feeling heavier than she intended. She meant it, though. She would do anything for him—even if it meant shattering her own heart along the way.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Y/N released a long, shaky breath, pressing her forehead against the cool wood for a moment before slowly making her way to Spencer's room. He had told her not to wait up, mentioning he planned on going to Wren’s afterward. So, she curled up in his blanket, clutching his pillow to her chest, trying to let the comfort of his familiar scent quiet her restless mind.

Less than five minutes passed before the tears began to fall, each one soaking into the fabric of his pillow as a sob broke free from her chest. She felt pathetic. There she was, crumpled in his bed while he was out on a date, all because she couldn’t find the courage to tell him how she felt—too afraid to admit the truth, convinced that he could never feel the same way about her.

The hours slipped by in a blur, her tears long gone as exhaustion weighed heavily on her. Too weary to move to her own bed, she simply tossed her pants to his floor, closed her eyes, and let sleep take over in the comfort of his sheets. She'd remake his bed in the morning before he got home, hoping he'd never know about the quiet, tearful night she'd spent there.

Spencer ran a hand through his hair, his fingers grazing his scalp as he quietly unlocked the door and stepped into the dark apartment. The date had gone fine, nothing awful… but there was a difference between nice and right. Wren was nice, but she wasn’t the one his heart had been quietly waiting for. That person was the other half of this apartment, likely fast asleep in her room, just as he’d told her to be—and he couldn’t shake the feeling she should’ve been the one he’d been out with tonight.

Spencer hung his jacket on the coat rack and slipped off his shoes, setting them neatly by the door. He headed toward his room, eager to leave the awkwardness of the evening behind and looking forward to starting the next day with the one person who truly made his world feel right. Though Y/N wasn’t his, there was a quiet comfort in knowing she was always the first face he’d see each morning. Maybe one day, he'd find the courage to tell her how he felt. But for now, he was content cherishing their friendship.

He couldn't shake the slight guilt he felt for Wren, a cringe running through him as he replayed the moment she'd tried to kiss him when he dropped her off. When she leaned in, he'd jerked back instinctively, his eyes wide in shock, leaving her face flushed with embarrassment. He’d apologized immediately, of course, and she’d been kind enough to accept it before hurriedly retreating into her house. Still, he couldn't help but feel the discomfort linger, knowing their interactions in class would be uncomfortable from here on out.

Spencer pushed open his door, too exhausted to bother with the light as he shrugged off his clothes, blindly stumbling toward the bed. He let out a sigh of relief as he collapsed onto the mattress—only to freeze when something beneath him let out a loud, panicked yelp. He scrambled back in shock, crashing to the floor in a clumsy heap, cursing loudly.

"What the fuck?" Spencer gasped, reaching for his lamp from the ground as he quickly sat up.

Y/N blinked at him in startled surprise, her brow furrowed and mouth slightly agape as she took in the sight of him sprawled on the floor. Spencer felt a wave of relief wash over him, his body sagging as he realized she wasn’t some weird, perverted burglar waiting for him. Still, as the shock wore off, confusion crept in. Why was she in his bed?

“Are you alright?” Y/N squeaked, instinctively reaching down to help Spencer back onto the bed. Her mind was still foggy with sleep, and her heart was racing from the jarring wake-up call.

Spencer quickly slid under the covers, suddenly self-conscious of his state of undress, his face flushing as he glanced at her. He cleared his throat and gave a small nod. "I'm good, just… uh, why are you in my bed?"

Y/N hesitated, her teeth gently catching her lower lip as she searched for an excuse that wouldn't sound ridiculous. But nothing came to mind. With a deep breath, she finally decided to just tell him the truth.

"I… I wasn't handling your date with Wren very well," Y/N confessed, her voice low. "I came in here hoping to get some peace because being near you usually makes me feel better. But instead, I just ended up crying myself to sleep in your bed. I'm really sorry," she added, her brows knitting together as she looked at him. "Wait—why are you here? I thought you were going to stay at Wren's."

Spencer’s expression softened as he took in her words. “I chose to come home,” he said quietly. “Wren’s nice, but tonight made me realize there’s really only one person I want across from me, or kissing me, or… anything else.” He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “But what do you mean you weren’t handling my date well? Why did you cry yourself to sleep, sweetheart?”

Y/N’s heart clenched at his words, a wave of worry washing over her as her fatigue made it harder to hold back what she was feeling. Who could he possibly be talking about? She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself before she finally spoke.

“I’ve been trying to figure this out for a while,” she began, her voice soft but steady. “And, Spence… I think I’m in love with you. I’ve probably been in love with you for a long time, but I was too afraid to admit it to myself. Every time I thought about you with her, I felt so… sick. So jealous. Because I wanted to be the one you were with. I wanted to be the one you fell in love with.”

The words hung in the air between them, raw and unguarded. It was out in the open now. There was nothing left to hide.

To her surprise, Spencer let out a soft chuckle. Before she had a chance to take offense, he reached for her hands, holding them gently as he spoke.

"Y/N… you're already the one I've fallen in love with," Spencer confessed, his voice steady as his eyes held hers. "You're the reason I came back. As I sat across from her, it hit me—there’s no one else in this world that I’d rather be with than you."

Y/N blinked hard, ensuring that she wasn’t asleep and that this wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t. He was still there when she opened her eyes, sitting cross legged and vulnerable (and enticingly bare under the covers) before her as he waited for her to respond. He tilted his head at that, laughing softly as his face scrunched in confusion.

“What are you doing, silly girl? I confess my love to you and your response is to blink at me like an owl?” Spencer teased, his nose twitching as he grinned.

Y/N huffed out a laugh of her own, gently squeezing his hands as she shook her head. “I’m sorry! I just— I wanted to make sure this was real,” she murmured, her eyes falling to their hands in her lap.

“Would… would a kiss help to solidify that it’s real?” Spencer offered, a shy smile on his face.

Y/N’s eyes widened at that, baffled but pleased with his newfound confidence. Maybe she should do his hair more often. Without a word, she nodded eagerly, leaning forward to gently capture his lips with her own.

The press of his lips against hers sent her spinning, as though reality itself was slipping away and all that remained was the grounding warmth of his hands cradling her face. Spencer’s kiss was all-encompassing—like she was the very breath he needed to live. She craved more, desperate to fan the flames between them until the heat ignited, consuming them both from within.

Spencer’s lips never left hers as he gently tilted his head, deepening the kiss with a slow, deliberate movement. He carefully lowered her to the bed, his hands supporting her as he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers. "Feel real enough for you, yet?" he whispered, his breath warm against her skin, the faintest brush of his lips lingering as if he couldn’t bear to pull away for even a second.

Y/N rolled her eyes at his teasing, lacing her fingers into his hair to tug gently in retaliation. The whine he let out sent a sharp pang of desire up her spine, and she tugged harder just to hear it again.

“Mm, not yet. I think you’ll have to do it again to really convince me.”

The words barely filled the space between them before his lips were back on hers. She let out a soft exhale as his hips settled against hers, unable to help the giggles that slipped free when she felt his hard cock pressing against her through his boxers. She wasn’t laughing at him, not at all. She was just lost in pure, blissful joy, reveling in the realization that he was finally hers.

“Stop giggling and kiss me back,” Spencer muttered, his voice laced with playful frustration, but her laughter was contagious, and soon he was laughing too. Their lips remained pressed together, but it was more of a chaotic, shared moment than an actual kiss. As they pulled away, both of them breathless, the last of his nerves melted away, and they simply stared at each other, the connection now clearer than ever.

Spencer had imagined plenty of times what it would look like to have her splayed underneath him in his bed (thoughts that were shamefully fueled by her soft sounds of pleasure through their shared wall whenever she thought he was asleep). Nothing his imagination had dreamed up could ever compare to the sight before him. She looked utterly captivating, her cheeks flushed, lips slightly swollen from their kisses, eyes looking up at him with that familiar warmth. He always thought she was beautiful, without a doubt. But in this moment? She was a living, breathing work of art. A stunning, half-dressed masterpiece who was wrapping her legs around his waist with a shit-eating grin and—

“Oh—!”

Spencer squeaked as Y/N arched her hips into his again, grinding against him in a way that provided delicious friction against his aching cock. Spencer had never been more turned on than he was in this moment, the need thrumming through his veins driving him to rock gently against her in return.

Y/N’s grin faltered as her breath hitched, her brows pinching together as he began to thrust shakily against her through their underwear. Her mouth dropped open into a silent gasp as the head of his arousal brushed against her clit through the thin fabric, a helpless whine leaving her lips shortly after as he repeated the movement.

They were both too tired and too in love to rush their first time together (and Spencer’s first time in general), so they settled for this: the steady push and pull of their hips grinding together as their lips began to devour each other’s once more. The room quickly filled with their muffled noises of pleasure; soft moans and whimpers between passionate kisses and the rustling of his covers as they moved against each other creating an explicit symphony.

Spencer’s movements became more fervent as Y/N licked into his mouth, her nails dragging across his shoulder blades encouraging him to keep going. His body trembled as he felt her arousal dampening the front of his boxers, a guttural moan wrenching its way from his throat. She was soaked. All because of him.

Y/N’s head tipped back against his pillows, her eyes squeezed shut as she felt the pleasure coiling tightly in her lower stomach. His lips immediately moved to the crook of her neck, nipping and sucking gently at the skin there between whimpers of her name. It felt erotic, the both of them so turned on despite their exhaustion that they couldn’t help their movements, desperate to experience the other falling apart.

She’d make it up to him later, when she could actually take her time with him and make his first time something special, something memorable. But for now, she was perfectly content with this.

“Spence I’m—“ Y/N gasped, tangling her fingers into his hair as she began to writhe underneath him. “I’m about to—“

Her orgasm washed over her like a cold bucket of water, yanking the air from her lungs and making her body tense up as she cried out his name and clung to him. Spencer groaned alongside her, pulling his head from the crook of her neck so that he could watch her in awe. The sight alone almost had him cumming, his movements growing frantic as he chased his pleasure.

Her soft whines urged him closer and closer to the finish line as he rutted against her, and all he could manage was a soft shout of her name before his climax took hold of him, his cock throbbing against her as he spilled into his boxers. He collapsed against her, thrusting weakly with small whimpers to ride out both of their highs before his hips finally stilled.

Their chests heaved as they laid together, catching their breath. Y/N’s hands raked through Spencer’s hair, fighting to stay awake long enough so that they could clean up. When Spencer could finally move, he lifted up onto his forearms, pressing small, gentle kisses to her lips with murmured thank you’s before he climbed out of his bed to grab a towel from the bathroom. Once they were cleaned and stripped out of their cum-soaked clothes (to which Y/N and Spencer both giggled excessively about as they wriggled out of them), Spencer reached over to turn off his lamp.

Drained but happy, they collapsed into each other’s embrace, winding together in Spencer’s bed and surrendering to the pull of sleep. Just before sleep claimed him, Spencer pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to Y/N’s forehead, whispering, "I love you, my sweet girl."

A soft smile tugged at his lips when he heard her whisper back, "I love you too, my sweet boy."

REMINDER: I do NOT give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.

#Spencer Reid smut #Spencer Reid fanfic #Spencer Reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut #Spencer Reid x you #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid x fem!reader #Spencer Reid x y/n #two idiots in love #roommates to lovers #Spencer Reid x self insert

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 3 months ago

Text

60 Seconds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.1k

Warnings: heavy angst, rape (explicit), being bound and gagged and blindfolded, kidnapping, heavy trauma

Request by anon: Would you write something with Spencer x reader (s7 ish doesn't really matter) where you're taken or kidnapped and when they find you, you keep yelling like 'no, no, don't hurt me' and shit like that cuz you don't realize it's them, and Spencer rushes to you and holds you but you're like trashing and hitting his chest until you break down in sobs pls that would be the cutest help. Also love me some team reactions to it happening skskdks OKAY BYE

Summary: One minute can change everything. A lot can happen in sixty seconds, and your entire world is turned upside down when you’re taken off the street in broad daylight. Spencer and the team fight to save you while you’re fighting to stay alive.

Square Filled: laid on a stretcher for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Everything can change in one minute.

That’s sixty seconds.

You pass by the bank you and Spencer have a joint account with. Three seconds. You see a woman and her child playing with bubbles across the street at the park. One second. You wait for the crosswalk light to turn green. Twenty seconds. You cross the street with a group of people. Ten seconds. You stop at a flower stand and buy two roses, one for Spencer and one for you. Twenty seconds. You turn the corner onto a desolate part of the sidewalk. Two seconds.

A van pulls up next to you and two men reach out and grab you. Six seconds.

One minute.

You’ve heard of stories where people are taken in plain sight and in daylight, but you never think it’ll happen to you. You’ve heard stories of victims being tortured, raped, and abused, but you never think it’ll happen to you. You’ve heard stories about victims needing a lifetime of therapy knowing it won’t fix them, but you never think it’ll happen to you.

Until it does.

Spencer moves about the office with you on his mind, excited to go on a lunch date with you. You’re not part of the BAU but you try to visit as much as you can. You have your own art business that you sell out of your apartment. You like to paint, make vases, and occasionally sew. Business has been booming for the last year so you’re not worried about not finding a “real” job any time soon.

Lunch time comes but you don’t show up, and Spencer thinks you might have gotten lost in a project. That tends to happen a lot, so he calls you to see if you’re going to be free any time soon. You don’t answer.

“Reid, JJ got something for us.”

Spencer puts his phone away and will call you later when he has a minute. Just like that, you’re pushed to the back of his mind. He has victims to save and bad guys to put away.

He just doesn’t realize that the victim this time is you.

The two men who took you were only the delivery boys. The men who have you are much worse. Spencer must be on a case if he hasn’t tried to contact you. Maybe he has. You’re not sure. You’re also not sure how many hours have passed or if it’s the next day. Time stops when all you can think about is pain.

They put a blindfold on you as soon as they stole you from the street so you’re not sure where you are in the world or what the room even looks like. All you know is that it stinks in here like dirt, sweat, and blood.

You’re hanging from the middle of the room by your wrists, your toes barely touching the ground. You’ve been suspended like this for so long that you’ve lost all feeling in your hands due to the rope biting into your wrists and cutting off circulation. If you’re lucky, they’ll fall off.

You’re stripped bare to just your panties. Those men love easy access where they can get it. Cuts adorn your once smooth skin and dried blood cake down your body. If you don’t give them what they want, they get violent. You’re surprised you’re not dead right now. They’ve beaten, raped, and abused your body multiple times in a single day.

You just hope that wherever you are, Spencer comes soon. You’re not sure how much of this you can take.

Spencer comes home after a grueling seven days in the field. All he wants to do is take a hot shower and snuggle in bed with you.

“Y/N? You home?” Spencer turns on the light but you’re not there to greet him like you normally are. “Y/N?”

He walks to the bedroom thinking you’re sleeping but frowns when he sees the bed is perfectly made as if no one has used it in a while. He checks the guest room but you’re not in there either. He takes out his phone and calls you but it goes straight to voicemail. He checks the Life 360 app only to see your phone is located in some ditch on the side of the road.

Now he starts to panic.

“Can’t get enough of this team? You just saw us for a week straight,” JJ jokes when she answers his call.

“Is Y/N with you?”

“No.”

“Have you seen her or talked to her all week?”

“No. What’s going on?”

“I think she’s missing,” he panics.

“Who, calm down, Spencer. Why do you think she’s missing?”

“She’s not home, she hasn’t been answering all week, her phone goes straight to voicemail, and I can see her location is in a ditch somewhere off the side of the road. You don’t think…”

“I don’t think what?”

“Do you think she was taken by the Daylight Killer?”

The Daylight Killer has been on the BAU’s radar for quite some time now. They take innocent women off the street in broad daylight only to return them back to their families after weeks. During those weeks, these women endure harsh psychological and physical torture. The BAU hasn’t been able to capture this man because they don’t think he’s working alone. If anything, it’s an organization that keeps him hidden from the authorities.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions, Spence.”

“JJ, she always answers her phone. Her biggest fear is me not picking up mine because of our job.”

“I’ll get the team together.”

Spencer immediately heads back to work and meets the team in the briefing room. They already have the victims of the Daylight Killer posted on the bulletin boards despite not having concrete evidence that you’ve been taken by him.

“What do we know?”

“I have already looked at the security cameras around your apartment, this building, and everything in between.” Penelope puts pictures of you on the screen for all to see. “She was last seen walking down Main Street when she stopped at a flower vendor on the corner of Main Street and Dobson Road. She turns the corner and continues to walk toward the BAU.” Penelope puts up three more pictures, one of you walking, another with a car parked right next to you, and the other with you gone. “This car stops next to her and she isn’t seen on any other cameras.”

“Did you get a plate?” Derek asks.

“Only a partial, but the system hasn’t come up with anything yet. You’ll be the first to know.”

“What if it is him? Do you know what he does to his victims?” Spencer asks with tears in his eyes.

“We need to speak to the survivors and see if they can remember their time with him.”

“You want to put them through that pain again?” Emily asks.

“What other choice do we have?” Rossi asks.

It’s safe to say that the victims of the Daylight Killer were less than thrilled to have to relive their experiences. Some of them are still in the hospital recovering from their injuries while others are locked away in their houses too afraid to go outside. There are only two girls who are brave enough to come forward. Confident that if they help the BAU, the men will get caught.

“If you need to stop at any time, please let us know,” JJ says gently.

“Okay,” Stacy, one of the victims, whispers.

“Close your eyes and focus on the sound of my voice.” Stacy does, and she wrings her fingers together nervously. “When you were taken, do you remember what you could feel?”

“You mean besides their hands on me?”

“I can only imagine this is hard for you but don’t focus on them.” Stacy nods and tries to relax. “Focus on the car ride. Was it bumpy? Smooth?”

“Smooth but then it became bumpy like they were driving on rocks or a dirt road.”

“How long were you on that road for?”

“It seemed like hours but probably ten minutes.”

“Then what?”

“They parked and took me out of the car. I was still blindfolded.”

“What was underneath your feet? Rocks? Dirt? Concrete?”

“Sticks. Dirt.”

“So, you were in the woods. What did you smell?”

“Dirt. Nature. It was musty.”

“What did you hear?”

“Insects. However, they stopped once we started walking.”

Spencer leaves the room after hearing enough from Stacy. So, they are keeping their victims in the woods. What woods, is the question.

The best part about you is Spencer. He brings out the best in you and pushes you to do your best in everything you do, especially with your art business. He never goes a day without telling you he loves you, and he shows it with the little things he does. He leaves out little notes for you on the kitchen counter before work, he buys you cookies and other sweets before he comes home, and he gets you flowers every single week.

Even in bed, he’s super loving. Sure, he’s been rough with you a few times but your favorite is how gentle he can be. He can spend hours in bed just worshiping you before giving you his sock. He fits so well inside of you like he was made for you. Even now, you can picture him bending you over and sliding his cock into your pussy. He touches your skin as if he’s mapping every inch of your body. He rarely leaves behind any marks because it reminds him that he can hurt you. He’s seen too much in the field to leave marks on you.

You’re pulled from your dream with Spencer when one of the men slaps your ass hard. His dick feels nothing like Spencer’s. He doesn’t care if he stretches you too much or if he doesn’t fit. He’s still slamming into you from behind and chasing his release. Your entire body aches from the pain but you refuse to give him and the other men the one thing they crave.

You refuse to cry.

You slip back into your dream and replace the man raping you with Spencer who loves you.

“According to the camera’s timestamp, she’s been missing for a week. Do you know what these men do to these women? What are they doing to her right now?” Spencer panics.

“I know it’s hard but you can’t think like that. We’re doing everything we can to try and find her. Right now, we have two women who remember being in the woods which means this unsub or unsubs need privacy. They can’t risk anyone finding them so they have to be isolated. That narrows down a lot of places,” Hotch says.

“They can’t be far either because Virginia PD is always on the scene whenever they release these women. They have to have a place close enough to where they can grab someone and release another in the span of hours.”

“Garcia, anything?”

Penelope pulls up a map of the area and circles the places where it’s likely the unsubs are located. All are in densely forested areas with nothing around them for miles.

“Based on the survivors’ accounts of being in the woods and the fact that they both said they weren't in the car for long once they got onto the dirt road, I estimate that the unsubs are located in one of five places. Every single victim has been released at a gas station before walking into town where there is reception.”

“That’s too many to go to. They could see us coming and leave. How are we going to narrow down this list?”

JJ comes marching into the room with a look of determination and worry on her face.

“We got another woman missing. Melissa Summers was out jogging when she was taken. This time, there were witnesses. They witnessed a ‘dirty white van’ and ‘two men grabbing Melissa off the streets’. They saw a partial plate which matches the one who took Y/N.”

Spencer goes rigid at the news because there are two reasons why they took someone early. They normally keep their victims for two or three weeks before releasing them and grabbing someone new. You’ve been gone for just over a week. Either they changed their minds and let you go early or you’re dead.

Spencer doesn’t have to say anything for everyone to know what he’s thinking.

“Reid, don’t go there,” Derek warns.

“Too late.”

Spencer leaves the room just before he bursts into tears. He can handle being by your side while you heal from their abuse but he can’t handle the thought of you being dead.

You wish that was the case. You wish they had killed you. After a week and a half of abusing your body for their pleasure, they leave you to rot on a dirty mattress with your hands tied behind you, duct tape over your mouth, and a blindfold over your eyes. The door opens but you don’t have enough energy to react. You’ve been saving your energy for when it matters the most.

“What should we do with her?”

They must have another girl if they’re already talking about disposing of you.

“We should just kill her, boss,” another man says. “She doesn’t make it fun. She doesn’t cry or beg like the others.”

“We should just leave her here and move on. She hasn’t seen our faces. She doesn’t look like she’ll talk.”

“Enough. Both of you. I’ll decide what to do with her when I’m done with her.”

The door closes and you’re back to lying in the darkness.

“Okay, so according to her parents, Melissa goes on a run on the same route every night. It’s on Mason Trail located next to a gas station. It’s one of the ones Penelope circled,” JJ says.

“We should go check it out,” Spencer suggests. “What harm will it do? The best case is we find the men responsible. Worst case is she’s not there and we try again. We have to do something.”

“I’m with Reid on this one,” Derek says.

“If we’re wrong and she’s not there, it could ruin everything,” Rossi says.

“You’re both right,” Hotch says. “Let’s go.”

The team, as quietly as they can, make their way to the house deep in the woods located near Mason Trail. It’s not quite night but Hotch keeps the headlights off to prevent anyone from seeing the sleek black cars. Virginia PD is right behind them because, despite the concern about this not being the location, Spencer has a feeling it is.

They park several hundred yards away from the house and finish the rest of the way on foot. If this is the house and someone is home, they won’t take kindly to Derek announcing that the FBI is at their door. Instead, he kicks down the door and just barges in.

There are four men sitting around the table playing poker who all jump up from shock. They reach for their guns but the FBI is quicker. Derek, Rossi, Hotch, and Emily take down the four men while the police search the house to clear the other rooms.

“Where is she?” Spencer asks once they are all in handcuffs.

“Dead.”

“There’s a door to the basement,” one of the officers announces.

Spencer refuses to believe you’re dead. Hotch leaves the unsubs in the care of Virginia PD and follows Spencer down to the basement. Light floods the room and Spencer pauses when he sees Melissa strung up wearing nothing but her panties, and you lying on a dirty mattress in the corner.

Emily and JJ immediately go to Melissa to help her down, and she starts to cry when she realizes she is being saved.

“You’re okay now. They’re not going to hurt you anymore,” JJ soothes.

Spencer runs over to you and unties the rope that binds your wrists. The second you’re free, you find the burst of energy you’ve been saving. You swing at the person who is above you thinking it’s one of the men.

Spencer grabs your wrists and tries to stabilize you but you’re thrashing too much for him to control. Derek comes over and helps Spencer hold you down, and Spencer removes the duct tape from your mouth.

“Y/N--”

“No, let me go!” you beg.

“You got her?”

“Yeah, I got her.”

Spencer lets go of you and Derek has to use his whole body to hold you still even though you’re still trying to get away. Spencer removes your blindfold and you blink rapidly to counteract the brightness of the dim lights. For someone who has had a blindfold on the entire time you’ve been here, the dim lighting it very bright to you. You look around and lock eyes with Derek who is the one who is holding you. You notice JJ and Emily caring for Melissa, and Spencer comes into view in front of you.

Almost immediately, you begin sobbing. You’re free. You’re safe now. You’re not going to hurt anymore. Every single tear you have been holding back is now coming out and there is nothing anyone can do to stop it. Derek lets you go knowing you’re not going to start swinging which allows Spencer to pull you into his arms.

“I’m so sorry, darling. You’re safe now. You’re okay now.”

You bury your face in Spencer’s chest and sob and wail as loud as you can. Spencer can’t stop his tears from falling, and he looks at the rest of the team. JJ and Emily are in tears, Derek is clenching his jaw tightly, Hotch has a stoic look on his face but is breaking down inside, and Rossi has to look away before he cries.

“We need a medic,” Hotch says into his mic.

By the time the ambulance arrives, your sobs have died down to quiet cries. The men are all arrested and put into separate cop cars, and you’re laid onto a stretcher. Melissa is taken to the hospital in another ambulance, and you’re put into the back of the first one.

“Spencer,” you whimper.

“I’m right here.” He climbs into the back and sits next to you. He grabs your hand and runs his thumb across the back of your hand. “I’m right here. You’re safe now.”

“Please don’t leave me,” you cry.

“I’m not. I’m right here. You’re not alone. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

The entire ride to the hospital is you crying over your innocence being destroyed and Spencer trying not to cry.

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fiction #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds angst

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wifeyoozi · 9 months ago

Text

🍚 boyfriend!woozi headcanons (sfw + nsfw) this accidentally came out so sweet pls I am down bad sucker for softcore uji

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who's tsundere™ like literally head over heels for you but keeps a straight face about it

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who's almost constantly thinking of you no matter what he's doing making it so hard for him to work sometimes (figuratively and literally)

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who regularly calls you when he's on tour and keeps you on video call whenever he's free even if you two aren't talking

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who casually gets you little and big gifts and acts nonchalant about it when internally he's literally melting from the way you burst of joy, even if it's just a cat keychain he gifted you.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who does not shut up about how amazing his girlfriend is to all of his friends almost without realising it

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who's literally so grateful to have you in his life and is so serious about it he literally thanks God to let him have you in his life.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who loves nothing more than holding you in his arms and everytime he holds you, it looks like he's holding his whole world in his arms (he pretty much is)

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who's shy to even hold your hand in public but will NOT stop touching you and clinging on you whenever you're home

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who's heart literally melts when you come to his studio with warm (homemade) food to take care of him when he doesn't take care of himself.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who feels all of his stress evaporate when he looks at your smile.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who loves kissing you and making you feel loved in the bed you share.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who's a service dom and makes every night you spend intimately only about you, loves making you feel like you are the most beautiful thing in the world

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who is practically a god at making you cum, he's THAT good with his mouth, fingers and dick

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who knows how rarely he gets to take you properly in bed with his busy schedule so he makes sure you're pleasured all night long, putting you to sleep only around early morning after a good aftercare and cuddling.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who cannot fall asleep as peacefully unless you are cuddling against him like a bear, making him feel all warm and loved and safe.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who tends to get horny when you come to his studio wearing skimpy clothes.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi with whom studio sex is literally canon. He will make you sleep on his lap cockwarming him as he finishes his work

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who would put up with mingyu for a whole evening just to make dinner for you if it meant he could see you all happy and jumpy and excited like that.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who loves doing the silliest and simplest things with you, like brushing your teeth or watching cartoon/anime or going on late night walk, just because it's with you.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who literally has heart eyes everytime he looks at you and he cannot stop it even if he wanted to.

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who loves giving you a head, he's so fucking pussy drunk

🍚 boyfriend!woozi who also loves your boobs, not just sexually but also emotionally, like they are his personal stress balls that he gotta get a handful of everytime he's stressed.

🍚 boyfriend!jihoon who occasionally holds you and cries, apologising prefusely for not being good enough, for not giving you enough time and attention that you deserve, for not being able to love you like he wants to, even when you keep telling him he's more than you have ever wanted and how much you love him regardless and how happy he's made you feel.

🍚 boyfriend!jihoon who really wants to understand the lengths to which he loves you, and even when he can't verbally tell you always, he would do it with his actions by doing something silly like writing a song for you and having seokmin or seungkwan sing it as he plays his guitar, unable to meet your eyes with how shy he gets but cannot let go of the smile that plasters on his face.

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moonselune · 7 months ago

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How do you think the BG3 companions would be as parents or aunties/uncles? I personally headcanon that Shadowheart would be a very doting mother but would be the fun aunt.

OOoooOOOOoOO yes I'm doing this for all of them, no character can escape me now

Karlach:

As an aunt:

She is definitely the auntie that comes round and the children just band together trying to take her to the ground

"Get Auntie Karlach"

And how auntie Karlach puts up a fight, she is swinging children around throwing them onto soft furnishings, tickling them.

Eventually she will relent and let the children pin her to the floor, pretending to 'die'

Though she has done this too convincingly and it too you half an hour to calm your child down, assuring them that auntie karlach was not in fact dead, and this was their aunt and not a zombie.

If there's just one child, you know that when they hear auntie karlach is coming round they are using al of their free time strategising on how to get her

Karlach will sometime take them as their hostage and refuse to let them go when they are hugging and just carries them around till you agree to her terms

Which is either a later bedtime for you (because at this point you have joined forces) or extra cake.

As a mother:

Mama K !!!!

So caring and doting, nothing is too much for her

She would move mountains for her kid and support them regardless

They want to be a bookworm? She wants to hear all your favourite stories

They are more sporty, she will beat them at every game and only occasionally let them win

Is honestly a big kid herself so I can so imagine, you having to call them in for dinner and they are both pouting saying that want to play outside for longer

definitely the less strict parent, they could probably get away with anything

as long as it doesn't mean they get hurt

as soon as they get hurt, mama k is not letting them out of their sight for a WEEK

Minthara:

As an aunt:

Not my kid, not my responsibility attitude

you want a dagger? Sure here's how to hold it properly

you cut yourself on it, that's too damn bad learn to hold it better

definitely buys them a ridiculous amount of expensive gifts but she doesn't really realise it

think of the vibe of "What can one banana cost? ten dollars?"

as soon as they get messy or are dirty they are not coming within 10 feet of her

Snot bubble? That child is getting yeeted across the room

Very much this

As a mother:

I have so many thoughts about this

I think because of her exile she would look at the drow matron system much differently

Instead of raising children to be pawns and agents of her plan there would be a deeper level of relationship meaning a deeper level of loyalty.

Loyalty is a big thing for Minthara and what is more loyal than the unconditional love of a child

so she is going to nurture and tend to that relationship, make that bond between her and her child incredibly strong, they want the child to adore her and respect her, so she will adore and respect them back (that's what she tells herself, in reality she loves her children dearly)

She will dote on them, ensure they only have the best, this is her child after all

Very possessive of the child, and very overprotective

Would definitely guilt the child

but that's probably the worst part of her parenting overall I feel like she would be a very fair and good parent in general (especially compared to normal drow mothers)

Lae'zel:

As an aunt:

aunt? more like coach.

she is training them to be the best warrior or whatever they want to be ever

will she drag your child out of bed at the crack of dawn so they can practice

will then tell them Gith stories when the child starts to fall asleep on them afterwards

carries them with care and tenderness

is so bad for contradicting you

parent said no? Well auntie Lae'zel says yes so lets do it

not allowed this thing? here's ten of them

As a mother:

I actually think she would be rather laid back

she wouldn't fret over them and trust that they knew what they were doing

though as soon as they don't know what they are doing she is there right away to hover over them and help

slightly protective but only because she doesn't trust others

teaches them self defence at the youngest age possible

tells them the best bedtime stories in extremely graphic detail to the point where you have to step in

but the child doesn't mind

in fact how did they manage to get to sleep so easily

her kid is better than the rest, can do no wrong, bad grades? More like bad teacher.

Shadowheart:

As an aunt:

Wine aunt - it's basically canon at this point, so all of these will be with a glass of wine in her hand lmao

Would be so down to have tea parties with them

prefers the sit down games rather than the running around screaming ones - those are for auntie karlach

Shows you all of her animals and teaches you their names and how to care for them

would definitely give them a pet even if you had already said no

and by the time you realise what's happened your child is too attached to it

definitely would let them mess around, and be like if you hurt yourself its your fault

but as soon as they hurt themselves, she's there healing them bribing them not to tell you what happened

As a mother:

helicopter mom to begin with and then eventually when her child proves to be more robust than expected she relaxes a bit

just says yes to any animal they find and want to bring home

so now there's foxy, ratty, mousey and badgery (Shadowheart tried to suggest names but they were having none of it)

Is always there for you no matter what, you can tell her anything and you feel like you can tell her anything

has a tendency to be a little strict but only for your own good

Jaheira:

As an aunt:

she is the aunt of all aunts

gives the best hugs, tells you the best stories

teases you all the time

just constant poking fun

and the day you give it back

she is just so proud

also has that attitude of 'not my kid not my responsibility' but that is such a lie

will love you like her own

As a mother:

we already see what Jaheira is like a mother

very welcoming but has a habit to push them away when there's danger involved or perhaps can be preoccupied with 'the greater good'

I also think that Jaheira is the type of mother to keep everything, every baby tooth, every drawing, everything

She keeps them in a little chest and when she is down she looks at them and she always feels so much better.

Gale:

As an uncle:

hey kids wanna see a cool trick

blows up the living room

"DO IT AGAIN!"

brings them books on just everything

reads to them a lot and teaches them things that they probably shouldn't know at their age

the kid needs an alibi?

Gale is there for it

We've seen his dialogue in the grove, we all know that he supports childhood deliquency and he will so support them in it

As a father:

Thinks their child is the most precious thing in the world

the light of his life (aside from you)

will teach them magic before they can even speak

puts on the most beautiful illusions for the child to sleep to

lives just to see them smile

very overprotective and guilty of infantilising your child

he can't help it, you are just so adorable

PTA Mom, he runs that motherfucker

No stacey, your lemon buns are not acceptable, and no its not because my child detests them, get a grip

he just absolutely adores his child

Astarion:

As an uncle:

Astarion would steal your child to help with his schemes and nobody can convince me otherwise

You think I? With this adorable baby on my hip, would steal your fine jewels? Honestly the audacity

Uses your child as an alibi

How could I do it? I was tending to my dear child

Ser that's not your-

MY DEAR CHILD

Much like Minthara, loves the child until they start making a mess

Would so make them little outfits and the child's teddies little outfits

As a father:

I believe that Astarion would see the child as his absolute fresh start

he is going to be the best version of himself for the child

he is going to try his absolute best for them

going to give them the world

will definitely teach them to lock pick at a young age

and again uses them as an alibi

You think I, with my adorable impressionable child right here, would steal? Truly your standard of parenting may be low but mine is not.

When the baby is on the way he is just stress sewing, your house is filled with baby clothes, blankets, quilts, hats anything Astarion could imagine that the child might need

your child in not wearing the same outfit twice, not because of fashion, no because there are simply so many outfits

Wyll:

As an uncle:

Would be the best story teller, and does all the voices and personas

Loves to play and mess around with them

Would teach them how to sword fight like he did with the children in the grove

Would spoil them rotten as well and know he was doing it though if confronted he would play so dumb

What do you mean I only got them this wooden rocking horse, I could have got them two - but I didn't !

As a father:

very similar to Wyll as an uncle

but imagine him passing down all of the stories and life lessons that his father passed down to him

but the thing that gets me in the feels

is him teaching the child how to dance

from them dancing on his toes to them being able to pull of a move flawlessly

Wyll would genuinely get emotional when you no longer need his guidance or help

And by emotional I mean sobbing

definitely overprotective when it comes to your potential dance partners and all that

no one will ever be good enough for his child

Halsin:

As an uncle:

would just steal the child

it is his now

so sorry for your loss but this is definitely not ur baby

yes they look identical but this one belongs to the forest

oh gods he would so kidnap the child if you lived in the city

but to him it's not kidnapping

it's rescuing

the city doesn't deserve such a treasure

teaches them how to carve wood and instills an important respect for nature into them

if your child got in an argument with you they would so pull the

"Well fine! I'm just going to live in the forest with Uncle Halsin!"

As a father:

They are so precious to him

When he looks into their eyes the world is just right

Their first word is bear, obviously

Teaches them druidic magic and how to wildshape

as soon as your child figures it out it is chaos

you have a bear and baby bear running riot

very hesitant to let you go out into the city

to go far from him actually

he has just lost so much

he cannot afford to lose you too

apart from that, he is the best

Rolan:

As an uncle:

the BEST

shows them so many cool tricks

definitely gives them spell books that they probably definitely should not have

would so side with them if they argued with their parent, regardless of if the child is in the right or not

he knows how his siblings can be

shows off to the kid all the time

when they were a baby they would tell Rolan he's found his perfect audience - one that can only watch in wonder

but as you grow you always demand that Uncle Rolan shows your his magic

and it warms his heart every single time

As a father:

He would be so nervous bless him

always thinking he is doing something wrong

but he is an amazing father

encourages and supports their ambitions

reads to them

I just have a picture of Rolan with a baby sling, tending to Ramazith's tower, just thinking aloud to them and when they babble back he exclaims how glad he is that they agree with them

very overprotective

he just doesn't want them to get hurt, like ever.

the child could scrape their knee and say they are fine and Rolan would be having a meltdown

Cannot handle you growing up

You will always be his baby

Raphael:

As an uncle:

I can't imagine him being a very doting uncle

Raphael most likely has loads of nieces and nephews and he does not care for a single one of them

unless

unless one of them is showing particular talent, something that he needs and then he is all over them

would definitely get them in a contract

"You can trust me, your dear Uncle, now just sign there.."

As a father:

M y h e i r

So devoted and dedicated to them

But also possessive and controlling I can imagine

He dictates their schedule, their schooling, where they go, what they wear, who they socialise with

they will be spectacular, his little hellfire

though lets say they disobeyed him, they snuck out for a few hours or so

they are not leaving the house of hope for a few months or so

that's how it works

they will obey him, and they will love him, he is their father, their creator

and if anyone hurts his child?

he will drag the offender to deepest pits of hell and make his child watch as a show of his love for them.

I'm so sorry that this was stuck in the drafts for so long but here it is ! These are mainly a collection of my own rambling thoughts but hope others enjoy it too ! - Seluney xox

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reve-writes · 2 years ago

Text

—the set-up; kaz brekker.

ʚ kaz brekker x reader | grishaverse | 1,8k words. ʚ from this request. | three times the crows plan to set you and kaz up + the one time they find out you're married. ʚ fluff; the crows are featured (incl. wesper & helnik ship); kaz's touch aversion isn't featured. ʚ a/n this has been sitting in the drafts for a bit. ive been suffering down the leon brainrot hole (honestly an excellent one to fall into). kaz calls reader schatje (i have a fic where he does this. i chose schatje because ketterdam is loosely inspired from 1500s-1700s amsterdam!). i wrote this in a goofy way honestly.

one. he smiles.

Wylan fiddles with jars and tubes filled with an assortment of chemicals—some of them tend to explode, all of them horrible smelling. He's supposed to be on guard duty and he prefers it over running around guns blazing alongside Jesper—as much as he loves the sharpshooter, gunshots give him a lot of anxiety.

He peers into the room where most of the work is happening.

You are poring over stacks of documents, eyes scanning quickly top-to-bottom to find relevant information. Kaz has his ear pressed against the front of a safe, gloved hand twisting the lock. You move around him in the cramped office space with relative ease, grabbing more files to read on the desk.

It doesn't take long for the safe to swing open.

“No safe is safe from Kaz Brekker, the safe-cracker, huh?” you comment. A light, teasing smile decorates your lips.

“Please never say that sentence again.”

To Wylan's surprise, the ever-frowning Dirtyhands smiles. Not the half-hearted hospitable smile he occasionally gives out, or the scary half-sneer half-smirk that is so intimidating it scares even Wylan sometimes. No, a genuine, amused smile. It is so unnatural that he has to look away, a hand clasped over his mouth in shock.

When he tells Jesper, the taller man mirrors his reaction, dark eyes blown wide and jaw unhinged.

“He smiled?” Jesper gives an incredulous stare as if Wylan has just told him that he is a member of the Council of Tide—which is impossible with Wylan's lack of Grisha ability, let alone tidemaking. “He smiled over that?”

Wylan nods enthusiastically.

“We are talking about the same Kaz?”

“Are there any other Kaz that we know?” Wylan sighs.

“Well, no—”

“I think we have to proceed with the plan,” Wylan ponders. Jesper blinks widely.

“The plan?”

“Nina's plan!” Wylan looks at Jesper as if he's just gotten a strike of inspiration, hand in the air, pointing at nothing in particular. “Operation Kaz and ____. Remember?”

Jesper remembers. It was so ridiculous that it remains impossible to remove from his memory to this day, even though it was mentioned in passing.

Nina, flushed red from too many drinks, suddenly shoots her hand up, flailing it limply. The founder of the idea seems to have a plan ready to set in motion.

“We are the gods of love!” She drunkenly declares, free hand moves to tap Wylan's cheeks repeatedly. “And as the benevolent gods that we are, our first mission is them.”

Nina pushes Wylan's face towards you and Kaz, sat at the bar, deep in conversation. The rest of the Crows followed suit, realising Nina's suggestion. She stumbles over drunkenly and with little-to-no care on making it look as natural or accidental as she can, "trips" over her foot and falls forward.

You take the brunt of the force, being pushed forward that you fall onto Kaz. The latter glares at Nina, hand coming to your shoulder to steady you.

“My bad.... It seems I've lost my balance,” she slurs. “Oh! Would you look at that? The two of you would make quite a pair, don't you think so, Matthias?”

Matthias raises an eyebrow, already hauling Nina with him to get back to their table.

“Poor Helvar,” says Kaz simply, nudging you to get back on the barstool.

“He doesn't seem to mind,” you retort, noting Matthias' loving gaze as he escorts Nina.

It doesn't take long before the chaos settles, leaving you and Kaz, still engaging in conversation as the last patrons leave the Crow Club.

“We would make a good pair, huh?” You tease, reaching over to brush your hand against his, leather soft under your palm. “You think so?”

Kaz looks at you pointedly, tugging your left hand towards him, fingers pressing on the small diamond adorning your ring finger. “Would I have given you this, if I didn't?”

Smooth with his words without even trying. A trait you find both annoying and endearing after all the years you've been together.

“I mean you have a lot of diamonds lying around—”

“Schatje.”

“Yes?” All train of thought immediately halts on its tracks. The petname has a hold over you that he oh-so-often uses as leverage. You pout. “Stop distracting me.”

He smiles—soft and uncharacteristic, contradictory to the harsh rasp of his voice and the rough scars on his skin. He smiles a smile he reserves only for your eyes, and you're falling for it, a hundred times over.

two. the demjin.

You don't like when Kaz gets like this—all wrung up over a waivable matter. It reminds you a lot of what he had to be before, the things he had to do and what Dirtyhands actually stood for. Not at all akin to the Kaz Brekker you know—the one who immediately comes whenever one of your crew is threatened, the one who stays up with you as you wait for the rest of your little heist crew to return, the one who goes out of his way to collect little trinkets to bring home to you.

You are hurt, shallow cuts all over your body from a little dagger scuffle with a mercenary, but you're a member of the Dregs—this, you can take. A little Heartrender magic and some bandages, you will recover in no time.

“You're back.”

Kaz stops and you look over him to find his knuckles bloodied, hair stuck out of place and clothes disheveled.

“You're alright, schatje?”

His room at the Slat isn't big contrary to popular belief. He sinks into his chair with a huge sigh. You're watching him three steps away from the edge of his bed.

“What did you do?”

He shrugs, tugging his coat off. “Business.”

“You went after them.”

“It was one part of the business.” He pulls at his gloves, shedding them into the trash—too bloodied for him to bother cleaning. “Are you sure you're alright?”

You tuck your hands into your elbows, displeasure visible across your features. “Are you?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“Kaz.”

“They deserved it,” he stubbornly says. “I had to make sure they know not to involve themselves with us. You understand. Besides, I'm alright.”

“I do understand,” you relent. It is business. The Barrell doesn't stop for poets or musicians or lovers, no, it thrives off of the back of violence, taking an eye for an eye. “I just wish that you were here when I woke up.”

His shoulders loosen and he is your Kaz again. Not the one molded by Ketterdam, birthed at its harbour. He's the man so in love that he will dry the seas for you if you say the word. Kaz takes your hands. They are warm on his skin and his heart swells.

“I am sorry, schatje.”

You kneel in front of him, leaning your elbows on his thighs to press a brief kiss on his lips. “Let's stay off business for a while.”

“Kaz?” A sound outside the door, followed by three raps. “Are you in there?”

“He is, Jesper. Give us a moment,” you reply.

You hear hushed whispers—both low voices, so you assume it's Wylan. Your suspicion is confirmed when the second voice sounds from behind the door.

“No, we—no, Jes—don't have anything urgent. We simply wanted to know if he is well. Take your time. We'll be going now.”

“Good night, Wylan,” you reply, immediately hearing fading footsteps soon after.

“Fifty kruge says they're already together,” says Jesper, out of your earshot.

Wylan rolls her eyes. “Fifty on them not dating yet.”

Jesper immediately clasps Wylan's hand with a loud “Deal!”

iii. the marketplace.

“Busybodies,” Kaz complained, walking a step behind you as you're treading through the Ketterdam food market. “They are not even hiding. In broad daylight. How have they never gotten caught before?”

“Kaz, my love.” You are trying not to laugh as you're picking and choosing fruits. “They usually do a better job on actual missions.”

They refer to your five lovely friends who have decided to tail you as you're coming down to the market. Kaz is the first to take notice—blurry figures moving erratically ten steps behind you.

“I should assign them something to do instead of... whatever it is they're currently doing.”

“They're curious.” You shrug, handing over a few slips of Kruge to the seller and leaving with your bag five apples heavier. “We've been acting suspicious lately. They'll find out soon enough.”

“I'll bet Inej finds out first.” Kaz nudges your fingers with his, taking the bag from you as he matches his step with yours. “The Wraith does a better job at spying.”

“My bet is Matthias.” An unlikely one. He's probably the least nosy out of the five.

Suddenly, you're pulled into a small nook, squuezed between buildings and he presses a kiss on your lips. One turns to two and you're smiling like a lovesick fool when he pulls away.

“We're being followed and you pull this?”

“Schatje, our pursuers are horrendously bad at this.” He shrugs, pulling away. You resume your trek through the market. “Look. They've lost us.”

iv. the marriage certificate.

“Fake IDs,” Kaz says, pointing at the towering Fjerdan. “You'll be collecting them from Anika.”

Matthias doesn't mind running errands, although he does think that he'll be better suited for physical fights other than fetching papers, but he doesn't argue. It seems he is doing more than simply fetching papers though.

“That is real?” He asks Anika, pointing at a marriage certificate she has on her desk. Marriage certificates are mundane enough not to warrant this type of reaction, but it is the name that shocks even him to the core. Kaz Brekker and you, married?

“As real as can be around here.” Anika scrambles to hide it away. “Here are your IDs. Don't tell anyone about it.”

In Matthias' defense, he doesn't end up telling just anyone. He tells Nina and Nina is the one telling everyone else. Within a week, every member of the Crows have known about it.

Wylan hands Jesper slips of fifty kruge, grumbling that this is unfair. Nina looks like spring has just arrived. Inej is probably the least reactive—but that is because she's already found out long before the others. She's the Wraith after all. Matthias is anxious. For all everyone knows, he is the one responsible for the news.

You strut into the dining room, seeing everyone gathered and raise an eyebrow.

“Why are you all here?”

“We want to ask—”

Before Nina can finish her sentence, Jesper blurts out. “You're married?”

You chuckle, shrugging. “You found out.”

“How long?”

“Kaz? Really?”

“How did that happen?”

A series of questions that you don't actually answer. You stand there, leaning on the back of one of the wooden chairs situated in the room—remorseless to your very core.

“Ask him about it.”

That ends the discussion. None of them will actually ask him about it and even if any of them actually finds the courage to, the likelihood of Kaz answering anything that's not a sarcastic remark or a threat is close to none.

“How did you find out anyway?”

Everyone points towards Matthias and to the Fjerdan's horror, Nina's pointer finger finds him, too.

You only smile, silently planning to brag to your spouse that you've won your bet.

[ ].

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #—ki writes 🍯

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galactic-magick · 2 months ago

Text

Request: can u pls do au claggor x fem reader where the reader gets hurt and he takes care of her

Hope you like it anon! :)

Claggor knew this was a bad idea.

But alas, you’re always so stubborn, and there was no way of convincing you not to come with him (although he did try).

You wanted to come with him down to the fissures, insisting that you could help him in some way. He’s been doing tests for months now, working with different plants and methods of cleaning the air. He at the very least got you to put a mask on while you’re down there, even though you both have been used to breathing that toxic air your whole lives.

The mines are full of sharp objects and plenty of things to trip over, causing Claggor to keep you close to him at all times. He’s holding your hand, pulling you in at your waist, and occasionally just carrying you in his arms or on his back. He refuses to let you get hurt.

Despite all his efforts, though, the inevitable still happens.

You had wandered off while he was focused on experimenting with the soil, exploring the abandoned parts of the mines with curiosity. You bumped into something a little too clumsily, and before you processed what you hit, an old tool comes falling down.

You scream, nothing in your mind registering but excruciating pain.

Claggor calls your name and sprints towards your shrill voice, finding you on the ground, your leg bloody and likely broken.

He rips off a piece of his shirt and wraps it tightly around the gash, hoping the pressure will be enough to slow the bleeding until he can get you home.

“I-I’m sorry, Clag-” you say between sobs. “I know you didn’t want me down here…”

“Stop it,” he refutes you, scooping you up with ease. “I need to get you back. You’re going to be okay.”

He tends to you fervently, making sure your leg isn’t infected and wrapping it up in a somewhat sloppy cast. He gives you some pain potion from the bathroom cabinet and surrounds you with pillows on your bed so you’re as comfortable as possible. He doesn’t say much—too focused on your wounds to form words.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask, eyes still watery.

“Why would I be mad at you?” he finishes tucking you in with blankets and brushes a hair out of your face.

“I didn’t listen to you, and now you have to deal with taking care of me.”

“When have I ever complained about taking care of you?” he slides in beside you on the bed and wraps his arm around you gently.

“But you had so much you wanted to get done today,”

“So? I’ll do it another day,” he kisses the top of your head. “There is nothing I’d rather be doing right now.”

You smile. The pain is still far from subsiding, but the safety of Claggor’s arms make it much more bearable.

#arcane x reader #claggor x reader #arcane claggor #arcane

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 11 months ago

Note

hi there, could I get poppy playtime (if that is to many characters then just catnap and dogday are fine) with a reader that has pica (if you don't know what that is it is where a person can tend to eat or bite on things not edible, like paper, erasers, eca)

I can do a few!

.....

Huggy (saved/rescued) + Poppy

While in his "idle mode" on the podium, he sees you munching on a piece of paper like lettuce and then plush stuffing like it's cotton candy.

And then you just snatch the key from him and move onto the next puzzle, and he goes "???????"

Why did you eat those things? Did they somehow sustain your hunger?

Huggy only gets to learn more after you save him from falling (and tame him with an actual edible snack you brought along), taking a breather after freeing Poppy from her box.

When he grabs one a random paper, you assume he wants to draw something as a way to communicate...until he starts chowing it down.

In his mind, humans DO eat paper and he's been starving and cannibalizing toys (and trying to eat you) for nothing...

But then he spits it out, picking shredded bits out of his teeth, before glaring at you as if you told him to eat that.

You're a little scared and confused until Poppy explains that he was only trying to mimic what you do, and she asks why you eat such random little things.

Eventually you explain to the pair of your condition called "pica".

You've had it most of your life, with an official diagnosis to boot, but it never really hurt your digestive tract.

Over the years you've cut the habit, although being stuck in this factory meant you had to find other sources of food...even those not even considered food at all.

Some of your coworkers knew about it, and their only complaint was the occasional eraser going missing thanks to you (which you deny stealing...most of the time).

"I always joke about having a cast-iron stomach," you tell the toys. "Food is the least of my......"

But you pause and look at Huggy, realizing he might be offended by you shrugging off food as negligible to your survival.

No matter what, though, it's not gonna stop him from trying different non-food items and seeing what tastes good.

He might've eaten pieces of clothing and plush fabric/stuffing over the years, albeit none of it was delicious by itself.

Dogday

"They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin and eat away at you bit by little bit--fill what feels empty inside themselves."

"Jesus, that sounds horrific." You say as you crunch on a piece of chalk (one of several that you got from the schoolhouse) nonchalantly.

Dogday takes immediate notice and is rather concerned. He knows the chalk and crayons here are made to be non-toxic, but insists they're not safe for human consumption.

He fears it's gonna kill you and begs you to stop, saying you needed to live.

Before you could fully explain your condition, the mini-critters are closing in, so you free him and haul ass out of the playhouse of horrors.

After making it somewhere safe where you could patch him up, he presses you on why you continue to eat all these foreign objects.

But he jumps to the conclusion that you got desperate after running out of food, going mad from hunger like the other toys did...

He recalls Picky Piggy going through something similar, and he gets a bad flashback to the Hour of Joy when he had to stop her from eating Crafty's paint....and the corpse of a Smiling Critter -

"Dogday? Hey stay with me..it's okay. I'm here, I'm here.." You console him, calming him down from his panic attack. "I'm not going crazy, alright? I just have this small condition called pica."

"...p-pica? Oh. I thought...kids grow outta that.." He mutters, finding familiarity with that term.

He's had his fair share of toddlers putting things in their mouth that could be choking hazards.

You shake your head, explaining that it stuck with you, but it doesn't cause your stomach any pain as long as you're careful about what you eat.

Dogday's relieved you're not losing it.

Even so, though, he's gonna feel nervous if he catches you eating another piece of chalk.

But it's just his instincts as a child caretaker, so you couldn't blame him.

Catnap

He hangs out in the shadows for the most part, watching your every move...and he does pick up on your strange habit of eating non-food objects.

It's something orphaned toddlers in the playhouse often did, and he'd see the other Smiling Critters hurry to take the items away from them before any emergencies happened.

But those memories mean nothing to him.

All he's doing is waiting for you to eat the wrong thing and keel over.

Unfortunately for him, you just keep trudging on, munching on a crayon like it's normal before throwing your gas mask back on.

He doesn't know how you manage to stomach so many things, and honestly is kinda envious.

Why can't he and the others sustain their hunger like you did?

It does make for some rather..amusing situations, though. Such as when you're in the smoke factory and use the elevator to escape him.

You just stand there as the doors close, eating some chalk and crunching it loudly without breaking eye contact with Catnap's horrific eldritch form.

Obviously, you're stress-eating at that point, but he doesn't have to know.

Miss Delight

The schoolhouse was like a cafeteria for someone with pica, aka you.

While looking for generators, you just pick up whatever you find: erasers, chalk, crayons, etc. and start biting them, or even chewing and swallowing them.

It only succeeds in angering Miss Delight right away, as she sees you doing all of this and snaps at how "childish" you are for eating things you shouldn't.

But you when shout back that you have pica, the PA system suddenly goes quiet.

Like Dogday and Catnap, that definitely triggered some memories for her, which she dwells on for a while before realizing you were still in the school..

And seeing you eating stuff makes her howling stomach grow louder.

"Barb" says you're mocking her own hunger, especially since she notices you gathering the notes she left around the place, and insists on killing you.

When you finally do encounter her, she is visibly disturbed by you crunching on a piece of chalk and throwing it to the ground to distract her, buying you time to break eye contact and flee.

She calls you "crazy", but you're not the one chasing her with a weapon made of a ruler and colored pencils.

#clanask #poppy playtime x reader #ppt x reader #huggy wuggy #dogday #catnap #miss delight #platonic #headcanons #pica

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lets-try-some-writing · 2 months ago

Note

A fun concept,what if certain autobots/decepticons could open their faces like the animatronics in FNAF,I can see smokescreen pulling a foxy on The decepticons

Oooh I am here for this.

Transformation seams are present in every Cybertronian. Most of the time, their numbers and locations are limited, both depending on frame type and alt-mode. But occasionally, there are those who break the mold and have an excess. It's not necessarily a bad thing, often being compared to human hyperflexability when explained to the kids. But the excess seams do tend to have a few unintended side effects, such as the ability to move plating that would otherwise be stuck around the frame like a sticker to be peeled off and reapplied.

There are generally three different cases of excess seams coming into play outside of flexibility, usually in cosmetic fashions. First would be the ability to remove plating and get new armor entirely without pain. Around 5% of Cybertronians end up with this condition in some way or form and it is generally considered helpful since it allows for deeper cleaning of the protoform and temporary cosmetic changes without need for pain. The second case would be feral augmentation syndrome. Bots such as Orion Pax, those who grew up around animals or connected deeply with them and possessed the CNA for excess seams, have this condition. All it does it make their limbs more animalistic. Their jaws can open wider due to their facial protoform being highly segmented to allow for further stretch. Additionally, they are able to run on all fours perfectly comfortably due to being able to shift their plating around.

The last case, however, is the most terrifying. It is generally called proto-masking syndrome, and is only found in a starting 1% of those who come out with excess seams. Severity varies, the most minor cases leaving bots with the ability to contort their faces and mess with the metal. Severe cases allow bots to remove or transform their faces away without pain or issue. This is the one most find frightening.

Smokescreen happens to fall within this severe category of those afflicted with proto-masking syndrome. He doesn't know that he is weird and assumes almost everyone can do what he does, but simply fails to act out in large part due to politeness. As such, he doesn't transform his face away often, if at all. But when agitated, or trying to prove a point, he does instinctually transform his facial plating, and the very first time he did it for a Decepticon, horror stories formed instantly.

The bots have said exactly nothing about it to Smokescreen since it's not an issue and generally, it isn't nearly as unsettling as some of the things they've seen. But the Vehicons? They regard Smokescreen as the spark eater. The Autobots pet hunter. They try to keep clear of him as much as possible, especially when he transforms his face away. When that happens, they all assume he's going to eat them and bolt for safety.

Smokescreen is of the belief that he's just that good of a warrior. No one has seen fit to correct him yet. The kids haven't witnessed it yet and so have made no commentary. Bulkhead dreads the day they eventually see Smokey without his face. That will be a LONG conversation.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #team prime #smokescreen #bulkhead #orion pax #cybertronian biology #cybertronian culture #tfp kids #bogus biology go!

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sxftkxssxs · 1 month ago

Text

Sleeping habits with and without their S/O

Not a request but I had some ideas so I decided to make them into little Headcannons! Hope you all enjoy!

Asra

Because they run warmer they often sleep in silky pants and no top.

He is so touchy in their sleep!! You will never go to bed without him touching you somehow.

If he’s sleeping alone then they won’t move much, maybe shifting occasionally but no more than that.

If you’re going to bed with them however, they’ll end up staying in the same position all night.

When you two are sleeping in the same bed together they like to sleep with their head on your chest, hearing your heartbeat.

Asra doesn’t snore in his sleep at all, but he does occasionally hum!

Julian

He doesn’t like layers at all and this means he’s going to sleep in just his underwear.

This also continues into how many blankets he has, which is just one and it’s pretty thin.

If he’s sleeping alone he has no problem taking up the whole bed. He’ll end up with limbs everywhere and no idea how they got there.

If you’re with him you’ll have to either adjust or figure out a way to get him to relax. He moves almost the exact same amount, somehow avoiding hitting or pushing you most of the time.

Julian runs extremely cold. He likes it cold but he also loves your warmth, and he will touch you will his cold feet/hands in the middle of the night.

Julian does snore but it’s not super loud. His snoring is almost like background noise.

Nadia

Nadia sleeps in a silk nightgown, with short sleeves and that ends near her knees.

She also has a robe to wear over it, which she wears if she needs to get up for any reason.

Nadia runs chilly, though not as cold as Julian nor will she randomly torture you with her cold limbs during the night.

She doesn’t mind who ends up in which role, but she always loves spooning. It’s her favorite way to fall asleep with you.

Nadia doesn’t make any noise in her sleep other than occasional deep breaths.

Muriel

This guy is a personal heater. He still sleeps with pelts due to the forest getting chilly during the night but his hut is always warm and cozy.

Due to how warm he runs he generally sheds some layers ending up in pants and whatever top he’s currently wearing

Muriel always wants to hold you, wants to feel like he’s protecting you even while you both sleep. He also really likes if you face him. He won’t ever verbally express that but the way it flusters him gives it away.

He doesn’t make much noise. Much like Nadia, he might take a deep breath or a heavy exhale. Occasionally, if he’s having a bad dream he might grunt.

Inanna has her own little pile of pelts and pillows next to your bed. Somehow she always worms her way into the bed though…

Portia

Portia sleeps in a sleeveless top and shorts.

She tends to run chilly, but has so many blankets that she gets extremely warm during the night.

She doesn’t care how you two position yourselves for sleep, but she would enjoy getting to hold you!

Portia sleep talks during the night. It’s soft and quiet but definitely there. She’ll be amused if you tell her stories in the morning about what she said.

Pepi can often be found in the bed with you both, near the bottom of the mattress.

Lucio

Somehow this man runs hotter than anyone else on this list. He has no shame in sleeping in just his underwear, even with you around.

Lucio has a robe and thinks it makes him look the royalty role, with its red and gold color scheme he always adores.

He would love to be able to hold you all night but eventually, two bundles of pure white fur end up between you both.

That’s right, the M&M duo aren’t afraid to take what they want even during the night.

Melchior end up on your side, nudging his way into your arms and onto your chest. Mercedes just sits herself on top of Lucio and decides it’s his problem to cope with that.

They’ll push and whine and kick in their sleep. Only if they’re having a very intense dream.

Lucio will snore, grunt, and sleeps insanely light. If you so much as try to leave the bed before dawn he’s snapping his head up asking where you’re going.

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lila-lou · 3 months ago

Text

✨Taking her in - Pt. 8✨

Summary: After Dean Winchester saves your life, he brings you into the safety of the bunker. As you grow older and stronger, Dean refuses to let you join the hunts, his overprotective behavior intensifying. But beneath his fierce protectiveness lies something darker—conflicted feelings he can’t face. As your 18th birthday approaches, Dean struggles to keep control, torn between his duty to protect you and emotions he’s buried for too long.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: HUGE Age Gap, Immoral, Underage Reader, Language, angst, fluff

Word Count: 7586

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💜

The afternoon sun was warm, casting a golden glow over the lake as you and Jody’s girls, Claire and Alex, lounged on the soft grass near the shore. The atmosphere was peaceful, with the sounds of birds chirping and the occasional splash of water breaking the silence. Sam and Jody were a little ways off, tending to the grill, while Dean lay beside you, seemingly asleep with his sunglasses shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight.

You were enjoying the tranquility, letting yourself relax. The gentle breeze coming off the lake was soothing, and the smell of the grill in the distance made your stomach rumble in anticipation of the meal to come.

Claire, who had been lying on her back staring up at the sky, suddenly rolled onto her side to face you. She glanced over at Dean, who remained still, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Satisfied that he wasn’t listening, she nudged you lightly with her elbow, a mischievous grin on her face.

“So”, Claire began, her tone conspiratorial, “Jody mentioned something about a guy named Jake. Care to share?”.

You felt your cheeks flush almost instantly at Claire’s question, the warmth of embarrassment creeping up your neck. Despite all the tough fronts you’d put up in the past, the topic of Jake had a way of breaking through that exterior. It wasn’t something you were used to—being vulnerable, especially not in front of the girls. But here you were, blushing like a schoolgirl with a crush, and it was impossible to hide.

“Uh, yeah”, you mumbled, trying to brush it off casually. “We’ve gone on a couple of dates. He’s nice”.

Claire’s grin widened, clearly enjoying this more than she should. “Just nice? Come on, you’re blushing! There’s gotta be more to it than just ‘nice'”.

Again, you tried to play it cool, shrugging your shoulders as if it wasn’t a big deal, but you could feel the heat in your cheeks giving you away. “Okay, maybe he’s more than just nice”, you admitted, a shy smile creeping onto your face. “He’s… really sweet, actually. And funny. We’ve only been out a few times, but I like him”.

Claire’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in closer. “Oh, I knew it! You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”.

You laughed softly. “I don’t know about that. I’m just… taking it slow. We’re still getting to know each other”.

“Taking it slow, huh?”, Claire teased, winking at you.

Claire's grin only widened, clearly enjoying the way you were squirming under her teasing. She leaned in closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially, though it was still loud enough for Dean to hear every word, not that she knew that. "So", she began, her tone dripping with playful curiosity, "have you guys… you know, gone down on each other yet?".

Your eyes widened in shock, and your face turned a deep shade of crimson. "Claire!", you exclaimed, barely able to keep your voice down. The question caught you completely off guard, and the embarrassment was almost overwhelming. You couldn’t believe she had just asked that, and in such a casual tone too.

Claire laughed, clearly enjoying your reaction. "What? It's a valid question!", she teased, nudging you again. "Come on, you can't tell me you haven’t thought about it".

You were at a complete loss for words, your thoughts spinning as you tried to figure out how to respond. You hadn’t expected the conversation to take such a turn, and now your mind was racing with all sorts of thoughts that you really didn’t want to be thinking about while lying here next to Dean, even if he seemed to be asleep.

Meanwhile, Dean’s heart was pounding in his chest, his mind reeling from what he had just overheard. Claire’s question had hit him like a punch to the gut, and he felt a surge of jealousy and protectiveness that he struggled to keep in check. The idea of you being that intimate with someone else, of sharing moments like that with Jake, made something primal stir inside him.

He forced himself to stay still, to keep his breathing steady, but it was difficult when his thoughts were running wild. He knew he had no right to feel this way, no right to be upset over something that was entirely your business, but that didn’t make it any easier. The feelings he had for you were a constant battle, one that he was losing more and more each day.

You, still flustered, managed to shake your head, trying to downplay the whole thing. “No, nothing like that”, you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. “We’re just… taking it slow, like I said”.

Claire raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Well, good for you”, she said, a hint of surprise in her voice. “Most guys aren’t exactly known for their patience”.

You just shrugged, still feeling the heat in your cheeks. “Jake’s different”, you replied softly, more to yourself than to Claire. “He’s not pushing for anything. It’s nice”.

Dean’s grip on his self-control tightened. He knew he couldn’t react, couldn’t give away that he was listening to every word, but the combination of your soft tone and the content of your conversation was tearing him apart inside. He had always known you deserved someone who would treat you right, someone who wouldn’t rush you or make you feel pressured. And as much as he hated to admit it, Jake sounded like he was that guy.

Claire gave you a knowing look, clearly satisfied with the information she’d gotten out of you. “Well, just make sure you’re doing what makes you happy”, she said with a wink. “And if you ever want to talk about it, you know where to find me”.

You nodded, grateful for her support, even if her teasing had been a little too much for you to handle. “Thanks, Claire”, you murmured, your mind still racing with everything you’d just confessed.

Dean lay there, his heart still pounding, his mind a mess of conflicting emotions. He knew he needed to keep it together, to keep pretending he hadn’t heard a thing.

But deep down, despite the turmoil swirling in his mind, Dean couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief—a small, selfish comfort in knowing that you were still a virgin, that you hadn’t crossed that particular line with Jake. It was a complicated, messy feeling, one he didn’t want to acknowledge, let alone explore. But it was there, simmering beneath the surface, mingling with the guilt and the jealousy that had become his constant companions.

He knew it wasn’t right to feel this way. You were your own person, capable of making your own decisions, and you deserved to explore those parts of life on your terms. But the idea of you sharing something so intimate, so special, with someone else made his chest tighten. It was a possessive instinct that he didn’t like admitting to himself. Yet, as much as he tried to suppress it, the feeling was undeniable.

Dean remained perfectly still, feigning sleep as he continued to listen to the conversation between you and Claire. He knew it was wrong, that he should stop eavesdropping, but he couldn’t help himself. Every word you said gave him more insight into where your head was at, and even though it made him feel things he’d rather not feel, he couldn’t turn away from it.

You, on the other hand, were still trying to navigate the complicated emotions brought on by Claire’s teasing. The conversation had dredged up feelings you hadn’t fully processed, feelings about Jake, about Dean, about everything that had been happening lately. It was hard to make sense of it all, especially with Dean lying right there, so close yet so far away.

Part of you wanted to talk to him, to open up about the confusion and the tension that had been building between you. But another part of you was terrified of what that conversation might lead to. Dean was such a significant part of your life, and the idea of risking that connection, of possibly ruining it, was too much to bear.

So, you kept those feelings locked away, hidden behind a smile as you continued to chat with Claire. You didn’t notice the way Dean’s jaw clenched slightly, the way his breathing hitched just a little when the conversation turned to more innocent topics. To you, he was still asleep, blissfully unaware of the turmoil that you were experiencing.

As the evening approached and the sky began to darken, the excitement in the air was palpable. You have decided to celebrate into your birthday. And even though the emotions of the past few days were still lingering in the back of your mind, you were determined to have a good time and enjoy the night.

It was now 10 PM, and you were in your room, sitting on the edge of the bed as Alex sat across from you, carefully working on your makeup. She had insisted on taking charge of getting you ready, declaring that you needed to look “absolutely stunning” for your birthday celebration. Claire, on the other hand, was leaning against the window frame, her arms crossed as she looked outside where Dean was grumbling about some bird having the audacity to leave a mess on his beloved Impala.

“Hold still”, Alex muttered as she carefully applied mascara to your lashes. “You’re going to be the center of attention tonight, and we’re not letting you go out there looking anything less than perfect”.

You chuckled, though you tried to stay as still as possible. “I appreciate the effort, Alex. I’m sure whatever you do will be great”.

Alex grinned, leaning back to admire her work before reaching for another makeup brush. “Trust me, you’re going to look amazing. And you’ll thank me when all the attention is on you tonight”.

Claire snorted softly, still looking out the window. “Looks like Dean’s having a rough time out there. He’s been complaining about that bird crap for the past ten minutes”.

You glanced toward the window, feeling a small pang of affection for Dean. Despite everything, there was something endearing about the way he fussed over his car. It was such a Dean thing to do.

“Well, it’s his baby”, you said with a smile, trying to keep the mood light. “Can’t have anything messing with his precious Impala”.

Claire rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. “Yeah, well, he’d better finish up soon if he’s planning on joining us tonight. Don’t want him to miss out on the fun”.

You nodded, your thoughts drifting back to the night ahead. Part of you was nervous, wondering how the evening would go, especially with everything that had been building up between you and Dean. But another part of you was excited—excited to celebrate, to let loose, and maybe even to see where the night would take you.

“Alright, done!”, Alex announced, snapping you back to the present. She stepped back, a satisfied grin on her face as she looked at you. “Go check yourself out in the mirror. I think you’ll like it”.

You stood up and walked over to the mirror, your breath catching slightly as you took in your reflection. Alex had done an incredible job—your makeup was flawless, enhancing your features without being overdone. You looked… beautiful, more so than you had expected. The sight of yourself made you feel more confident, more ready to take on whatever the night had in store.

“Wow”, you murmured, turning back to Alex with a grateful smile. “Thank you, Alex. I love it”.

Alex beamed, clearly pleased with herself. “Told you. Now, let’s get you dressed and ready to party!”.

Claire finally turned away from the window, her own excitement shining through. “Yeah, come on. We’ve got to make sure you’re dressed to kill”.

After a few minutes of final touches and last-minute adjustments, you, Alex, and Claire were finally ready to head downstairs. The energy in the room was electric, with Claire and Alex fussing over every detail, making sure you looked perfect for your big night. Your nerves were still fluttering, but there was a sense of excitement building inside you.

As the three of you made your way down the hallway, you could hear the familiar voices of Jody and Sam drifting up from the bottom of the stairs. They were clearly eager to get the celebration started, and Jody’s voice carried a playful tone of impatience.

“Where the hell are you three?!”, Jody called up, her voice filled with mock frustration. “We’re ready to go down here, and you’re taking forever!”.

Sam’s deep chuckle followed. “Come on, ladies! The night’s not getting any younger!”.

As you reached the top of the stairs, you glanced down to see Jody and Sam standing at the base, both dressed casually but clearly ready to have a good time. Jody had her hands on her hips, her smile wide and teasing as she looked up at you.

But what caught your attention most was Dean, leaning casually against the doorframe of the living room, a bottle of beer in his hand. His usual confident demeanor was on full display, though you noticed the way his eyes lingered on you as you descended the stairs. The sunglasses he had been wearing earlier were gone, revealing the intense green of his gaze that seemed to follow your every move.

For a moment, you felt your breath catch in your throat. The way Dean was looking at you sent a shiver down your spine.

You could see a flicker of something in Dean’s eyes—admiration, perhaps even a hint of surprise—but he masked it quickly with a smirk, taking another sip of his beer as if to play it cool.

“Well”, Dean drawled, his voice smooth, carrying just the right amount of teasing to make you smile. “Look who finally decided to grace us with their presence”.

You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a mix of pride and nervousness at his attention. “I had to make sure I looked good enough for the birthday celebration”, you teased, your tone light.

Dean’s smirk softened into something warmer, something almost affectionate. “You don’t have to try that hard”, he said, his voice a little lower, more sincere. “You already look great”.

The compliment caught you off guard, and you felt your cheeks warm under his gaze. Before you could respond, Jody clapped her hands together, breaking the moment.

“Alright, party people!”, she declared, her voice full of energy. “Let’s get moving before it gets too late. We’ve got a birthday to celebrate!”.

The group began to move toward the door, with Sam and Jody leading the way. Claire and Alex fell into step behind them, chattering excitedly about the night ahead. As you followed, Dean stayed close by your side, his presence a steady comfort amidst the buzz of anticipation.

The cool evening air greeted you as you stepped outside, and the sky was painted in deep shades of twilight. The stars were just beginning to peek through, promising a beautiful night. The lakehouse had a cozy, rustic charm that made it the perfect place for a celebration, and as you all made your way down to the lake, you could feel the excitement building.

As the group made their way around the lake, the soft glow of lanterns strung along the path provided just enough light to guide your steps. The sound of the water gently lapping against the shore added to the serene atmosphere, making the walk feel almost magical. The conversation among your friends was lively, filled with laughter and playful banter, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit distracted, your thoughts constantly drifting back to the way Dean had looked at you earlier.

Dean walked beside you, his usual walk slightly tempered by the five beers he’d already downed throughout the evening. You could tell he was trying to play it cool, but there was a hint of something in his demeanor—something almost vulnerable, though he was doing his best to mask it. His steps were steady, but his gaze occasionally flickered to you, as if he was trying to find the right moment to say something.

The lake bar was just coming into view when Dean finally broke the silence between you. He cleared his throat, and you glanced over at him just in time to see him rub the back of his neck—a telltale sign that he was nervous, or at least a little unsure of himself.

“You look great”, he said, his voice lower than usual, and there was an unmistakable sincerity in his tone that made your heart skip a beat. You could tell he meant it, and the fact that he was flustered only made the compliment feel more genuine.

You smiled at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Thanks, Dean”, you replied softly, your eyes meeting his in the dim light.

Just as you felt the warmth of Dean’s words sink in, the group reached the entrance of the lake bar. The sound of music and chatter spilled out from inside, a lively backdrop to the evening’s celebration. Claire, always quick to spot the best spot in any place, was already waving everyone over to a cozy booth near the back of the bar. The booth was tucked away slightly, offering a bit of privacy while still keeping you in the midst of the action.

“Over here!”, Claire called out, her enthusiasm contagious as she motioned for everyone to join her. The group eagerly followed her lead, sliding into the booth with a mix of excitement and anticipation for the night ahead.

As you and Dean approached the booth, you noticed the slight hesitation in his step, as if he was reluctant to let go of the moment you’d just shared. But with the group now gathering around, the chance for further conversation was quickly slipping away.

You slid into the booth, taking a seat near the end where you had a clear view of the bar and the rest of the room. Dean sat down next to you, his shoulder brushing against yours as he got comfortable. The brief contact sent a shiver down your spine.

Jody and Sam were the last to join, Sam carrying a tray of drinks he had grabbed from the bar on the way over. He set it down with a grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Alright, who’s ready to kick off this birthday celebration?”.

The table erupted in cheers and clinks of glasses as everyone grabbed a drink.

As the glasses clinked together in celebration, Sam leaned in toward you, his grin wide and playful. “Today’s an exception”, he said with a wink, nodding toward the drink in your hand. “You’re not quite 21 yet, but I think we can bend the rules just this once”.

You couldn’t help but laugh at Sam’s playful tone. “You’re such a rebel”, you teased, raising your glass in acknowledgment. The warmth of the alcohol was a welcome addition to the already buzzing atmosphere, and you were grateful for the way everyone had come together to make this night special for you.

Jody raised her glass again, her eyes twinkling as she glanced around the table. “Here’s to bending the rules and making the most of the night. Happy early birthday, (Y/N)!”.

Everyone echoed the toast, and you felt a surge of happiness as you took a sip of your drink. The music from the bar pulsed in the background, a mix of classic rock and upbeat tunes that added to the lively energy of the place. You leaned back against the booth, feeling the pleasant buzz from the alcohol and the warmth of your friends around you.

Dean, sitting beside you, took a long drink from his beer, his eyes glancing over at you every so often. You could sense he was more relaxed now, the tension from earlier having faded into the background as the night unfolded. There was a comfortable closeness between you, the kind that had been growing for a while now, even if neither of you had fully acknowledged it.

After a few rounds of drinks, the conversation at the table became more animated, with laughter and stories flowing freely. Claire and Alex were sharing funny anecdotes from recent hunts, while Sam and Jody added their own tales, making everyone at the table burst into laughter. You felt a deep sense of belonging in that moment, surrounded by people who truly cared about you.

As the night went on, the bar became more crowded, and the music grew louder. Claire and Alex, now tipsy and full of energy, insisted on dragging you onto the dance floor. You protested half-heartedly, but their enthusiasm was infectious, and soon you found yourself in the middle of the crowd, moving to the rhythm of the music.

Dean watched you from the booth, a small smile playing on his lips as he observed you laughing and dancing with the girls. He felt a mix of emotions—pride, protectiveness, and something deeper. The sight of you, so full of life and joy, was both heartwarming and a little bittersweet, knowing that things between you were shifting in ways he couldn’t fully control.

Dean was still nursing his beer, his eyes occasionally drifting from the crowd of dancers back to you as you moved on the dance floor with Claire and Alex. He was trying to keep his emotions in check, but it wasn’t easy. Watching you laugh and dance, seeing how much you’d grown up—it was a lot for him to process.

Just then, Sam slid into the booth next to Dean, a knowing smile on his face. He nudged Dean with his elbow, drawing his brother’s attention away from the dance floor. Jody had gone to grab another round of drinks, leaving the two of them alone at the table for a moment.

“So”, Sam started, his tone light but with a hint of seriousness underneath, “you finally coming to terms with (Y/N) being an adult now?”.

Dean shot his brother a sidelong glance, recognizing the question for what it was. He knew Sam had noticed the shift in his behavior around you, the way he’d been more protective, more cautious, ever since you’d started spending time with Jake. But this was the first time Sam had directly brought it up.

Dean sighed, taking a long sip of his beer before answering. “It’s not easy, man”, he admitted, his voice low enough that only Sam could hear. “I’ve watched her grow up, you know? She’s not a kid anymore, and I get that, but… it’s hard to see her differently”.

Sam nodded, his expression understanding. “Yeah, I get it. It’s tough letting go of the way you’ve always seen someone, especially when you’ve been like a big brother to her”.

Dean nodded, but the truth was, it wasn’t just that. It wasn’t just about being a big brother, or the protective instinct that had always driven him to keep you safe. It was something more.

“Do you think she’s ready?”, Dean asked, glancing back at Sam. “For all of it—being on her own, making her own choices?”.

Sam smiled slightly. “She’s tougher than you think, Dean. And yeah, I think she’s ready. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t still need you. Just… maybe in a different way now”.

Dean sighed again, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. I know. It’s just… I want her to be happy, but I also want to make sure she’s safe. It’s hard to balance that”.

Sam gave his brother a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You’ve always been there for her, Dean. And she knows that. Just keep being there for her, in whatever way she needs. That’s all you can do”.

Dean nodded, his eyes drifting back to you as you continued to dance, your laughter echoing across the bar. “Yeah”, he murmured, more to himself than to Sam. “I guess you’re right”.

Sam watched his brother for a moment longer, sensing the conflict still brewing within him, but deciding not to push further. He knew Dean would come to terms with it in his own time, in his own way. For now, it was enough that Dean was acknowledging the change, even if he wasn’t fully ready to accept it.

Jody returned to the table with another round of drinks, her timing impeccable as always. She handed Dean a fresh beer and gave Sam a curious look, clearly sensing the seriousness of their conversation.

“Everything okay over here?”, she asked, raising an eyebrow as she slid back into the booth.

Dean forced a smile, accepting the beer with a nod. “Yeah, just talking about how much trouble we’re all gonna be in if (Y/N) keeps drinking like that”, he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Jody chuckled, her gaze drifting to you on the dance floor. “She’s having a good time. That’s what tonight’s about, right?”.

Dean’s smile softened as he watched you laugh and dance with your friends. “Yeah”, he agreed, lifting his beer in a quiet toast. “That’s what it’s all about”.

As the clock struck midnight, everyone in the bar raised their glasses in a boisterous toast to you. The atmosphere was electric with laughter, cheers, and the clinking of glasses. Dean was especially laid-back, the alcohol loosening him up as he joined in the celebration with a genuine smile. The weight of the past few weeks seemed to lift off his shoulders, if only temporarily. Despite the attention from a few women who seemed interested in him throughout the night, Dean politely declined their advances, his focus remaining on the celebration and, more subtly, on you.

The night continued with more drinks, more dancing, and more laughter. But around 1 AM, you decided to step away for a moment and head to the bathroom. The bar was still buzzing with energy, but you needed a brief break from the noise and excitement. As you reached for your phone to check the time, you noticed a notification from Jake. Smiling to yourself, you assumed he was wishing you a happy birthday. But as you opened the message, the smile quickly faded.

Jake’s message wasn’t what you had expected. Instead of birthday wishes, it was a carefully worded explanation that he had gotten back together with his ex-girlfriend. He was gentle in his words, expressing his apologies and hoping you could understand. But no matter how softly he tried to put it, the news hit you hard. The excitement and joy of the night evaporated in an instant, replaced by a hollow ache in your chest.

You stood there in the bathroom, staring at the message as the reality of it sank in. You had liked Jake, had started to imagine what could have been, and now it was over before it had even really begun. The rejection, even though it was handled kindly, still hurt. It made you feel foolish for getting your hopes up, for thinking that maybe this time, things could work out.

Suddenly, the thought of going back to the party, of pretending to be happy and carefree, felt impossible. The celebration that had seemed so fun just moments ago now felt overwhelming and hollow. You didn’t want to go back out there with this weight in your heart, didn’t want to face everyone with this new pain fresh in your mind.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the tears that had been threatening to fall finally broke through. You quickly wiped them away, not wanting to smudge your makeup or let anyone see how upset you were. But no matter how hard you tried to push it down, the sadness lingered.

After a few moments of trying to collect yourself, you knew you couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever. But the idea of going back out there, of pretending everything was fine, was too much. You needed space, needed to be alone for a little while to process what had just happened.

As you made your way back outside, the alcohol still buzzed in your system, but it did little to dull the sharp sting of Jake’s message. The noise and energy of the bar seemed distant, like you were moving through a fog. All you could think about was getting out of there, away from the crowd, and finding some place quiet where you could process what had just happened.

Dean had been keeping an eye on you throughout the night, more out of habit than anything else. But the moment you reappeared, he could tell something was wrong. Even from across the room, he noticed the way your shoulders slumped, the tightness in your smile that didn’t reach your eyes. The easygoing, celebratory mood he’d been in vanished instantly, replaced by a familiar concern.

He got up from his seat without hesitation, weaving through the crowd until he reached you. The closer he got, the more certain he became that something was off. He thought maybe the alcohol had hit you too hard or that you were feeling sick.

“Hey”, he said gently, his hand resting on your arm as he looked into your eyes, searching for answers. “You alright? You don’t look so good. Do you need some fresh air, or…?”.

You forced a tight smile, trying to hold it together. “I’m just tired”, you replied, your voice not quite steady. “I think I want to go home, but the rest of you should stay here and have fun”.

Dean frowned, not convinced. He knew you better than that. There was more going on—he could see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice—but he also knew better than to push you when you weren’t ready to talk. He nodded, understanding that you needed to get out of there, even if you weren’t ready to explain why.

“Alright”, he said softly. “I’ll walk you back. Let’s get you home”.

You started to protest, telling him that he didn’t need to leave the party, that he should stay and enjoy himself. But Dean shook his head, his decision already made. “No way I’m letting you walk back alone. Besides, I’m ready to call it a night too”.

He guided you back to the booth where the others were still laughing and talking, their attention focused on each other and not noticing the shift in your mood. Dean gave them a quick nod, signaling that he was taking you home.

“I’m gonna bring her back to the lake house”, Dean said, his tone casual but firm. “You guys stay and have fun. We’ll catch up with you later”.

Jody looked over, noticing the change in your demeanor, but she didn’t ask any questions. She trusted Dean to take care of you. Sam raised his glass in a small salute, and Claire and Alex gave you encouraging smiles, wishing you a good night.

You appreciated their understanding, but all you wanted was to be out of the bar, away from the noise and the reminders of what had just happened.

Dean kept a steady hand on your back as the two of you made your way out of the bar and into the cool night air. The walk back to the lake house was quiet, the only sound the soft crunch of gravel underfoot. Dean didn’t say anything, didn’t push you to talk, but his presence was a comfort, a steady anchor as you tried to keep your emotions in check.

When you reached the house, Dean unlocked the door and led you inside. The warmth of the house wrapped around you, a stark contrast to the chill that had settled in your chest. You were grateful for the silence, for the space to breathe without the weight of the party pressing down on you.

“Do you want to talk about it?”, Dean finally asked, his voice low.

You shook your head at Dean’s question, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. Instead, you slipped out of your shoes and made a beeline for the kitchen, where you knew Dean’s stash of whiskey was kept on the counter. The alcohol you’d already had was making you feel a little unsteady, but you were still too sober for the flood of emotions that were threatening to overwhelm you. You needed something stronger to dull the ache in your chest, something to push away the thoughts of Jake and what could have been.

But just as your fingers wrapped around the neck of the whiskey bottle, Dean was there. He had followed you, his concern growing with every step, and when he saw what you were about to do, he quickly snatched the bottle from your hand.

“No fucking way”, he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with a mix of worry and determination. “You’re already tipsy, and this isn’t the way to handle whatever’s going on”.

You glared at him, your emotions bubbling over. “Dean, come on. Just one drink. Join me. It’s my birthday, and I just… I just need this right now”.

Dean softened slightly at your words but didn’t relent. He could see how much you were hurting, and the last thing he wanted was for you to drown your pain in alcohol. He knew how that path could go, and he wasn’t about to let you spiral down it.

He shook his head again, more gently this time. “You don’t need this, (Y/N). Not like this. Let’s talk, or if you don’t want to talk, let’s just… be here, okay? But no more drinking tonight”.

You could feel the tears welling up again, the mix of frustration, sadness, and the tenderness in Dean’s voice almost too much to bear. “I don’t want to talk about it”, you whispered, your voice cracking slightly.

Dean set the bottle down on the counter, stepping closer to you. He reached out, his hands resting on your shoulders, grounding you in the moment. “Alright”, he said quietly, his voice soothing. “Then we won’t talk about it. But I’m not letting you do this alone. Let’s go sit down, okay?”.

You wanted to argue, to push him away, but the warmth of his hands on your shoulders and the quiet strength in his voice made it impossible. You nodded, letting out a shaky breath as he guided you to the living room.

Dean sat down next to you on the couch, close but not crowding you, offering silent support. The house was quiet, the only sound the faint rustling of leaves outside, and the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but rather a space where you could both exist without the need for words.

You leaned back against the couch, closing your eyes and letting the exhaustion of the day and the emotions of the night wash over you. Dean remained by your side, a steady presence that gave you comfort even when your thoughts were stormy.

Minutes passed, the two of you sitting there in silence, and slowly, you began to feel a little more at ease.

As you leaned back against the couch, the weight of the night seemed to press down on you all at once. The quiet of the house, combined with the steady warmth of Dean’s presence beside you, started to lull you into a sense of calm you hadn’t felt all night. Your eyes fluttered shut, and for a moment, you just focused on the sound of Dean’s breathing next to you, the rhythm of it steady and reassuring.

Dean watched you, his concern deepening as he saw the exhaustion etched into your features. He could tell you were fighting to stay awake, to hold onto whatever it was that was eating at you, but he also knew that you were reaching your limit. He didn’t say anything, didn’t push for you to talk, just remained close, offering the comfort of his presence.

As the minutes passed, the tension in your body began to ease, your breathing slowing as you finally allowed yourself to relax. Before you even realized it, the exhaustion won out, and you drifted off to sleep right there on the couch.

Dean noticed the exact moment you fell asleep—the way your body went completely slack, your breathing deepening into the slow, steady rhythm of sleep. He stayed still, not wanting to disturb you, but his eyes remained on your face, softening as he watched the tension slowly melt away from your features.

For a long while, he simply sat there, listening to the quiet of the house and the sound of your breathing.

Dean had sat beside you for what felt like hours, content to watch over you as you slept. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but as the night grew deeper, he knew he couldn’t let you sleep on the couch all night.

With a soft sigh, Dean carefully shifted, trying not to wake you as he stood up. He hesitated for a moment, then bent down and gently cradled you in his arms, lifting you with surprising ease. Your head rested against his chest, and he could feel the soft, even rhythm of your breathing against him. Despite everything, a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he looked down at your sleeping face.

“Fucking lightweight”, he mumbled under his breath, a mix of affection and exasperation in his tone. But there was no real annoyance there.

He carried you upstairs with a careful, steady stride, trying his best not to jostle you awake. But as he reached your room and laid you down gently on the bed, your eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep. Your hand instinctively reached out, grabbing his wrist, your grip surprisingly firm for someone who had been so deeply asleep just moments before.

“Stay”, you murmured, your voice barely more than a whisper, thick with sleep and emotion. Your eyes were wide and glassy, filled with a vulnerability that made Dean’s heart clench. The look in your eyes, the way you were holding onto him, was almost too much to bear.

Dean grimaced, knowing that this was a bad idea—a very bad idea. Every instinct he had was screaming at him to step back, to leave you to sleep on your own and let the night end here. But the way you were looking at him, the soft plea in your voice, made it nearly impossible for him to pull away. He knew you were hurting, and the last thing he wanted was to make it worse by leaving you alone.

“(Y/N)…”, he began, his voice low and conflicted, trying to find the right words. “I don’t think—”.

But before he could finish, your eyes filled with tears, the glassiness deepening into something more desperate. The sight of you like this, so vulnerable and pleading, shattered what little resolve he had left.

“Please”, you whispered, your voice breaking slightly. “Just for a little while”.

Dean cursed under his breath, feeling his defenses crumbling. He knew this was a bad idea—knew that staying would only blur the lines between you even more, making everything more complicated. But he couldn’t bring himself to walk away, not when you needed him like this.

“Alright", he finally conceded, his voice barely more than a gruff whisper. “Just for a little while”.

You nodded, relief flooding your features as you loosened your grip on his wrist, allowing him to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. He stayed there for a moment, just watching you as you curled up under the covers, your eyes already beginning to drift shut again.

Dean hesitated, then slowly kicked off his boots and moved to lie down beside you, keeping a careful distance between you. He was hyper-aware of the space between you, the way your presence seemed to fill the entire room, but he forced himself to relax, to focus on just being there for you.

You shifted closer to him, seeking out his warmth, and for a moment, Dean froze, unsure of what to do. But then you nestled your head against his shoulder, your hand resting lightly on his chest, and he felt the tension in his body start to ease, just a little.

“Thank you”, you mumbled.

Dean didn’t reply, couldn’t trust his voice to come out steady. Instead, he just wrapped an arm around you, holding you close.

As you nestled closer to Dean, your initial exhaustion started to ebb away, replaced by a growing awareness of the situation. The warmth of his arm around you, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your hand—it all felt so comforting, yet it also sent your heart into overdrive. The closeness, the intimacy of the moment, was something you hadn’t fully anticipated, and now, with Dean’s presence so tangible beside you, sleep seemed like a distant possibility.

Your mind was racing, despite the physical fatigue that still lingered. Every breath you took seemed to sync with his. It was almost overwhelming, the way your senses were suddenly heightened, every touch and sound magnified in the quiet darkness of the room.

Dean, on the other hand, was trying his best to remain still, to keep his breathing even and not give away the turmoil in his own mind. He could feel your heartbeat quicken against his chest, and it took everything in him not to react, not to let on just how much this moment was affecting him. He wanted to be strong for you, to be the rock you needed, but the way you were clinging to him, the way your body molded so perfectly to his, made it incredibly difficult to keep his emotions in check.

He knew he should move, should put some distance between you before things got even more complicated. But every time he considered it, you seemed to press closer, and his resolve would falter. There was something about the way you were holding onto him, the way you seemed to need him in that moment, that made it impossible for him to pull away.

You shifted slightly, your hand sliding up just a bit, and Dean could feel the heat of your palm through the thin material of his shirt. The contact sent a shiver down his spine, a mix of desire and guilt swirling in his chest. He cursed himself silently, knowing this was dangerous territory, but he couldn’t bring himself to break the connection.

“Dean…”, you whispered, your voice barely audible in the quiet room. You weren’t even sure what you wanted to say, but his name seemed to slip out on its own, a soft plea that hung in the air between you.

Dean’s breath hitched slightly, and he tightened his arm around you, pulling you just a fraction closer. “I’m here”, he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m not going anywhere”.

Your heart raced even faster at his words, the reassurance both comforting and overwhelming. The night had taken a toll on you, emotionally and physically, but now, with Dean so close, with his voice so full of unspoken promises, you felt a confusing mix of emotions bubbling to the surface—gratitude, affection.

The room was quiet, the only sound the soft rustle of the sheets as you shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position. But no matter how you moved, the awareness of Dean’s presence was impossible to ignore, and the thought of sleep felt more and more distant.

The seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity, the silence in the room thick with the unspoken tension between you and Dean. You could feel his arm still holding you close, the weight of his presence both comforting and overwhelming at the same time. Your heart continued to race, your thoughts a whirlwind of emotions that you couldn’t quite keep in check.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 9

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @ladykitana90 @fullbelieverheart @chainsawsangel @zaratahir @rebecca-hvnstn @maackiimoo @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @lachelledavies-winchester @kamisobsessed @kr804573 @c1gs-coffee @fyegyall

#jensen ackles #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #dean x female!reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #spn #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #taking her in

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bloodyinkandquill · 3 months ago

Text

Folly x Reader

grapes are here!! time to munch, also new merch for something i love me and my best friend are going to get each other it as Christmas gifts! we did the same last year for something else we both love, still one of my favorite shirts i have

- How the hell you managed to bag a nine and a half foot tall primordial being is a mystery to everyone, even you in all honesty

- Folly is interesting to say the least, at first she treated you no different then anyone else but as time went on and she begun to take more of an interest in you, and finding that your kindness towards her was genuine, not any sort of trick, slowly she became less cold and malevolent towards you, eventually it got to a point where if you were having a nightmare she’d use her powers to stop it

- Eventually when you do get together, how official it was is up to debate, she still acts the same bit has a certain kindness to her voice, her insults and hate aren’t actually real, she’s just scared to truly let her guard down around anyone, no matter how much she’s beginning to trust you now, you understand and are very patient with her letting her say bad things since you know she doesn’t truly mean them

- Since she’s so large she picks you up like a plushie or teddy bear, it would be funny if you weren’t squirming as she smirked, we’ll you’re assuming she’s smirking, she doesn’t have a mouth so based on her eyes you assume if she could smirk she would be smirking

- Speaking of her lack of mouth she can’t exactly kiss you, she was very against the idea of you kissing her mask at first, it is one of the most vulnerable parts of her, eventually when she grants you permission you cover her entire mask in kisses, you don’t kiss where it broke though for both of you, she gets very flustered by it and disappears in her cloud of smoke, now though she’s more chill with it, it still does fluster his but if you ask if you can kiss her she lets you, and leans down, or stands next to something you can stand in to reach her face without her having to hunch down more then she already done normally

- On top of holding you like a stuffed animal she doesn’t really do small touches, her touches are go big or go home, holding you mostly, especially since her hands are so large small touches are harder, whenever you try and hold hands you just hold one of her fingers instead, or grab the edge of her sweater sleeve, which like her mask she was hesitant about but less so since it wasn’t broken like her mask

- If Folly can’t be around you she watches you through the aspens, it was really creepy at first since you felt like you were being watched then you realized it was her so you when alone will hug the trees as if hugging her to say thanks for watching over you, it doesn’t get less creepy watching the fake pupils on the trees move to follow you though, you will never get used to that

- Her dates aren’t conventional, they still happen but they’re not the usual dates people think of, some are close but not quite, like tending to a garden, granted it’s a forest of aspens in the dark expanse of where she comes from but it’s close enough, or a sleep over, which just means you fall asleep on her and you do something in your dream together, another is baking, that happens at your place which she doesn’t fit in that well and she can’t eat anything you bake but it’s still nice, she helps you bake and gets stuff on herself that you wipe off with a laugh

- She sometimes tells you of how her home use to look like, beautiful and comforting, it was like a dream, till it became a nightmare, you tell her that even if everything’s changed you love her no matter what she’s gone through, and no matter what she still may go through

- You occasionally visit Wallter with her, he’s the closest thing to a friend she has but she almost always sees him in his dreams, so they don’t usually see each other in person, when they do she does her usual thing of being all edgy and brooding but while discussing poetry and listening to piano music, and pretending to drink tea, she lets you actually drink it she just likes to pretend

- Her love language is closest to quality time, granted most of that time is in your dreams, but based on how often she visits them just to be close to you and spend time with you, so your best assumption is quality time

- She knows many languages, comes from being a primordial being, so if you want to speak in another language or need help learning or translating one she can assist you, her favorite language however is any of the slavic languages, which is why she has a Russian accent, so she enjoys teaching you words in Russian, Ukrainian, Polish, etc

- She makes you read her poetry, you don’t get a choice, you don’t mind but it can be inconvenient sometimes if you’re doing something and suddenly she appears telling you to read the newest poem she wrote, she’s really good at it though so it’s not too much of a bother since it’s an enjoyable read, to some degree, it’s very graphic and disturbing on occasion, or a lot of occasions

- She’s cold to the touch, after the cleaving her body no longer produces natural heat, which is a part of the reason she’s such a big cuddle bug, you’re warm and she quite literally parasites that warmth from you, she’s the kind of person to stick her cold ass hands on your exposed back when you aren’t expecting it making you shout at the sudden freezing touch

- Folly thought she’d never be happy again, she was broken, destroyed, used, abused, she never thought she’d ever feel like how she once did, which maybe she never will, but she has truly started feeling better since meeting you, maybe not truly happy but you do make her feel warm, literally and figuratively, so even if she knows she can never go back to that innocence and joy that once was her entire life she’s getting there

i love folly, not as much as mach but i still love her, and holy shit the cleaving was insane, also literally such a good depiction of a certain type of trauma, iykyk, which props to catjam, also just in general for creating folly, anyways imma probably nap, i am not immune to the afternoon naps

#x reader #regretevator #regretevator x reader #folly #regretevator folly #folly x reader #folly regretevator #folly x reader regretevator #regretevator folly x reader

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galaxy-fleur · 3 months ago

Note

re: Leon's longtime friend

How would his first time with them be like? if they're in the same branch of work and have worked out their feelings and all that :)

So, I kinda answered both of these with just a single post, hope it's ok! Pretty much just general thoughts here. Written with Remake-verse Leon in mind <3

When it comes to sex, honestly.... I feel like he's pretty basic with his partner, unless they suggest to try out something new to him themselves, in which case he's totally down for it. That's not at all a bad thing though, basic positions are known as basic for a reason, and that's because they feel good! I kind of feel like he'll want to be able see his partner's eyes during intercourse, so he tends to prefer something like missionary (a classic, but for good reason!), or holding his partner up against the wall if we're talking more spontaneous quickie. At least there's something good to come out of his grueling training, y'know. He's definitely the type to either rest his forehead against yours or make-out with you in the middle of fucking.

And while I actually don't think he's big on dirty talk, I do think he's actually pretty communicative with his partner. He's a bit blunt about it, but it's a good kind of blunt. Especially when your brain is all fuzzy and woozy with hormones.

Something like: 'Does this feel good?', 'You wanna switch?', 'Faster, yeah?'

He's easy to communicate with, and that makes for a really comfortable experience.

He sucks at actual dirty talk though. Please don't ask him to do that; he'll either make you laugh out loud when you two are getting rowdy and then feel horribly embarrassed about the whole ordeal, or he'll die of embarrassment attempting to mimic some awful porn dialogue he's seen beforehand. That's not to say he can't learn! You'll just have to guide him in that department. It's sweet of him to try. He'll get there with some practice. He certainly won't mind some dirty talk on your end, however. Perhaps you could teach him the basics.

And while he may not be good at dirty talk, he doesn't even need it more often than not.

When he's being genuine instead of trying to play up some role, it's hot as hell. Lots of small praises and occasional swears along with situational comments. He's also very good at giving directions and commands. Has the perfect intonation for it, too. Very curt with his words, but it honestly just makes it hotter in the heat of the moment.

Something like: 'Eyes up.' 'Lift your leg.' 'Lay back.'

Massive cowgirl lover, with his partner facing him. He folds every time his partner is the one in charge, and he wants to be able to look at them and grope at them the entire time they're doing their thing. Again, probably lots of soft praises sprinkled in here and there. And yes, that includes 'good girl/boy'. Also gets kind of whiney during cowgirl specifically. Something about just sitting back and letting go of control for a while just makes him fall apart in the best way possible. He loves it when his brain gets blissfully empty, with nothing but the other's touch being there to fill it.

I'd say another one of his favorites is sideways missionary during lazy mornings and after his assignments. When he's feeling especially tired but craves to experience that feeling of intimacy regardless. This one is reserved for lazy sex with feelings, so he gets especially soft with this one. Peppering light kisses all over and whispering sweet nothings in that raspy, drowsy voice of his. It's special in its own wonderful way.

This probably goes without saying, but Leon's a massive oral enjoyer. Primarily on the giving end, whether it's eating pussy or sucking dick. Once more, he would rather stare at his partner all the while, hence positions that allow him to do so are preferred. He gets off on his partner feeling good, so you can very well expect him to give you his all each and every time. And with him being a naturally perceptive person, it won't take him long to figure out what makes you tick the most. I'd say that... most times he has sex will include him giving oral in it. It's kinda cute, because he will get all huffy about it if you are in a hurry, and he can't enjoy himself too much.

While he does prefer giving oral, he's more than happy to be on the receiving end, too. Like I said before, being given the opportunity to just let go and not think about anything is something he definitely craves. What better way to do that than have his partner suck him off? Again, gets all whiney and breathless with it. Regardless of the taste of his own cum on your lips, he always gives you a deep thank-you kiss afterward.

On that note, he's also pretty gross. Not in a weird way or anything, but he is utterly unfazed by getting any bodily fluids on him or inside him. He'll probably just shrug and say that it's way better than sewage water or bioweapon gunk. It's hard to argue with that. And it's hot, in a way. Him being so unperturbed by leaking up whatever mess you've made. Still best to brush your teeth and take a shower afterwards, though.

And while all of this is pretty basic, it stands true that he's willing to try anything with his partner if they're a bit more adventurous and experimental. It's more about him just not knowing most of the stuff than his unwillingness to try. However, I do believe that the idea of very rough sex would lead to some problems with him. And that's something that only really happens with his s/o. He has no issue fucking a one-night stand into the mattress to get his frustrations out, knowing they're enjoying it, but if he has feelings for that person, he'll kinda feel bad about it if he gets too in the moment and misuses his strength on them. It's not impossible by any means, but he'll have to be eased into it a bit. The last thing he wants is to hurt the one person he strives to protects the most. It's a difficult dichotomy for him to overcome. But with care and effective communication, anything is possible!

I also don't think he would enjoy getting choked. For obvious reasons.

His sex life is honestly very different depending on who he's having sex with. For example, I'd say he's actually a huge doggy style enjoyer with casual hookups, but with his partner, he'll automatically prefer something that will let him look them in the face directly. Both feel good in different ways.

In terms of his style of fucking and how loud or quiet he is, I don't see him moaning in a pornographic way or anything, but he's also not completely silent. Although I do think he actually made that mistake early on in his life because he had this popular misconception that men being vocal during sex is somehow weird. So he was stiff as hell and trying to stay quiet with his first couple of partners. It's why I think that his first couple of times sucked ass for both parties involved.

He doesn't figure it out until he has a partner who goes all: 'hold the fuck up, why are you stiff as a wooden pole and trying to be quiet?? I wanna hear you feel good?'

And he goes: '....wait, you do?'

I'll just say that rookie Leon experienced his fair share of learning curves.

Once more, I believe it all depends on the type of sex he is having and with whom. Your typical, everyday fucking session? Rough pants waffling over your ear, occasional grunts and groans when he feels real good. The deep, rumbly ones that emanate directly from the middle of his chest. These noises are hot as hell, especially when he is pressed up flush against you, and you can literally feel the vibrations. Will probably either gasp or let out a choked groan when he cums, but it'll be muffled. Either by kissing his partner or by pressing his face against their shoulder.

He's noticeably more vocal when it's an emotionally charged intimacy, especially if he's pent-up with emotions. If he wants this person, for more than their body and fun personality, everything just feels that much more intense. (on that note, I do think his hookups are chosen on more than just him finding someone hot physically, he actually has to enjoy their company to wanna stick his dick into them, and he does care about his casual partners too. He's not just having sex without caring for the needs of the one he's having sex with.) More than anything, Leon wants to feel wanted, and while he's fine with someone just wanting his body and status - hell, he even seeks out that sort of physical comfort - being touched by and being wanted like that by someone who he has an emotional attachment to? Oh, he's in a completely different headspace here. Lots of breath hitches and an occasional muffled 'mmh' noises from him during foreplay. That's because he'll find himself attempting to hold back a little.

Shaky breaths and moans poured into the kisses. If he's the one giving oral, will full out whine and growl against you because you feeling good because of him just turns him on that much. Actually moans out and gets a bit chatty if he's the one getting head. He'll sorta hold back at first, but will have his head thrown back and prolonged moans and groans leaving his lips soon after. Along with a strings of: 'fuck, just like that', or 'you feel so fucking good', or, if you find a particularly weak spot of his, a sharp gasp followed by 'oh God!' And your name sprinkled in there, too.

When it comes to actual intercourse, once again: sharp pants and an occasional rumbly groan. But this time he'll probably either be looking into your eyes or having your foreheads touching, so every noise is kinda that much more intense with that. He'll also kiss... a lot, and will straight up moan out into these kisses. In a somewhat higher pitch as well. Will probably chant your name before cumming. Which sounds hot as hell and probably have you get close just by hearing that. Once more, will most likely cum while kissing you.

Leon's pretty big on communicating through touch, though he is probably more subtle about it than his OG counterpart would be. I genuinely think he's way more obvious about him wanting to fuck than he thinks he is, once you figure him out. Will keep staring at you like a cat almost without as much as blinking. (Which is... a bit creepy, but don't tell him that bc he'll get self-conscious about it ☹). Will persist in attempting to touch you in some way, whether it's fumbling with the belt loop of your jeans or keeping a hand on your lower back wherever you go, for no apparent reason. Overall just acting real clingy.

As you're cooking, he might approach you to wrap his arms around your waist and plant feather-light kisses from your jawline down the side of your neck, which would eventually grow into hot, open-mouthed kisses. Or him putting a hand on your thigh as you're seating on the couch (or maybe at a meeting if we're feeling extra frisky here) and kneading at it gently before tilting his head to press a kiss to your lips that, too, turns more heated once it starts. Sometimes, though, he will just be honest about it. Like when you're making out in the kitchen and he just pulls back and says: '...Bedroom'.

Leon's also great at aftercare. A bit too great sometimes, because he tends to focus solely on you, so make sure to pamper him, too! Will have you all nice and cleaned up with you not having to lift a finger. Even with a snack offered to you as a bonus. His favorite is taking a bath together, if you're feeling up to it, though. Something about the soft intimacy of it just makes his heart feel warm.

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #a gentle reminder that these are just personal headcanons!#just bc i'm kinda anxious of setting this one free into the wild lmao

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