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teliphone · 2 months ago

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Tickles, Doesn't it?

Summary: You get partnered with Rio Vidal to work on the newest case. You can't understand her and it feels like she doesn't like you. In a short amount of time, you feel like you've impressed her and she finds you interesting to mess with.

Warning(s): Smut, Death (not you), Blood, Overstimulation, Fingering, Oral, Sub!FemReader

Word Count: 5.6k

Rio Vidal slowly walks over with one hand in her black pants. Her other hand holds onto the new case files. She stops in front of your desk and drops the heavy file before you. You flinch back a little before looking up. Her face is stern as she crosses her arms across her chest. This move causes her chest to peek out from her slightly unbuttoned white dress shirt. She raises her eyebrows.

“These are the new documents on the case the chief assigned you. This will be the first time you’re partners with me. Don't screw things up for me, alright?” She warns. You bite your tongue from speaking back. You never understood why she has always been so cold to you. You were no longer a rookie in the department nor did you slack at your job.

Your eyes lower from her face to the file. Your fingers touch the edges of the papers. Before you could flip the page, you see a shadow cast over the paper. You tilt your head up to see her body towering above you. Her hands firmly grab the edge of the desk. She leans her head down to stare deep into your eyes. You nervously gulp from the closeness. You can see her black bra peeking above her open shirt.

“You’re not going to respond to me?” She asks slowly. Your breathing halts a little. You nervously glance around her face, taking this opportunity to take in her features. Her eyes are brown with a slight hint of dark eye circles underneath. Her eyeliner and mascara are on the darker side. Her lip color is red matte. She is irritatingly attractive. You didn’t know you could be attracted to an older woman til you set eyes on her.

“About what?” You question. Her tongue sticks out against the inside skin of her mouth in frustration. She narrows her eyes at you one last time before pushing herself off the table. She tugs her black suit to straighten herself.

“I’ll be in my office if you have any questions,” She moves on. She doesn’t wait for you to respond and starts walking away. You watch her slightly swing her hips with each step. You let out a soft groan once she’s out of view. You stare back down at the stacks of papers. It is going to take a while to catch up on this case.

There is a meeting with some officers at the station. You were fortunate to be sitting alongside the other top detectives and chiefs… which includes Rio Vidal. You nervously bit your bottom lip as you stare at her. She sits across the table with an emotionless expression. She slumps back into the seat. Her fingertips playfully drum against the seat handle. Her eyes examine the area til she lands on you. You snap your head away and self cautiously straighten your back. You sneak a peek at her again to confirm she’s still staring at you. The corner of her lips curve into a smile and you feel your heart hammer against your chest. You could not understand what her facial expression meant. The meeting continues as usual, except for the fact you keep making eye contact with her. You force yourself to stop looking over and glued your attention to the chief. Rio Vidal notices your behavior change and brings the back of her hand to cover her lips. She sucks in a deep breath and gently releases. Once the meeting ends you quickly dart towards the door. You rush to your seat to avoid any conversations. You pick up a highlighter and start circling important details on your case paper. A shadow casts over the papers again and you grip the highlighter.

“What do you want?” You sigh as you look up at the culprit. Rio Vidal smiles widely as she dares to lean closer to your face. Her scent becomes stronger.

“Put on your jacket,” She orders. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“Wait why…” You drift off as she starts to walk away. You sigh in frustration but don’t waste time to follow orders. You toss the highlighter aimlessly on your desk and get up from your seat. You swing your trench coat on and stumble on your footing to catch up with her. She walks out of the police station and stares at the sunset. She can feel the cold wind creeping against her exposed skin. She hears your footsteps behind her and starts walking to her car.

“Where are we going?” You call out.

“Crime scene,” She blankly states. You widen your eyes in realization. This will be the first search with her. You open the passenger side and quietly sit. You watch her turn on the engine and shift the gear to reverse. Suddenly she places a hand behind the head of your seat and you stiffen. She turns her body to look behind her car as she reverses. You awkwardly stare at the window to limit yourself from gawking at her. She sneaks a glimpse at your figure and watches how your throat lumps with each shallow. She returns her hands to the stirring wheel. The whole car ride was silent. There was not much to talk about. Rio Vidal keeps to herself and you have a suspicion that she dislikes you. As you stare at the window you notice the sky getting dark. A few minutes later you see raindrops roll down on the window. You clench the jacket closer to your body. In your head, you thank her for telling you to wear a jacket. About twenty minutes later you see her pull up to a street. She gets out of the car without a word and you follow behind.

The flashing lights of red and blue reflect off the wet cement walls beside you as you walk closer to the crime scene. You glance to your right and see other police officers blocking curious pedestrians from entering to take a peek. Returning your face to the front, you note how dark and cold the atmosphere is. You let out a small smile.

“Of course… How classic it is for someone to kill someone in this type of weather,” You whisper to yourself. Rio Vidal quickly glances at you with an unreadable look before she walks away. You step under the crime scene tape while holding onto your long jacket. Once away from the larger public view, you can see the scene more clearly. You walk closer til in front of you lay a woman so perfectly in the middle. Almost as if someone placed her there to get attention. Her body is stiff and gray. Her clothes were dirty, but still fully on her. You lean down to stare at her face. Her black hair is neatly brushed and her bangs are tucked behind her ears. You stare at her face and notice a shade of red lipstick on her. Following her features up, you fix your eyes on the dried run-down mascara on her cheeks. With closer inspection, you could tell someone tried cleaning the mascara off. Her dull yet shocked eyes stare behind you. Suddenly a wave of chills runs down your body. You are used to looking at dead bodies due to the number of crime scenes you have investigated, but this one feels different… it’s almost as if someone prepared this like a presentation. You feel a pressure on your hip which causes you to jerk in fright. Rio Vidal has just returned from receiving information from other officers. She has a sick smile on her face, proud that she has successfully frightened you. She returns her slender fingers to her side. She tilts her head to glance at the dead body next to you. You hear her let out a soft hum. You bite your bottom lip, deep in thought. Something about how the dead body is laid out does not feel right.

“What is it?” She asks. You jerk your face up to see her staring at you. You tilt your head to the side to look at the ground. You feel a gush of wind blow.

“Doesn’t this case feel a little different to you?” You ask. She turns her body slightly so that her attention can be fully on you. She stares at you with an unexplainable look. You nervously rub your fingers. You have never told her this before, but you look up to her. You feel like you need to impress her. You hope this paranoid mind of yours doesn’t throw her off.

“How so?” She asks. You nick your nail against your skin. You suck in a deep breath. You can feel her waiting for you to explain yourself. You gather your thoughts to make sure you don’t sound too insane.

“When I looked at the body I couldn’t help but notice that… someone presented her beautifully,” You nervously explain. You gulp at yourself for saying the word beautiful. Why did you credit the murder? You glance up to see her face is emotionless. She probably thinks you’re insane for saying that.

“W-what I mean is that I noticed her hair was neatly brushed. She also had red lipstick on her. It wasn’t smeared or anything as if the murderer placed it on her after she died. They wanted her to look presentable and that is what I don’t understand,” You finish your thoughts. You blush in embarrassment. You didn’t mean to ramble. You hear her softly giggle and you snap your neck at her. Her brown eyes have a tint of glee.

“I’m glad you noticed,” She whispers. You blink in confusion.

“What?” You blurt. She leans back and lets out a throaty chuckle.

“I noticed it too,” She explains. Your shoulders drop in a sigh. You think you have scored a point on her non-existent board. She gives you a gentle pat on the shoulders. The first time she has ever touched you. She keeps her hand lingering on your shoulder for a little bit before sliding her hand away.

“Good job analyzing. Keep taking notes. I’ll discuss a few more questions with the police and we’ll discuss them later,” She explains before walking off. You let out a shaky breath. Joy boosts in your veins from receiving a compliment from her. Not wanting to waste more time, you pull out your small notepad and start jotting down notes as ordered.

“Where do you live? We can discuss it there,” Rio Vidal suggests as she starts the engine. She takes out her phone and presses onto the GPS app. You silently type in your address without questioning. She smiles in satisfaction and shifts the gear to drive. You play with your fingers to entertain yourself in the silence. The car ride to your house was faster than you expected. She shuts the engine off and waits for you to make the first move. You unbuckle your seat belt and open the car door to get out. She copies and stares at your house for a moment. Her head tilts a little as she analyzes each detail. You find her staring at your window a little longer.

“Nice place,” She compliments as she walks towards you. You take out your keys to unlock the front door. You can feel her presence close behind you and you feel goosebumps suddenly rise on your arms. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You lift your arm to your eyes to examine the hairs sticking up.

“...Are we just going to stand out here?” She speaks up with a dry chuckle. You jerk your arm down with an embarrassing blush appearing on your cheeks. You push the front door open and flick on the light switch. You place your jacket on the coat racket and hurry to clean the living room area. You weren’t expecting guests. She silently watches you gather all the paperwork from multiple cases into a neat pile. You grab the empty water bottles lying around to toss them in the trash. You have been working hard and overtime which results in a lack of self-care. You brush your hair away from your forehead and let out a deep breath.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company,” You shyly apologize. She smiles and slowly nods her head to express that she doesn’t mind. Her curious eyes glance around your house as if she is mentally taking note of everything. She walks over to your single-person couch and plops herself on it. She lets out a throaty sigh and relaxes her body.

“Want a drink?” You offer. She peers at you beneath her long lashes. She ponders a little, narrowing her eyes in thought. She tilts her head slightly with a small smile.

“You have beer?” She asks. You walk over to your fridge and pull out two bottles of beer. You hand her one which she happily accepted. You take a seat on your other couch, opposite side of her. Her eyes never leave you as she takes a big swing of the liquid. Her jaw clenches as she shallows. She leans back onto the seat and crosses her legs. You take a small sip and gently place it back onto the table. You pull the notebook out from your pocket. You flip through the pages til you find the most recent one.

“I found a few more interesting things on the victims' skin-”

“I didn’t come here just to talk about the case,” She cuts you off. Your tongue stops moving as if she had cut it off. You tilt your head in confusion. You want to ask her what else is she here for, but no words come out. She notices your inner struggle and waves the beer bottle. She feels slightly bad.

“But yes, what were you saying?” She averts the topic back on track. She takes another gulp of the beer. You watch a single drop slip from her lips and roll down her throat. You silently dry shallow. She takes the back of her hand to wipe it. She continues to listen to your new findings without disrupting you. You mention how you notice a slight green color around the victim's wrist. By the time you were done speaking, she had finished half the bottle. You place the notebook down and wait for her to speak. She leans forward and rests her elbows on her knee. Her face is stern with deeper meaning.

“Can I ask you something?” She challenges.

“Yeah,” You answer almost like a whisper.

“Do you ever feel like you’re being watched?” She tests. You immediately feel a chill run down your spine. You blink nervously, darting your eyes to the window. Why is she asking this? It makes you scared without reason.

“What do you mean,” You hesitate. She brings the back of her hand to cover her smile. She lets out a chuckle. She focuses on your eyes and notices a hint of fear. She fake coughs as she brushes her pants. She gets up from the couch and turns to head to the door. You quickly get up to follow her, anxiously looking over your shoulder. She catches you in the act and couldn’t help but laugh again. She brings her fingers to touch the tips of your hair. She twirls the strand between the thumb and pointer finger.

“You’ll begin understanding what the victims truly feel,” She explains. She lets go of your hair and opens the door herself. She doesn’t turn to face you as she waves goodbye.

“Lock your doors,” She chirps. You watch her spin her keychains around her finger. She enters her car and you watch til she is down the street. You slam the door shut and immediately lock the door. You place your palm against the door and take a deep breath. Now that she is gone, your house is more eerie and quiet. You shake the chills from your body and turn around. You pick up the glass bottles and notice her red lipstick mark on the rim. You lift the rim closer to your eyes to examine it. Matte red. You let out a small smile as you thought about how well the color matched her. Your smile starts to drop when you remember what she said. ‘Do you ever feel like you’re being watched?’ her voice replayed in your mind. You try to understand the deeper meaning. You assume that she was talking about tactics. You’ve heard multiple times that a good detective understands the mindset of the murderer or victim.

It’s the next day and you walk into the kitchen to grab a water bottle. As you tilt your head back to drink, you feel a dark presence behind you. It feels like it’s breathing down your neck. You jerk your head behind only to see nothing. You place the bottle down and move your hand to your forehead.

“I must be paranoid,” You sigh to yourself. As you lift the bottle to your lips again you hear a slight creek. You pause and the creek happens again. It sounds like a footstep. Fear and anxiety buzz in your mind. Your blood begins to pump too loud. You quietly reach over to grab a knife. You grip the handle. With alert eyes and adrenaline, you take a step towards the sound. You inspect the area but find nothing suspicious. You lower the knife. You tilt your head in confusion. You could’ve sworn you heard someone or something here. You turn your body and collide into something. The impact caused the knife to slip from your hands and clatter onto the ground. You let out a scream and nearly fall. Rio Vidal smiles brightly from seeing your reaction. Her hair is fully down and longer than you expected. She wears a normal black sweater. You hold yourself onto the wall and place a hand on your heart.

“Rio!? What- how did you get in here?!” You gasp, heart still pounding. She jerks her head towards the door and shrugs.

“Doors unlock,” She casually states. You turn your head to the lock to confirm it was unlocked. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You remembered you locked the doors last night… how did it…

“I just wanted to come by and say hi. I missed you,” She teases. There was no hint of truth in her statement. You gently laugh in disbelief. She takes out a note from her pocket and hands it over to you.

“I did some digging last night. This autopsy case number from a few months ago is similar to the body yesterday. Look into it,” She explains. You examine the neatly written number on the note.

“…Okay thank you,” You respond. She smiles and nods her head. She doesn’t waste another second.

“I’ll see you soon,” She turns her body and waves her hands without looking back again. She stops at the door and a smirk appears on her lips.

“Next time you should actually use the knife,” She chuckles. You hear the door close beside you. You stare at the knife lying on the ground. You feel embarrassed at how helpless you quickly became. If it were someone else you would’ve been done for.

It’s later in the night and the moon shines brightly in the sky. You sit on the couch with the laptop on the coffee table. You type the case number onto the database and watch the screen load up the autopsy. You let out a small gasp. The pictures of the body closely resembled the one yesterday. Freshly red lipstick and combed hair. Your eyes notice something around the victim's wrist. You zoom the picture closer. The wrist has a slight green mark.

You hear the floors creak again, but this time it’s above you. Your eyes dart from the screen into the dark space. The creaking continues in small time measures. You lower the laptop screen when you realize someone is upstairs. You quickly get up and rush into the kitchen to grab a knife. You grip the handle more firmly, not letting it drop this time. You quietly reach the staircase. With each step, your heart thumps louder. You finally make it closer to the sound. The soft shuffle sounds are coming from your room. Your hand reaches the handle, but you pause. You take a deep breath and silently pray.

You shove the doors open and the figure inside your room freezes in shock. Your eyes widen at the body. You can tell it’s a woman, judging by the curves exposed by the tight black shirt and pants. Her hair is dark and long. You could not tell who it was because she had a mask that only exposed her eyes. The woman lunges towards you. You try swinging your knife, but she grabs your wrist and pins you against the hallway wall. She tilts her head to examine you. Her dark cold eyes piercing yours. You struggled against her, trying to push against her strength, but it was no use. You jerk your head forward to head bump her. She grunts in pain and lets go of your wrist to hold her forehead. You give her stomach a strong kick. She lets out a sharp yelp and falls. You rush to escape, but she clings onto your ankle making you trip and fall. The knife falls out of your grip and clatters onto the ground. You try crawling your way to the knife, but the woman has already run to grab it. You lay helplessly, staring up at her. She walks over til she is above you. She kneels her thighs around your stomach. She lets out a teasing laugh before she tries jabbing the knife into your neck. You quickly grab onto the sharp blade and wince in pain. Your blood starts pooling at the tip of the knife. It drips onto your face.

“Have you ever felt this pain?” She purrs. You grunt as she presses the edge deeper. She leans in to observe you. She watches how your jaws clench tightly. A few whimpers would escape your mouth. Your eyes begin to form tears.

“It kinda tickles doesn’t it?” She giggles. You feel your stomach turn at her taunts. You let go of the knife and clench your hands around her throat. She lets out an airy gasp. She wraps her fingers around your wrist and stares into your eyes. Her eyes seem to sparkle with delight. Strangely, she isn’t trying to pull your hands away. She hums and buckles her hips slightly against you. With a quick move, you pull the mask down to reveal the woman’s face. Your eyes widen and you feel your blood run cold.

Rio Vidal.

She smiles brightly with her teeth showing. You couldn’t believe it was her. Your grip around her neck loosens. She swiftly takes your wrist in one hand and pins it above your head. She places the tip of the knife against the skin of your collar.

“Why are you doing this?” You gasp. She shakes her head revealing she won’t tell. The tip of the knife digs deeper into your skin. You feel a heavy drip of blood run down your chest. She lets out a low chuckle. She leans her head towards you and you shut your eyes in fear. Suddenly you feel a warm wet muscle touch your skin. She drags her tongue from the top of your chest to the cut. Your blood is evident on her tongue. She softly moans and you feel your stomach flutter. She feels your body struggle beneath her. She gently takes your cut palm to her lips. You try jerking your hands away, but she tightens the grip.

“Stop squirming. Let me heal you,” She whispers. Something in her tone is lance with concern. You listen to her and halt your movement. She sticks out her tongue and slowly tails her warm tip along the deep cut. Your face scrunches in pain and your thighs clench in arousal. Her gaze never leaves your eyes. Your cheeks turn red as you watch her. She let go of your hands and you immediately went to look at it. The cut was healed. You could only see the mix of your blood and her saliva glistening against your skin. You’re in disbelief.

“H-How?” You breathe out. She licks her lips slowly as if she didn’t want to waste a single drop. Her fingernails find themselves scratching your jaw slightly.

“Are you going to run?” She asks. You immediately shake your head no, but in your head, you plan to use this as an escape. She gently taps your cheeks and smiles.

“Good,” She purrs. She gets up from your stomach and checks her body for bruises. She lifts her shirt to inspect her stomach. You had kicked her hard earlier. While she is distracted, you quickly run into your room. You rush to your nightstand and open the drawer that has your officer pistol. Your heart sinks. It’s not there.

“Looking for this?” She chirps as she playfully shakes the pistol in the air. Her other hand rubs her stomach to ease the bruising pain. You put your shaking hands up as surrender. You thought she was going to shoot you, but she ended up sliding the gun down the long hallway. She has a different idea. You try to dart past her, but she grabs your waist and shoves you onto the bed. You cry out in frustration and try clawing at her back. She pins you down but you keep thrashing your body. Your thighs grind against her and she bites her lip.

“You lied,” She hisses. She grabs your face harshly, no longer gentle. She forces you to keep still. Your tears roll down your cheeks. She uses her thumb to rub it.

“Let me go,” You beg.

“Not when you look this good,” She smirks. She pauses to stare at your pitiful crying face. She seems to be in awe. She finds herself leaning down to kiss your wet cheeks. Slowly, she kisses her way to your lips. Her lips are soft and needy. Your heart hammers loudly against your chest. You want to push her away, but her lips cloud your mind. She pulls away to test you. To see if you would shove her away. Her heart skips a beat when she finds you submissively lying still. Your eyes glare back at her, but she knows better. She returns her lips to yours and moves it slowly. You hear her let out a low moan. Her tongue rubs against your lower lip and you clench your thighs. You refuse to kiss her back.

“I know you want to,” She whispers in between kisses. Her thumb continues to gently rub your cheeks. She lets out another soft hum. You open your mouth to speak and she quickly slips her tongue in.

“I- I hate you,” You grunt. Your toes curl each time her tongue brushes in. She ignores you and continues kissing. You shut your eyes tightly. Her slow harsh moving lips turns you on more than you expected.

“Kiss me,” She begs. The pleading sound coming from her switches something in your head. You kiss her back. Your wet lips slide easily against hers. She lets out a dirty chuckle.

“Mm there you go,” She breathes. She slides her hands down your shirt til she reaches the edge. Her fingers sneak up to grope your chest. She grips harshly like a touch-starve woman. You let out a small grunt and arch your body against her. She pinches your nub hard. You accidentally bite onto her lips in reaction. She moans and buckles her core against you. She pulls away from the kiss and rubs your swollen lips with her fingers.

“Let me eat you,” She expresses. You blush and turn your head to the side to avoid her stare. Her other hand finds the loop of your pants. She gives it a small tug as she leans her mouth to your ears. She breathes and licks the shell of your ears. You twitch under her touch.

“I want to taste you,” She sighs. She moves your head to face her. She sticks out her long tongue and flicks up.

“You’re so perverted,” You blush. She chuckles and attempts to tug your pants down. From the position you lay, it makes it hard for her to pull it. Your hands reach down to unbutton and zip down. Her hungry eyes watch your fingers move fast. You lift yourself slightly to pull your pants along with your panties down. It drops at the edge of your bed. She runs her nails along your lower stomach with a cocky smile. You feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. She begins lowering herself between your legs. She spreads your thighs apart and lets out a dirty gasp. She glances up at you between her lashes. She drags her finger along your slit and you jerk your legs together when she gets close to the clit. She clicks her tongue in disapproval and forces your legs apart which causes you to grunt. Without warning she drags her tongue along your dripping cunt. She closes her eyes to process how you taste. She lets out a hum of approval. She continues to give you short and small licks. She would sometimes lick your clit, but not enough to satisfy you. You push your head against the pillow, feeling impatient. You bring one hand down to touch the top of her messy dark head. Your fingers grip onto her hair and you shamelessly shove her deeper into your cunt. She grinds her fingers into your thighs.

“Fucken hurry,” You cuss out. She smiles happily at your aggressiveness. You chase your core against her tongue to please yourself. She allows you to take control, even if your grip on her hair starts to hurt.

“Feels good doesn't it?” She smirks. You bite your lips and nod your head. Your shirt starts to feel stuffy because of how hot you’re becoming. She pushes her hand against your thighs to spread yourself wider. She starts to lick harshly and sucks your clit. You suck in a sharp moan. Your wetness mixes in with her saliva. Her strong tongue doesn't stop flicking against your clit. You gasp and roll your eyes in pleasure. You feel your lower stomach beginning to build up for an orgasm. Your leg twitches each time she decides to suck.

“You’re so good,” You praise. She smiles and runs her tongue against your slit again. Your hands gripping her head start to loosen. She glances up to see you enjoying yourself. Your other hand is busy groping your chest. She gives your clit a strong suck. This causes you to let out a loud moan and grip her head harder. She repeats the act and watches how your body arches up. Your other hand reaches down to join the other. You roll your cunt against her mouth while clenching both hands on her head. More cusses and moans spill from your lips. She can tell you are nearly close to reaching your high. Your body begins to shake so much that she has to push your thighs down.

“I’m close,” You gasps. She closes her eyes to focus on licking and sucking your clit. With a few more movements from her tongue, you reach your orgasm with an embarrassingly loud cry. Your body twitches and you gasp for air. You pat her head to signal her to stop, but she ignores it and continues sucking.

“W-wait!” You moan, feeling overstimulated. You let go of her hair to clench onto the bedsheets. She brings her fingers to your core and plunges in her middle finger. The finger easily slides in and out with your silky juice. You let out a whine. She lifts her mouth from your core. You see her lips glistening.

“Give me another one,” She demands. You shake your sweaty head, chest moving up and down. You can feel tears building up and she smiles. Just what she wanted. She adds another finger into your core. You tilt your head back against the pillow to cry out. The stretch of her fingers feels so good.

“I want to see you cry,” She darkly chuckles. She feels your warm hole welcome her fingers in so well. She decides to curl her fingers to press into your gummy walls. You moan loudly and feel tears running down your cheeks. She returns her tongue to your clit and sucks. As her fingers continue to abuse your walls, her mouth sucks. You are panting and moaning. You don’t even understand what is coming out of your mouth. Your orgasm is coming faster than the previous one. Your body jerks feverishly. Your hair sticks against your sweaty forehead and neck. Her long fingers increase in speed. She doesn’t care how hard she is going in you. You feel yourself let out a loud squeal as you reach another high. She feels wetness run down her knuckles and she finally slows down her fingers and tongue. She slips her fingers out and watches you catch your breath. She wipes her wet mouth with the back of her hands. She leans foreward to kiss you a kiss on the cheek.

“My heart beats for you,” She whispers at your state of vulnerability. You gaze at her with tired eyes. She watches you with curiosity as you take her wet fingers to your mouth. You lick along her palm to her long fingers that were in you. Her mouth slightly opens as she gasps. Her eyes darken in pleasure and she simply smiles. Your eyes notice an unusual green color on your wrist.

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mywritersmind · 2 months ago

Text

LIFE IMITATES ART - LN4

summary : a favorite painting of a hurried kiss meets two strangers who’s friends loved to torture.

listen up : shy-ish reader lol

word count : 801

⋆｡‧˚⋆

The kiss.

I stand in front of the painting in a blue top the same color as the woman’s dress.

Oil on Canvas, it reads.

My friend touches my arm and makes me jump, “You and this painting…” she shakes her head, crossing her arms and facing it, “I just don’t understand. It’s… plain.”

“Plain?” I scoff, “It’s a work of pure beauty. The work of shadows and body positioning… It’s just amazing to me. I haven’t even mentioned the ominous sort of mystery of the dark corridor, it just makes you realize that to tell a story it doesn’t need to be written d-” I turn to my friend except she’s replaced with a curly haired brunette man. “Oh.”

He’s looking at me fondly, like he had been listening, “Don’t let me stop you.”

My hand goes to my necklace, “I’m sorry- I was talking to my friend and she…” I look around to see her speaking to a tan dark haired man, “She’s distracted, per usual.”

He chuckles a bit, “My friend gets distracted easily as well.” I turn back to him, british, I can hear it in his voice. “Especially by beautiful women. Something we have in common…” I ignore my face heating.

Turning back to the work as he looks at it with me, “I’ve always wondered about the shadows as well… I'm not close to an artist but I can tell what this one was trying to say.”

I bite my lip, “And what do you think that is?”

His hands go behind his back, his red sweater shifting as he moves, “That they’re running out of time, that something is coming.”

I nod, he took the words right out of my mouth, I turn to him, examining his face from the side. Hes tan, with a slight cut on his oddly perfect nose, when he smiles, a bit of a dimple appears.

“I’m Y/n.” I say quickly.

He turns to me, “Lando.”

“Lando?” I say, “interesting name.”

His eyes narrow, “In a good way?”

“We’ll see.” I shrug. My friend hurries back over to me, speaking much too loud for a museum.

“Y/n! You two are matching the painting!” She points to Lando and I’s clothing and I realize the colors really do look perfectly like the painting, “Kiss!”

“What?” I actually laugh at her words.

“What she said!” Lando’s friend cuts in, “Be brave, Lando!”

Lando scoffs, “Don’t act like I've never kissed a woman.”

The friend just shrugs and Lando rolls his eyes, “Kiss!” they say again.

“I don’t even know him.”

“Lando, introduce yourself!” the friend hits his arm.

“I did!” Lando protects himself, “We’re acquainted, leave her alone, Carlos.”

I glance at him but he’s staring daggers at Carlos who’s just grinning. My friend pulls out her phone, holding it up, “Kiss.” she says again.

She eyes me and I know I'm screwed. When we came to Italy I said it was my mission to do something out of my comfort zone. This is definitely out of it.

I take a second, then breathe, “Fine.” I face Lando who looks genuinely shocked.

He leans down a bit, whispering, “Are you sure?”

His proximity makes me nervous and I need to stop overthinking this, “Yes. It’s my favorite painting. Life imitates art, right?”

He just laughs and cups my face in his hand, leaning in close slowly, his eyes flicking to my lips. I give him one last nod of approval and his lips meet mine in a soft and tender way.

His skin is warm against mine, the cool of his rings press against my jaw, directly contrasting that. He holds me the same way the man holds the woman in the painting.

I hear our friends giggling and he’s off me in a matter of seconds. He looks a bit flushed and I know my cheeks are matching the pink of his.

“You’re a good kisser.” He whispers before turning back to our friends and asking for the picture.

Carlos alerts Lando that they have to go, “Like, five minutes ago!” The Spanish man says.

“Shit! Sorry.” He looks at me kindly, “It was nice meeting you- and kissing you…” He laughs a bit and a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.

“You too…” That’s all I can say before he is running out the door.

“Damn.” My friend crosses her arms, “They were hot.”

I get the DM while laying in bed, sighing to myself about the boy who let me check off something from my Italy bucket list. My heart rate has never spiked so high.

One message request - LANDO NORRIS

#fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #lando norris fanfic #f1 imagine #lando x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando imagine

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navybrat817 · 1 year ago

Note

I wish I had a smitten Bucky. Just sees me and wants me. 🥺

I know the feeling, nonnie.

Check Yes or No

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky instantly falls for you, but waits to ask you out.

Word Count: Over 2.1k

Warnings: Fluff, could be seen as instalove on Bucky's side, attraction, slight insecurities, minor time jump, Alpine being the best, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I can't send Bucky your way, lovelies, so I hope you enjoy this short, surprise fic! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wasn't looking for love the day he met you, but it found him anyway.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve greeted from his seat when he walked into the conference rooms and nodded to the spot beside him that you occupied. “I’d like you to meet our newest transfer. She’s also moving into the Tower.”

He was a changed man the moment your eyes met. Breathtaking was a word to describe you given how he had forgotten to breathe. He had witnessed many sunrises and sunsets in his life, a kaleidoscope of colors painted in the sky to both soothe and awaken the soul. They paled in comparison to the beauty before him.

One glance and he belonged to you completely.

“Hi, Bucky. It’s nice to meet you.”

While he wasn't sure if Heaven existed, you speaking his name was like hearing the voice of an angel.

“I’m Bucky.”

Of all the things he could've said, reiterating his name was what his mouth went with.

Instead of giving him a weird look or brushing him off when he scowled at himself, you smiled. “I look forward to us working together.”

Bucky couldn't tell you what the meeting was about that day, but he remembered the details about you. The way you leaned forward in your seat to pay extra attention when someone else spoke, also giving him an ample view of your chest before he reminded himself not to stare. The slight crease in your forehead when you jotted down an important note. And the soft giggle you let out when Steve cracked a joke.

He suddenly wished he was funnier.

“Have a good rest of the day, Bucky,” you said when the meeting ended.

Bucky didn't have to try to smile with you. It just came naturally. When you smiled back, it was easy to imagine what it would be like if you were his girl.

“You, too,” he replied, giving himself a mental victory for not screwing up his words this time. “Wait!”

You paused and looked at him expectantly. “Yeah?”

Bucky realized he had no reason to keep you from leaving. He just didn't want you to go. “Do you need help moving your stuff in?”

“I actually got my things moved in late last night, but thanks for the offer,” you replied, checking the time with wide eyes. “I'm so sorry. I have to go. I’m in 2L if you need anything!”

“Bye,” he called after you, turning in his chair to watch you go.

How did he miss you already?

Though Steve had a knowing look in his eyes, he graciously kept his mouth shut as he left the room. He reminded him an hour later that he wouldn't break any bylaws by asking you out. The punk somehow knew that you weren't seeing anyone.

Which made him happy.

While he appreciated Steve looking out for happiness, he still had to get his head on straight.

“Once I completely trust my own mind, maybe I will,” Bucky said, even though the stuff was already out of his head. He owed it to himself to take his time. And you.

Imagine his surprise when he found a note from you on his door the next day.

Hey, Bucky! Lunch on me today? Check YES or NO.

The lopsided grin on his face wouldn't go away when he read it again. You must've been interested in him enough to ask about him. How else did you know his apartment number? Why else would you ask him to lunch?

He nearly shouted “YES” in the hall before he came to his senses and simply checked the option before he returned the note to your apartment door.

When he met up with you later, he told himself it wasn't a date. It couldn't be, right? It didn't keep his heart from stopping when you answered your door. Dressed down and casual, you looked like an angel went to Earth just for him.

“Hey, Bucky,” you smiled. “Ready to go?”

He hadn't said much on the way to the cafe since he was too busy hanging on to your every word, but it was like he had known you for ages as you carried on the conversation. Your questions weren't invasive and you didn't seem to mind the occasional short answers. It was also the shortest meal of his life, over too soon for his liking, and he also refused to let you pay for his meal.

He wanted to show you that gentlemen still existed.

“Lunch again next week?” You offered.

“Sure,” he answered, his head spinning from giddiness.

But it wasn't a date.

It was time to change that.

Today was the day. Six months from the day he met you. Six months of chatting with you between missions and slowly getting to know you over weekly lunches. Six months of falling for you more and more each day and he finally worked up the courage to ask you out.

But falling was the easy part. Confessing was an entirely different story. He would either crash to the ground and hope his wounds would later heal or you’d catch him as he fell. No matter what, he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.

“Just like we practiced, okay?” Bucky asked.

“Meow.”

Alpine nuzzled her head against Bucky’s with a gentle purr when he huffed. She was his little partner-in-crime through and through. Like you, even though you didn't realize it, the little white ball of fur helped save him. He was fairly certain he wasn't supposed to bring her to this floor, but any reprimand would be worth it.

Besides, the Tower, office, anywhere they operated should allow them to have their pets with them, especially for emotional support.

“I'm counting on you,” he teased, placing the folded up piece of paper in her mouth. “Go.”

He peeked around the corner when he set Alpine down. The sun illuminated you from where you sat in the lounge, curled up in your normal spot on the sofa. You liked to relax there occasionally to read. He wondered what book you had with you today.

Thankfully, no one was around to disturb you.

Except for him.

“Alpine, is that you?” You asked when you looked up, closing the book as the cat approached you. While the feline was cautious of some, she warmed up to you immediately when you met and solidified that you were the one for him. “Whatcha got there? Where’s Bucky?”

His name spilling from your lips was still one of his favorite sounds.

He held his breath when Alpine jumped up beside you, opened her mouth, and dropped the paper in your lap. He immediately began to second guess himself when you unfolded it with a furrowed brow. Why did he think this was a good idea? Why didn't he just ask you like a normal guy?

To be fair, he hadn't been normal for some time.

“Will you go out with me? Check YES or NO. Love, Bucky,” you read out loud with a huge smile, which was enough to make his heart race. You giggled a moment later when Alpine bumped your hand, the soft noise making his stomach do a funny sort of flip. “Okay, okay. Let me get my pen out of my bag.”

Bucky exhaled a little as he moved to stand in the doorway. You didn't toss the paper away, so that had to be a good sign. He carefully kept himself from showing any outward emotion when you met his gaze, but his knees nearly gave out. His palms also began to sweat when you gave him a half smile.

Just when he thought you couldn't look more beautiful than you had the day before, you proved him wrong.

He ran a hand through his hair and hoped he looked halfway decent since he hadn't brushed it. But you commented a few weeks back that you liked it long when you saw an old photo, so he wanted to grow it out. He lost count of how many times he imagined your fingers in his hair

Maybe one day.

Watching you grab your pen, it was like he was drowning. The tide pulled him under as you made a mark on the sheet. His lungs burned when you handed it back to Alpine. He couldn't come up for air. He couldn't breathe.

Until you smiled again.

“Thanks, Alpine,” you said.

His cat gracefully walked back to Bucky and he swore he caught you trying not to giggle as she climbed up his leg. His heart hammered in his chest when he took the slip of paper from her mouth. Meeting your tender gaze, he couldn't bring himself to open it though.

After he told himself he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.

“Not going to see what my answer is?” You asked as he carried Alpine into the lounge.

“I want to,” he replied, sighing as he took a seat beside you. His cat was perfectly content to lay in his lap. “But I’m questioning if I did this the right way.”

The note you gave him for a simple lunch request may have been a small gesture in your eyes, but it meant the world to him. He thought by asking you out this way that he could give you something meaningful in return. Something that only the two of you shared.

That was all he wanted.

You turned toward him, your knee touching his. The small touch sent heat down his spine. “Open it and you’ll find out.”

He nodded, thankful that his vibranium hand didn't shake as he lifted the sheet. “Wait, let me say something before I do.”

The corner of your lip tugged as you tried not to smile. “Bucky-”

“I like you. I really like you. I have since the day we met. And I'm going to like you tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that,” he admitted in a rush, catching your sharp inhale as he looked into your eyes. “But I know my past isn't easy to deal with. If you just want to be a teammate or colleague, that’s okay. Just. Being a part of your life in some way is more than enough.”

Alpine lifted her head and looked between the two of you, as if she was waiting with baited breath to see what would happen next.

Bucky felt a crack in his heart when you didn't speak or react, his body slumping slightly into the couch. It was okay. He took a chance and told you how he felt. He wouldn't force you to reciprocate.

“Bucky?” You asked above a whisper, reaching over to help him unfold the paper. He gasped when he saw the checkmark beside “YES”, blinking rapidly to make sure you picked that box. “I really like you, too.”

“You do?” He exhaled, grasping your hand with renewed joy. He was careful not to squeeze too hard. Hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

“Yeah. Pretty much since the day I met you,” you admitted, glancing in your lap before you met his gaze again. He saw stars in your eyes. “And your past isn't your fault, Bucky. You aren't something to ‘deal with’, okay? You’re a good man. I can give you a whole list of reasons if you need it.”

Physically, Bucky’s body was in peak condition. Your confession, however, caused all of the air to leave his lungs and made him weak in the best possible way. A familiar warmth moved through Bucky’s veins as he breathed again and it dawned on him at that moment that he hadn't felt cold since you walked into his life.

Not once.

Your faith in him gave him strength. Your mere existence gave him the courage to try. And he didn't have to go it alone.

“Wow,” he breathed, relieved and elated as he gave you a small smile. “How about tomorrow night?”

“It’s a date,” you smiled.

“Great,” he smiled back. A date. He couldn't wait to see the look on Steve's face when he told him that he finally asked you out.

“And I think the note was purrfect,” you teased at Alpine before you scrunched up your face. “I ruined the moment, didn't I?”

Bucky brought your hand to his mouth, kissing it as gently as he possibly could. He could hear your heart race. So was his. “Not at all.”

He knew it was too soon to say he loved you and it was likely too soon for you to feel that way about him, but he felt hope in your smile that you would one day.

For now, he had a date to plan all because you checked “yes”.

We know it'll be the best date ever, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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lovebugism · 4 months ago

Note

What if reader's friends convince her to go on a date with another guy, and this guy is an absolute jerk? I think reader would call Eddie and ask her to come pick her up - why is every guy an asshole? Except Eddie of course 🖤

ty for requesting :D — grumpy!eddie rescues you from a bad date then offers to take you on a better one (friends to lovers, hurt/comfort ish | 1k)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

The sunset matches the color of your Slurpee. A fiery red and orange hue, like the mango and strawberry concoction in your cup. You sip from the plastic straw and pretend to taste the sky in your mouth — pretending not to notice the pounding bass of Eddie’s van as he peals into the parking lot.

You sit on the curb and keep your eyes trained on the cracked pavement under your feet. All cool. Like you hadn’t called him for help at all.

“You could’ve been more specific about where you were, you know?” Eddie shouts, punctuating his question with the slam of the car door. His worn sneakers scuff the concrete with each of his rushed strides. You’d almost think he was actually worried about you.

“I told you I was at the payphone by the Seven-Eleven,” you shrug, tilting your chin to look up at the boy when he stands ahead of you.

“There’s four of those,” he argues, with his lanky figure looming over you. He pushes his leather jacket off his sides (which he wears in spite of the summer heat) to put his hands on his hips. “Seriously. I counted ‘em all in the half hour it took me to find you.”

You squint up at him, hardly apologetic after the shit day you’ve had. “Well, sorry for not being more clear,” you spit in a cynical monotone.

“Apology accepted,” Eddie shrugs. He huffs and sits on the curb next to you while you slurp audibly at the slushie in your fist. He leans over to knock your shoulders with his. “What happened?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Figured… Can I have some, at least?”

He’s only partly surprised when you hand over the drink without protest. He takes it in his ringed fist, looks inside to observe its content, then sips at the red straw (trying to ignore the nagging thought that your lips have been where his are now). The strawberry-mango mixture melts quickly on his tongue, foreign and sweet. “’S nice.”

You scoff like you’re owed the compliment. “Right? I let Josh try some earlier, and he said it tasted like shit. I was like, you know what, this is my final fucking straw.”

Eddie’s face screws. He wipes dramatically at his mouth with the back of his hand, hopelessly trying to erase the other asshole’s DNA. “Are you serious?” he mumbles, all annoyed ‘cause you hadn’t thought to warn him beforehand. You don’t seem to understand his meaning, though, as you shrug lazily in response.

“Well, him trying to feel me up in his car was my actual final straw. But then he hated my all-time favorite Slurpee, and I didn’t even want to look at him anymore. I just told him to leave me here.”

The only thing Eddie hates more than putting his mouth where Josh’s has been — other than the thought of Josh taking you on a date at all — is the idea of Josh not treating you right. His chest burns with a withheld rage.

“Are you talking about fucking Josh O.?” he scoffs and passes the styrofoam cup back to you. “Like, the moron from Mr. Mundy’s, Josh O.? That’s who Steve set you up with?”

“Unfortunately,” you grumble and take another sip, more casual about the subtle spit-swapping than the boy beside you had been.

“He was basically setting you up for failure, then. You know that, right?”

“I just wanted a free meal,” you confess quietly.

Eddie squints. His eyes flit from your profile, to your fidgeting hand punching holes in the ice with your straw, and back to your profile again. “Well, did you get one?”

“Yep. We split one burger at the diner.”

A laugh sputters from his pink mouth.

Your head whips to glare at him. “It’s not funny.”

Eddie props his elbow on his knee to hide his smile behind his ringed hand. “I mean… It kinda is, though. ‘Cause even I could buy two meals for us, and I’m basically the brokest fucker in this town.”

“Are you offering?”

His brows pinch. “Offering what?”

“To buy me a burger,” you say in a mousy voice, pretending to be innocent as you peer at him beneath your lashes, all doe-eyed.

“What?” Eddie scoffs through the sparkling in his chest. As a self-proclaimed metalhead, there was absolutely nothing metal about confessing to stupid crushes. “No.”

“Well, it sounds a lot like you’re offering,” you tease before wrapping your lips around the straw of your drink.

“Well, this sounds a lot like talking for someone who doesn’t wanna talk about it,” he mocks.

Your eyes narrow in annoyance. You part from your Slurpee and mumble through the ice on your tongue. “I wasted my quarters on you,” you deadpan.

Eddie rolls his eyes. He rises from the curb with a huff, wincing at the distant ache in his long legs. “C’mon, weirdo. Let’s go,” he urges, towering over you again.

You shake your head, gaze averted, suddenly shy. “I’m okay here.”

“Let’s go.”

“I’m serious, Eds. I don’t feel like going home right now—”

“I’m not taking you home,” he scoffs like it’s obvious. Your eyes flit back to his, suddenly hopeful again, and he tries not to cower. “I’m taking you to the diner. So I can get you a real meal.”

You seem particularly moved by the uncharacteristic act of kindness. “Really?”

“Yes, really— I don’t want you to starve to death,” he grouses, feigning annoyance ‘cause it’s easier than facing his real feelings in the face. “Now, let’s go before I change my mind.”

He walks off ahead of you on long legs, leaving you behind to catch up. But, because he isn’t a total asshole, he opens the squeaking passenger side door for you.

“Can I get a milkshake, too?” you wonder with a scrunched nose, helping yourself onto the cracked pleather seat.

“Don’t push it,” Eddie squints. He goes to shut the door, then catches the pretty pout pinching your features. “Fine,” he groans before slamming it shut.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: summer fic fest '24

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nereidprinc3ss · 6 months ago

Note

Happy 2k babe! I have a request for fluffy Spencer smut based on the song "touch tank" by Quinnie! (the song gives me like golden retriever vibes so maybe you could put something about reader playing with his hair in there? I don't know I'm having later seasons fluffy hair Spencer brainrot and I never make requests, obviously feel free to ignore or change things if this is too specific! <3)

hi angel babe!!! i love this song!! and i too am always having later seasons fluffy haired spencer brainrot!! i wrote this super quick, please let me know if its any good, ILY!!! xo

warnings/tags: fem!reader, softdom!spence, sub reader, fingering, oral f receiving, sorta kinda overstimulation, implicit consent, praise n stuff, not proofread, written at 9 pm on a tuesday night, so fluffy

18+ (smut)

-------------------------------

Spencer is clearly almost asleep on the couch next to you. That’s one of many things you find endlessly fascinating and charming about him��his ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time within minutes.

So you probably shouldn’t speak. But the stakes are low; it’s barely 7:30 in the evening.

“Spence?” You whisper. His eyes don’t open, but his thumb goes back to making little passes where it’s settled over your hip.

“Hm?”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

He smiles, slight but beautiful—yet his eyes remain stubbornly closed.

“Why not?”

“’Cause I want you to be awake.”

“Then you can’t keep playing with my hair like that.”

You pout as if he can see you.

“But I like playing with your hair.”

Spencer hums, and you can tell you’re losing him again as you continue carding your hand through stupidly soft locks.

“One or the other. You can’t have both.”

“I love you both, though,” you complain. “I don’t know who to pick.”

The grin has been steadily fading from his relaxed face but it flickers back to life for a moment.

“I’m getting a haircut tomorrow. That should make it easier for you.”

“What?”

It’s the genuine horror in your voice that finally gets him to open his eyes. A little line appears between his brows as he regards you with bleary eyes.

“What what?”

“You didn’t consult me!”

The momentarily tensed muscles in his face relax and he rolls his eyes affectionately before craning his neck to kiss your forehead.

“I’m not in the habit of requesting your approval before I make choices like that.”

“Spencer, please don’t cut your hair,” you beg, genuinely distraught. “You can’t. It’s so so pretty.”

“It’s too long, baby. I don’t want to grow it out again.”

“You don’t have to grow it out! Just don’t get it any shorter! It’s perfect how it is,” you insist. Spencer narrows his eyes as you plead with him. But you stand firm in your position. His hair is sort of shaggy, sure—too long to be considered cropped and too short to be considered long. It’s like a beautiful curly halo and it’s perfect playing-with length. “I’m serious. I’m asking you to not cut it short, please. This is what I want for my birthday.”

“Your birthday’s not even—”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top? I love your hair so much and I love you more but I just really don’t want you to cut it, please—”

He’s laughing when he silences you with a soft kiss, and you melt, sighing against him as his hand slides up and down the back of your thigh. When he knows you’ve been sufficiently soothed, he pulls away, still smiling.

“Oh my god, baby—are you about to cry?”

“Stop!” you whine, burying your face into a throw pillow and screwing your eyes shut. Your nose crinkles up with embarrassment. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and though he’s no longer outright laughing, traces of humor still color his lowered voice as he kisses all over the side of your face. “I had no idea you felt that way. I didn’t realize I’d be causing you so much emotional distress if I cut my hair.”

You sniffle away any unfortunate emotional reactions and turn your head back to him. He’s ducked down slightly, still peppering kisses over your jaw and neck, and you lace your fingers through the contentious hair.

“Obviously I’m not the boss of you. If it makes you uncomfortable I want you to cut it. But I really like it how it is.”

He hums against your throat and the vibrations send a chill down your spine. You arch against him unconsciously.

“You are definitely the boss of me. I don’t know anyone else who I like receiving orders from so much.”

“Hotch,” you whisper, and you can feel Spencer’s teeth against your neck as he smiles and presses another loving kiss to the sensitive spot above your collarbone.

“Not the kind of orders I was talking about. And I don’t particularly care what Hotch thinks of my hair, honey.” He kisses tenderly until he earns a tiny whimper from you—which sates him enough to raise his head until you’re eye-level again. His hand, however, has other plans—it creeps south, slipping under the waistband of your pajama pants. “What if we compromise? I just get it trimmed so it doesn’t keep getting in my eyes when I have a loaded gun in my hands, yeah?” You nod dutifully, looping your arms around his neck as his fingers dip beneath your underwear. When you don’t reply verbally, he prompts meaningfully, “okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, voice small as you look into his searching eyes.

For a few moments, when he finally pushes his fingers against your clit and begins rubbing with slow, gentle strokes, his eyes are everywhere on your face—then they focus back on your eyes, watching with that habitually intense interest permeated with a sense of devotion—like he wants to see exactly what pleasure looks like reflected in your irises. Like he could see through them to your brain and watch your dopamine transmitters working overtime. A soft moan escapes through parted lips, which seems to spur Spencer on. He drags more arousal over your aching bud and openly chuckles at your airy sigh of pleasure, unable to resist from giving you a short kiss.

“Feels good?”

“Mhm,” you breathe.

“Mhm,” he agrees, kissing you again just as quickly before pulling back to study your face once more. “Pretty girl.”

“You’re pretty,” you insist, with what little brain power is available to you as you rake one hand through his hair. He smiles, eyes pinging between your own and your mouth like he can’t decide where to look.

“I’m pretty?” he asks, speaking over another quiet, yet unabashed moan. You nod, hips bucking slightly off the couch cushion as he speed up the motion of his hand. The grin widens and his soft amber eyes soften further. “You’re so sweet.”

You give him a moan he can’t ignore and he takes it as a signal to slip two fingers into you, sighing in what sounds like relief just as your breath catches. The way he seems to feel your pleasure will never get less erotic. Once he’d explained it—something to do with mirror neurons—but whatever the reason, watching the way his arousal rises with yours is exhilarating.

A squeaking sound is expelled from your lungs and your whole body tenses, propelling you maybe an inch upward involuntarily.

His lips part the same as yours—but only allowing another dry laugh to pass between them.

“Relax. I’ll come to you.”

You hum as he leans down and kisses you back into the pillow—a proper kiss, this time, lips parted and the tip of his tongue grazing yours—all the while, still pumping his fingers much deeper than your own could ever manage. Each moan and gasp he allows you to release freely, only barely parting from your lips every few seconds to let you breathe and make your noises. When his fingers begin pumping faster, and you can hear it, you whine, knees clamping shut as the small of your back jumps away from the couch.

“Fuck,” you pant against his lips.

“Need you to keep your legs open, baby,” Spencer reminds you gently, giving you a peck and a moment to relax as his hand stills.

“I don’t think I can,” you admit shyly, still wriggling. “Um, can you—can you use your mouth, please?”

Your boyfriend chuckles again and your cheeks get warmer. Momentarily you allow yourself to be grateful that his face is pressed too close to your own for him to be really be looking at you.

“You still have to keep your legs apart for that.”

“I know. It’s easier when—when you’re not inside.”

The smile in Spencer’s voice when he replies gives you butterflies as if he’s not knuckle deep in you already.

“I bet you think that’s true.”

“It is!” you whine.

“You’ve never had your thighs wrapped around your head so tightly your ears pop, have you?”

“That did not happen.”

“Only once,” Spencer reassures you. “And I happen to like your thighs. So no harm done. Go lie down on the bed.”

You let out a small chirp as he withdraws his fingers from you and your waistband snaps back into place against your skin.

“Where are you going?” you ask suspiciously, once you’re on semi-steady feet and watching him rise from the couch too. At once he kisses your forehead and grabs your ass—the contrast is dizzying.

“To wash my hands,” he says, popping the fingers that were just in you into his mouth like a preliminary clean up. “Go,” he urges, jutting his chin in the direction of the bedroom door. You hang from him just a second longer, biting back a smile, before tearing yourself away and only half-skipping to the bedroom.

Only a moment or two after you flop joyfully down on the mattress, he appears in the doorway again, immediately noticing the way you’re practically vibrating with excitement and unable to hide your grin as he approaches. It seems the smile is contagious—he’s sporting one of his own as he climbs over you.

“You’re adorable,” he murmurs toothily, kissing you once and then speaking again, “I love you so much.”

It’s exactly the kind of thing that makes you feel all soft and shy and giddy and speechless—even as he gives you one more parting kiss and then is sitting up to slide your pants off.

Maybe even especially then.

The sweetness dissipates only a little, still hanging thick in the air as you kick your bottoms off, and he leans back down, pushing your shirt over your chest and pressing kisses to your ribs and down your tummy. He doesn’t waste much time, only taking one brief detour to suck a mark and sink his teeth into your inner thigh until your breath catches loud enough to appease him. Then it’s all easy—his cool fingertips trailing up and down the backs of your thighs as he kisses all over and around your core. Intimacy with Spencer is definitely a spectrum, and while you can always feel the depth of his love for you in every touch, right now it’s so tangible, so potent you can feel it in your teeth.

You coo when one of the kisses finally sticks, lacing your fingers through the hair you love so much and pushing it out of the way as he laps gently at you. He looks as beautiful as always in the golden hour light as it filters through the window, but you’ve always thought he’s just that extra bit prettier when he’s eating you out.

Visually you’re entranced—it’s only when he begins easing you into the deep end with the flicking of his tongue that your brow knits and you gasp.

“Spencer,” you whisper, and it melds into a louder gasp. “Baby.”

He hums into you, reaching around your thigh to grab one of your wrists. You allow him to drag your hand from his hair and intertwine your fingers, his hand on top of yours, pressing them against your stomach where he sweeps his thumb back and forth over your knuckles.

The display of tenderness only makes you ache deeper in your belly, singing in airy, open-mouthed praise for him with a moan you know he would describe as pretty. Spencer says things like that often. He always talks about you like you’re an art form. When it comes to talking about touching you, he’s especially poetic.

When he begins to suckle, your moans get a little more explicit.

But he likes those ones just fine, too.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, though it’s a little choked, as you writhe just slightly against him. “That’s so good—oh my god.”

The hand that’s not holding yours rapidly changes position—pressing your thigh to the side with his elbow while he slips his fingers inside you once more.

At that, you really do choke, your body attempting to sit bolt upright but set off balance by the way your hips buck. You moan, loud, lilting, head still lifted to watch as he begins fucking you with his fingers. Your fingers brush through his hair several times before you’re anchoring your hand in it and falling back.

“Wh—please, baby, I can’t—”

But you can, and you both know it. You always do this; your body sends you signs that you’re over-indulging and fights to escape the stimuli and Spencer has learned to recognize your false flags for what they are. His hand speeds up along with his tongue and you cry out again, fighting to keep your legs open and your hips on the bed as every nerve in your body seems to light up neon.

“Oh—Spencer I’m gonna come,” you warn, all high pitched and synthesized into one word. He simply hums a long mhm in acknowledgment, and decides at that moment to brush his fingers over that spot inside of you which proves to be exactly the right button to trigger your detonation.

You can’t help the way you twist then as your orgasm washes you out—jaw dropped as your final keen starts loud, sputters into silence, and melts into an exhausted whine as your hips wind down. Spencer (wisely) adjusts his position, letting go of your hand only so he can sit up as your thighs clamp shut hard. But he’s still pumping his fingers as you writhe, his own mouth hanging open and groaning as you mewl. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, ready to beg him to stop—but as usual, he knows your body better than you do. An orgasm that you had thought was on its way out gets a second life and you can’t even breathe as you feel it so deep within you, pinpointed to one spot of focus, that you have to curl in on yourself, keeling onto your side because it’s simply too intense.

Either your vision goes black or your eyes are simply closed—regardless, time ceases for an unquantifiable moment, and you come to with Spencer rubbing your back and murmuring your name.

“What did I do to you?” he laughs, not unkindly.

Your back arches as mild aftershocks trickle through your system.

“I don’t know,” you slur. “Dark magic.”

He allows himself to be pulled on top of you once more, and you tangle your hands in his hair again.

“But you’re okay?” he murmurs, using his dry hand to play with your hair and brush over your cheek.

“Mhm,” you nod, eyes fluttering shut once more. Then you laugh, sudden and unexpected to both of you. “I think. That was intense. I felt that one in my soul.”

You smile as he exhales a laugh against your skin.

“Okay,” Spencer sighs after you catch your breath, bumping his nose against yours before sitting up—this time, not allowing you to pull him back down. “I need to take a shower. You should come with me.”

“Five more minutes,” you mumble. He raises his eyebrows.

“But this is your last chance to wash my hair before it’s a whole inch shorter tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you laugh, but it turns deadly serious very quickly. “Spencer, I am not letting you cut a whole inch off your hair. I need that inch.”

“For what?” He snorts.

You smile big, glad he didn’t see your joke coming for once.

“Handles! Duh!”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic

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neptxn3 · 7 months ago

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Astrology Observations II

｡:ﾟ૮ ˶ˆ ﻌ ˆ˶ ა ﾟ:｡

Disclaimer, these are observations I have made through personal experience and thorough research, observations also vary depending on other natal placements involved

doesn’t resonate ≠ untrue

♅ Virgos tend to represent the trad wife far more than people assume taurus does, and that’s because Virgos ability to uphold their life (at least on the outside) tend to attract men who want a wife that can keep them on track

Some Virgo women tend to also attract gay men unfortunately 😭, again I think Virgos just seem like the perfect trad Wife and it will attract closeted men like flies. This isn’t to say all your partners will be closeted but the ones who are overly aggressive on your role in the relationship might be.

♅ Gemini moon children develop QUICKLY. These are usually the kids who weird you out with their extensive knowledge and self awareness that seemingly comes out of nowhere. The mercury influence allows them to digest many topics which in turn has Gemini moon children mentally developing at a faster pace than their peers

I’ve also observed Gemini moons are those annoying kids in your class that are a lot smarter and a bit condescending to others intelligence, not because that’s just the way they are, but their mercurial moon needs constant stimulation, and with a combination of their rapid growth you’ll see them climbing academic ranks which in turn can make them dislike school if they are not progressing at a speed they like.

♅ Scorpio moons have a tendency to see the worst in every situation/person which can be a nasty habit, but this isn’t out of judgment, rather they don’t like to give people the benefit of the doubt. They don’t like to be screwed over and their best bet is to think of the worst scenario possible.

♅ Aquarius Venus who are flaky in relationships and constantly cheat will eventually have karma handed back to them, usually in the form of being in their mid 40’s still single.

Aquarius Venus flaky reputation does stem from the fact that it is a Saturn influenced placement, as well as being fixed. It’s not that they hate any type of restriction to their freedom but rather to what extent you restrict them to. They can and will jump quickly into relationships but if they see any glimpse of possessive or controlling attributes they will leave. Again because it’s fixed and Saturn influenced Aquarius Venus knows once it settles down that’s it, they’re not going anywhere, that’s why they’re so scattered to find the right person who fits their criteria.

♅ Moon/Sun harshly aspecting Neptune is the embodiment of “I hate my Mom/Dad, but I love her/him too”. Neptune harshly aspecting these planets can cause a huge wall of misunderstanding between parent and child, but Neptune blurs the lines so deep that the individual sees them “through rose colored glasses” and if incapable of harboring hate. I would even say there could be nights where these people will look back and remember their past relationships (Neptune = Dreams)

♅ 10h placements can sometimes struggle maintaining relationships due to the very contradicting nature of the Midheaven and ascendant. Usually people will perceive them to be very different from who they actually are.

This is also why they struggle with their self esteem (the natural square to the ascendant). Sometimes they feel like they need to keep up an image to satisfy others and that isn’t someone who they truly are 🥲

In synastry this also points to partners trying to change who they are/make choices for them because they think it’s “for the best” or “what’s good for them”.

♅ Every Virgo rising I’ve met always gives me a small lesson on why astrology isn’t real but follow up with a “but can you read my chart I want to see if it’s true 👀”. I truly believe it’s the 12h Leo which makes them secretly a little self centered (hence the interest for things like astrology to attempt and figure themselves out) but the mercurial ascendant will always make them skeptical 😭

♅ Saturn conjunct Jupiter natives is a dangerous fire sometimes. I’ve noticed if they haven’t learned to balance this aspect in their chart, the people around them can suffer their warm and cold attitude. It’s almost as if one second you could be hysterically laughing in class together, and the next second they immediately stop and ask you to be serious and finish your work. WHERE DID THE VIBE GOOO?? The key here is moderation in whichever sign/house this is in

♅ Whoever said Neptune in hard aspect to Venus needs to practice saying positive affirmations (especially to Venus related topics) to themselves in the mirror was SO correct. Neptune indeed does reflect lies to you and reaffirming yourself in the mirror breaks that spell. I don’t think I’ve felt so beautiful since I started doing this.

#astrology #astrology observations #synastry #scorpio moon #neptune aspects #jupiter aspects #saturn aspects #aquarius venus #gemini moon #virgo rising #virgo #astro notes #astroblr

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tojikai · 1 year ago

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Sundered 7: TIES

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, mentions of sexual assault

word count: 6.0k

And he was happy. But never the happiest.

Naomi couldn’t count how many calls she had made but the wetness in her cheeks is proof of how frustrated she already is. “Please, pick up.” She bit the inner side of her cheeks, tapping her feet on the tiled floor. Naomi regrets what she did. She regretted that she still proceeded despite knowing how wrong it was.

She warned herself not to be greedy at the beginning of their relationship. She remembered telling him they’d take it step by step, not rushing anything because they were determined to make it work. Now that she’s thinking about it, maybe he’s only determined because he wanted to forget about you so badly.

“Mom, please. He threw me out.” Naomi spoke on the phone, tapping her feet as she stood in the middle of her room with her things around her. She took all the things necessary and left. Satoru would probably put everything she left in the trash but that’s the least of her concern right now. She lost everything she had with Satoru and it’s all because of her stupidity.

“What did you expect? You sexually assaulted my son and you want me to help you?” The woman hissed at her. Naomi was naive; thinking that she’ll have her back just because she wanted her for Satoru. “If anything I could even get you arrested—” She began but Naomi was quick to defend herself.

“You’re part of this. Didn’t you basically tell me to use a child to keep your son?!” Tears of anger pooled in her eyes as her hands shook in fear, fury, and heartbreak. Naomi remembered when Satoru’s mom would free her schedule so she could spend time with him and Yui. She would suggest activities and let Naomi tag along and that’s how they started to fall for each other.

Or rather, that’s how she started to fall for him while he just wanted an escape.

“But I never told you to do that to my son! Naomi, do you really think someone would side with you on this?” Every corner of Naomi’s room felt like they were closing in on her, ready to squeeze her till she was nothing but dust. Of course, no one would be with her. No matter what Satoru’s mother told her, she still chose to follow it so the blame’s on her.

“For someone who finished school with flying colors, your mind is dull.” She chuckled, letting Naomi hear all she truly is. “You got a pretty face, you know? That’s another reason why you caught Satoru’s eyes easily.” At that point, Naomi didn’t know if it was still a compliment. She’s pretty and kind, and smart and perfect for him, like she said. But why can’t she have all of him?

“But I’m afraid that pretty face would be useless now. If I were you I’d go start over alone somewhere far.” She clicked her tongue, cutting Naomi’s thoughts off every time she tried to voice them out. “Like, imagine graduating only to get jailed over some dumb, desperate shit? Naomi, you screwed up. And that’s why you lost all chances with my son.”

Naomi shook her head, the warmness of her emotions dampened the smooth skin of her face. “No, you made me…” She breathed out, covering her mouth before running her fingers through her hair. “I didn’t want to do that…No.” She bawled and bawled but the line only went more and more silent.

She fucked up and she’s right. The shame and the loss of self-respect are not something she could live through in this city. She must go, she must leave. Like how they always did when she was a kid; fleeing the scene with her embarrassment of a family who can’t live without humiliating them. They have no decent source of living so they gotta strive.

Now, she’s doing all of it again, all while losing all of it. Again.

“Save yourself. I won’t let them know of your plan. After all, you were once of help to my child. I’m truly sorry.” With that, the call ended; with Naomi sitting on the floor as she put a balled hand over her throbbing chest, and the thought of going away to start as someone new settled in the middle of her head. Naomi learned a lot from all the troubles she went through.

This time, she learned that you could have someone's body but their heart could still be somewhere else.

—-------------------------------------------------

“What is it?” Satoru heard through the phone speaker. Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes, letting relief flood his veins and calm his shaking flesh. “When are you free?” There was a long pause before Satoru’s father replied, “You know I can make time.” Clearing his throat, Satoru massaged his temples, thanking the heavens that his nightmares weren’t real.

“Let’s meet later if that’s alright.” He whispered, scared that his voice would break. Satoru knows that he is the only link between the relationship of his parents. Just like how his older brother would’ve been the connection his father was hoping to keep his first, real love close. Until they got tired of it all; the matters brought by his mother. And him.

Just like how she drained Satoru out. And right now he just wanted to run away from her too.

“Of course, just send me the exact time.” Satoru nodded as if his father could see him, “Are you alright?” He asked after a few seconds as if sensing the trouble from his son’s voice. “Yeah, much better now, at least.” Satoru rubbed his eyes as he shook his head, eyeing the negative results of the vaginal swab test. “Dad, Mom can’t know.”

He’s almost sure that the request would prompt questions from his father, knowing that he’s aware of how close he is to his Mom. But he was surprised when he simply agreed, murmuring an “Okay.” before letting his son end the call. Satoru pictured him on his office chair as he nodded away, brows furrowed with worry like he always is when it comes to family matters.

When Satoru was a child, his nanny would tell him that his father wasn’t always so workaholic when his ex-wife was still there, co-parenting with him. After she ran away and left, his father started to immerse himself in work more. He knows that he tried with his mother since they were already there and married. But it was just never the same.

His father was happy with them. But he could never be the happiest again.

Leaning back on the chair, he put a hand over his eyes and let his frustrations stream down his cheeks. He let out a shaky sigh, grabbing the papers before looking at them in a brighter light. It’s negative. Nothing happened. You woke him up just in time. He tapped on Naomi’s contact, quickly typing his last message before attaching a photo of the results.

‘I’m mailing the rest of your things tomorrow.’ It only took a minute for her to respond with an apology but Satoru doesn’t care anymore to read it. He blocked the number as soon as he made sure that she received and read the message. He doesn’t want to be anywhere near her.

He knows he is wrong for not telling her about his feelings as soon as he can. But that doesn’t equal what she did to him and what she almost got them into. Satoru checked the clock before sending the time to his father, hoping to end all of this mess before the mess ended him.

His mother has been calling him nonstop, and he always had to pretend that he was not home during the previous days. He stayed in watching movies with his little girl, sending you videos and pictures every now and then. He slept in her room during those days, a desperate attempt to calm his brain down. His head hurts from overthinking.

Putting the papers back into the envelope, Satoru took it with him to his room. He made sure to put it in his bedside drawer, just in case some other shit comes up. If this happened before, he’d probably think that Naomi is not that kind of person. But after what she did to him, all of the trust and admiration she has for her went to waste.

Changing into something more comfortable, Satoru tried to take a quick nap. He doesn’t want to look this tired when he meets his father. He’d probably convince him to get a general checkup just to make sure that nothing was wrong. Satoru knows that if it weren’t for him, his father wouldn’t ever put up with his mom. He’d probably spend his whole life searching for his ex-wife.

A few hours of nap felt like nothing because when Satoru woke up, he still felt tired. The only difference is his heartbeat doesn’t sound like it’s trying to come out of his chest anymore unlike when he was waiting for the results. A little progress is still progress; just like how he’s trying to make it all up to you.

If Satoru’s being honest, he’d fall down to his knees and beg you to take him back if you asked him to do it. The only thing stopping him is his brain telling him how happy you are right now and how he wouldn’t want to destroy that. He can’t force himself to stop thinking about you but he can force himself to move on if it’s for you.

Satoru leaned his elbows on the kitchen counter, reading a text from his father saying that he was on his way. Another text was from you; it was a picture of Yui holding up a coloring book and a crayon. He was just with her earlier but he misses her already. He wondered if he could visit when he doesn’t have other things to do even if it’s not his schedule yet.

Sending a response with a small smile on his face, Satoru heard the doorbell ring, signaling his father’s arrival. He peeked through the spaces of his window curtains to ensure that it was him before opening the door. Satoru’s still unsure of what he’ll say but he hopes that his father can give him a better solution.

Satoru thought that if he ever cut ties with his mother, it’d be for you and Yui’s safety. He didn’t think that it’d be for him too. “Dad,” He gave his father a hug as he stepped in, following his son as they walked to his house. “What’s going on?” He asked as soon as Satoru closed the door. They walked to the kitchen, settling on one of the barstools.

“It’s because of mom…” He began, placing a glass pitcher atop the counter.

—---------------------------------------

“Smile~ We’ll send this to Dada.” You cooed, pointing at the camera as you tried to take a picture of your daughter. At first, she didn’t want to do it, wanting nothing but to play with her book and crayons but when she heard that her Dad wanted to know about it, she got real creative with the pose. “You don’t listen to Mama, anymore.” You pouted at her as you hit send.

She scrunched her nose, sticking out her tongue at you before picking on her colors. You still can’t forget how dead Satoru looked when he dropped Yui off. You wondered what he talked about with his mother that caused him to be like that. Even with the soft tone of his voice, you could hear roughness that probably came from the lack of sleep.

If it concerns you, then you definitely have to know. His mother probably said something bad about you, but you doubt that it’s affecting Satoru by how he was talking and looking at you. He just looked so done with all of it, but even so, there was still a tender look in his eyes when they met yours.

You sighed while looking at your phone as you waited for a text from Toji. He’s been so busy with work lately, you’re just glad that you already talked about your problems. You had a feeling that it wouldn’t end well had it stayed unsaid for a couple more days. It wasn’t completely back to normal, but at least, you’re both trying to make it better for each other.

“I would try,” He whispered to your ear as he hugged you from behind, “I can’t promise not to think of her–“ You turned around, looking up at him with a solemn look in your eyes, “I’m not asking you to not think of her, that’d be selfish of me.” He nodded, kissing your forehead, “Alright, what I mean is, I won’t make any comparisons.” You hummed.

“I need you to stop worrying about Satoru and I.” You put your head on his chest, “I know it’s easier said than done, but I just want you to know that I am with you.” Your fingers traced figured on his skin, “I’m keeping that in mind.” He placed his cheek on top of your head, sighing deeply as he let go of you.

“I’m taking Megumi to my Mom’s.” He pushed your hair back with his fingers, making your eyes flutter close as you felt his face get closer to yours and his breath ghosting on your lips. “I’ll see you later.” He pecked your lips, “Take care, I love you.” He murmured as he gave you a long kiss, before turning to get their stuff.

One thing that you notice about Toji is that he never waits for you to say anything back. You don’t want to take the words lightly, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t feel the same way as him. You still have a long way to go, and you don’t want to rush anything. When you mention it to him, he just says that he needs you to hear it.

“Mama, look!” Your daughter pulled you out of your head as she showed you a picture of a cat, “Dada buy Yui.” You looked closely at the picture, laughing as you realized that she was talking about the cake that they ate. “Yeah, you're right! That's what Dada bought you!.” You patted her head as she giggled.

“Yui, baby. Did meemaw come to see you?” You held her small hands, trying to keep her attention to you. “No. No meemaw.” She pulled at your hair gently, trying to color it with her crayons. “What about…what about Naomi?” You can’t help but chuckle as she pretended to think, eyes looking up as she pouted her lip.

“No Naomi!” Her answer gave you a bit of an insight. You would assume that maybe she was just busy, but hearing about how Satoru’s mother reduced her workload made you doubt it. Satoru sent you tons of pictures during his time with her but you thought that Naomi just wasn’t in the frame.

If the ‘talk’ between her and Satoru didn’t end well, you could only assume that he already told her about it. He’s probably down because he wouldn’t want to hurt her like that. With all the progress Satoru has made, you doubt that he’d be so happy to have broken a heart. She was still once a friend to him.

A heavy feeling settles in the middle of your chest, like an anchor weighing your heart down, thinking about how his mother would probably find a reason to drag you for it. But if that’s the case, you’re sure that Satoru wouldn’t let harm come to you.

With how gentle Naomi was, you couldn’t think of a worse thing to happen.

——————————————

“What did she do this time?” His father looked away, clicking his tongue. If one would ask Satoru, his parents would’ve probably divorced years ago if it weren’t for him. His father knows how he is with his mother, and the thought of giving him a hard time switching between the two of them pained him.

Satoru wished that he thought about it too before he decided to go and selfishly start over with someone else. Your words the night he confessed to you echoed in his head. He came to a realization that you probably wanted to ask him to come back but held yourself back as he let you know how happy he was with Naomi.

And he was happy. But just like his father, he was never the happiest.

“I don’t really know how to open this up to you…” He bit his lip, “…But I just want this to be over, Dad.” Satoru felt so vulnerable at that moment. The only time he had a talk this serious with his Dad was when he found out about your pregnancy. It was just more of a news, unlike right now, which is a call for help.

“Naomi…Mom and Naomi talked about…” His father’s eyes coaxed him as if sensing his distress. “Naomi tried to…” Shaking his head, Satoru breathed out. “Naomi wanted to conceive. Because our relationship was falling apart.” He can see his Dad’s brows pull together to a scowl, probably getting a hint of what happened.

“She talked to Mom about it and she…” The man sat up straight, bouncing his leg like he already knew what his wife did. “She said Mom brought up the thing about how you and him got together.”It was hard to talk about this to his father, knowing how sensitive it can be for him. “Naomi told me about it. I recorded it, just in case—”

“Satoru, what did your girlfriend do?” Satoru looked down, fingers fidgeting like he was a kid again. “And your mother’s involved? What happened?” Rubbing his face, Satoru threw away all his fears. If he’s not going to fix these problems, then who will? “She got me drunk, and then she tried to sleep with me.” He blinked fast, watching his father’s face.

“I heard her talking to Mom on the phone, and I took it from her. That’s how I found out that she played a part in all of it.” It was hard for him to accept. The person he used to protect, the one he always tried to understand was the same person who betrayed and put him in this position; the position that also made his father the person he is today.

Another long silence surrounded them. His father’s hand was balled into a fist, covering his mouth as he blankly stared at the marble surface. “Where’s Naomi?” His father pulled out his phone, and Satoru could tell just what he was about to do. “I don’t know. I’m sending her things away. I’m cutting her off. I’m filing a protective order against her and mom–“

Satoru didn’t get to finish his sentence before his father spoke again, probably finally taking in the information he just provided him. “I’m divorcing your mother.” His mouth fell half-open. His voice was low, serious, and full of all the grief that he’s been feeling for years ever since he lost his first wife and son. “And I’m sending that woman to jail.” He added, raising a finger.

“There’s…I don’t want that.” He breathed out, earning a questioning look from his dad. “You don’t have to send her to jail. I…I messed up if I just told her that I still have feelings for Y/N, then she wouldn’t have resorted to that. She wouldn’t have talked to Mom and this wouldn’t have happened.” He stood up, leaning on the counter as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Satoru thought about it too when he caught her in the act. But after some reflection, he realized his shortcomings, his mistake of not just telling her about what was really going on. Even though there was no excuse for what she did, Satoru can’t help but feel like he’s the one who caused all of this to happen. And he probably really is; a victim of his foolish choices.

“But other than that, I don’t want Y/N and Yui to be caught up in this. I don’t want to expose them to this kind of problem, they’ve been through so much because of me already. I just want to do better this time.” Thinking about dragging you into another mess made Satoru feel weak. He promised to make it up to you, and he’d do anything to prove that.

His father put his phone down on the table, taking in a deep breath just to calm himself. “But you’re not stopping me from divorcing your mother.” Satoru doesn’t know if it’s right to agree to that. It felt like he was encouraging the separation of his parents; celebrating his mother’s heartbreak.

But his father’s been suffering heartbreak for years. It’s only fair to set him free.

“It’s up to you. I…” Satoru shook his head, sure of the decision he was about to make. “...I don’t think I can just forgive and forget what she did. It’s not something small, and I’m not a kid anymore, Dad.” His eyes itched, ready to let his tears go any minute. “I don’t even know if I still want to be associated with her.” He turned away, sighing as he blinked away his pain.

When he and Naomi went for the examination, he made her spill all the details regarding the said conversation with his mother. It took everything in him not to fly into a rage while breaking down as he heard of it. All this time, his mother saw him as a pawn to keep his father, regardless of whose life she was tearing down; Satoru’s, his father's ex-wife, and his first son.

“I wanted to take you away when you were a kid.” His father admitted, looking ahead as he reminisced of the decisions he made. “I wanted to just take you and raise you with your brother. Of course, with the hopes of getting my ex-wife back.” He leaned back, tapping on the screen of his phone. The bitter tone in his voice can’t be missed.

“That was my plan when I found out about you. But when you were about a year and a half old, she disappeared. All I knew was she was…tired; drained of all the chaos that our son and her were exposed to. What with having to co-parent with me as I was with your mother.” His eyes played the emotions he chose to hide away many years ago.

“I know you know about this. She and I got divorced. I thought it was over for us, I thought I made the right decision to turn away and try another start. And I was dating your mother. Then we had you.” His arms were crossed and Satoru could almost see the similarities between his feelings to how he used to feel about yours and his relationship.

“Then, realization came running for me; haunting me in my sleep. I was ready to get her back again, but it was too late. She was already gone.” Satoru absently poured water for his Dad, listening intently to his story. “So, I felt like the only thing to do was to marry your Mom. I reminded myself that still have you, I can’t just spiral down.” He smiled at Satoru.

“I tried to convince, tried to brainwash myself that it’d be fine. That I could learn to love her and I did. Just not the kind of love that lovers have.” If his mother could hear his Dad right now, she’d get shattered. Satoru doesn’t want to see that, but she would have to. She has to understand that she’s putting this man through.

“I loved her because she loves me; because she cares for you and me.” Leaning over to pick up his glass, he looked his son in the eyes. “But true love is unconditional, Satoru. It should not have a reason.” He took a sip, pursing his lips before continuing. “Reasons might vanish, and when it does, so will the love you feel for that person.”

In the middle of it all, Satoru could only think of you. Why does he love you? When did he realize that he loves you? How did it happen? He doesn’t have an answer for it. He cannot find a reason for it. He doesn’t remember loving you just because you put up with him, he doesn’t remember falling for you just because of the life you created together.

All that he knows is that one day, he woke up and he already knew that he was in love with you. Like he’s been doing it for years; like that’s all he’s ever known.

—-------------------------------------------------

“I’ll keep in contact with you regarding the proceedings.” Satoru’s father spoke on the phone, stepping inside his mansion and smiling at his helpers. He asked Satoru if he wanted to have a word with his mother but the thought of having to look at her after what she tried to make his ex-girlfriend do makes him feel dizzy.

“Honey, you’re home.” The woman tried to welcome him with a kiss and open arms but he quickly turned his head, rejecting her. “Come up to my office, we got something to talk about.” The mask of a loving wife was quickly covered with fear and dread.

“What about in our room? So, you can rest.” She nodded her head once, trying to coax him but he was tired of closing his eyes and numbing his heart from feeling the pain and regret of having to lose the love of his life for the comfort that this woman offered him before. “In my office. It’s not a small matter that I could sleep on.”

Leaving the woman baffled, he made his way upstairs, not waiting for her to walk beside him. There was a deafening silence in the big room, save from the footsteps of her husband and the door of his office slamming with such force that it sent a crack in her heart.

She took a deep breath and ran her palm on top of her dress, thinking of all the reasons she could give him just to prove her innocence. She didn’t want any of that to happen. She didn't think that Naomi could be so dumb as to come up with such a heinous and unpleasant plan.

That wasn’t even what she did to Satoru’s father. It was just working to keep them together. And that’s why Satoru came.

With her found determination, she held her head high. Swallowing the terror rising up her throat as she let her thoughts convince her that she did nothing wrong. She never explicitly told Naomi to do that, she’s the one who schemed that. There’s nothing to be afraid of.

She walked up the stairs, caressing the smooth, cold surface of the handrail. Satoru wouldn't allow anything to happen to her. He’s her boy, her pride and joy. He’s the only ally she had when his father was openly pushing her away.

Satoru wouldn’t just ruin what she and his father had because of baseless information from his sick girlfriend. Entering the office, the man sat on his swivel chair. Forehead pressed to the heel of his hand. “What is it, dear?” She smiled sweetly at her husband, appearing unaware of what he had in mind.

Oh, how she wished she was just unaware of it all. She wished that she didn't know what the problem was. She wished it wasn’t what she thought it was and that she was just overthinking because of how– “I want a divorce.” Those four words halted the spinning of her world.

“What?” She raised her brows, checking if it was just her mind playing tricks on her and making her hallucinate. “I want a divorce. And I want it as soon as possible.” His eyes no longer held any emotions towards her; no sadness, bitterness, fading love. None. Not even pity.

“Listen, honey, I didn’t think that Naomi would do–“ She took quick steps towards him, hoping to get him to listen. “So, you knew about it?” He glared at her, “You knew about it and you didn’t tell me anything?” He shook his head, and she could only open her mouth.

“Doesn’t matter. Satoru told me everything.” He stood up from his seat, towering over her as he stared her down. “It’s nothing like that–“ She breathed out, panicking. “I’m not really interested in what you told Naomi. I’m just thankful that my son’s safe.” He stepped away from her.

“What I want to do right now, is to be free from this.” It’s over for her. All the alibis that she was composing, thinking of for this moment are useless. He doesn’t need an explanation, this was simply the final push that he needed to kick her out of his life. And probably out of Satoru’s too.

“Please, don’t do this. We’re already too old to–“ She tried to grab his hand and he only grabbed it with the other to put it away. “You’re right. We’re too old, our son’s too old for me to still pretend that we want to be in this position.” Shaking her head, she stepped in front of him, blocking his way. “Please, listen. I wouldn’t do something that could harm–“

“I know,” His voice was calm. “Of course, to harm him wasn’t your intention, right?” She nodded eagerly, thinking that he was finally listening to her. “But you wanted to decide for him. You got in between him and Y/N, then pushed this woman on him because you thought you knew best for your son.” Tears fell down her eyes, and she lost all hope.

“Now, look at what you did to him.” He gritted his teeth, stepping forward to get her out of his way. “But this is not just about our son anymore. This is also about me, finally choosing to do what I should’ve done a long time ago.” Opening the door, he spoke to her one last time. “All you have to do is sign. The actions that your son will take is all up to him.”

With that, he left her with all of the nightmares of their past coming back. How he only wanted the best for his sons, how he wanted to take full custody of Satoru, how he wanted to get back together with his ex-wife, and how he only married her because she was gone. She was never the first option. She was never the original pick.

She wasn’t chosen, she just happened to be already there.

—————————————

“Hey,” You heard Satoru speak as Toji opened the door for him, nodding. This was kind of similar to how they first saw each other but you’re just glad that this time, it’s a lot calmer. Megumi ran to his father, peeking up at Satoru as he waved at him.

“Yui, your Dada’s here.” Toji left the door open to let Satoru in. Megumi was holding onto his pants, staring back at Satoru. “Yui Dada,” He picked his toy up, staring at a distance before walking closer to him. “Blue!” You laughed from the kitchen, as you packed some snacks for the little girl.

Today, you’re going to the zoo as Yui requested. The animal drawings from her coloring book got her asking you to call her Dada late at night, just to babble about it. “He’s referring to your eyes,” Toji spoke as he went back to the living room to pick up some of the toys.

“Megumi, it’s not good to point at people, what did I tell you?” He warned the toddler as he went back to your room, eyes meeting yours as you made your way to Yui's room. “Ah, yes. Yui and I have the same eyes.” Satoru smiled at the child.

“Dada!” Yui ran towards him, stomping her shoes extra hard to show him how they light up with dancing colors. “Woah! Did Mama buy you those shoes?” He opened his arms, urging the little girl to run to him and she happily did, giggling as she nodded. “It’s awesome!” You smiled at how he tried to flatter his child, encouraging her to do a little jump.

“Where are we going today?” You asked her in a playful tone as you put the lunch bags on the coffee table in front of them. “Zoo!” You watched a Satoru give her a sincere smile, patting her hair gently while complimenting her little butterfly clips. “I’m sure Megumi’s been to the zoo before.” He poked the little boy's tummy.

“Yeah. Animals. Bears and lions.” He stood behind you, peeking at Satoru as he talked. Megumi isn’t usually shy, but he doesn’t easily warm up to people. “We went there on his second birthday.” You almost jumped at Toji’s voice behind you as he picked up his child. “He’s a smart kid.” Satoru answered with a friendly smile.

“You guys should come. If you want..” It surprised you that he was initiating something like that. Although, you know that Toji wouldn’t be so comfortable with that and would most likely reject the offer, it’s still nice to see that Satoru’s trying to make an effort to get along with him.

“That’d be nice but his grandma's waiting for him,” Toji answered, chuckling awkwardly. “Dada work,” Megumi added, earning a hum from his Dad. Making sure that the bag is packed with everything Yui needs, you zipped it up. “You ready to go now?” You tapped the toddler’s cheek, feeling Satoru’s gaze at you.

“Alright, let’s get going.” Standing up with his daughter in his arms, he took the bag from your hands. He put the toddler down to hug her friend goodbye, before walking hand in hand with her outside. You laughed at how she kept squealing with each step she took, looking up to see her Dad’s reaction.

“You guys have fun, alright? I’ll just lock the doors before we go.” Toji pulled you to him, giving you a kiss. “I’ll be back later.” You put your hand around his neck, standing on your tippy toes before pecking his neck. With that, you walked out the door to join your toddler who was patiently waving at you from her car seat.

“Okay, it’s zoo time!” You wiggled your brows at her as you slammed the door shut, making her giggle. You checked your face in the mirror, trying to ignore Satoru’s soft eyes as he watched you. “How are you?” You tried to start a conversation but it was quickly interrupted as you searched around for your daughter’s binky.

“Maybe we left it inside,” Satoru spoke, opening Yui’s bag to help you find it. “Yui, where did you put it?” Remembering how she placed it on the coffee table as she showed off her outfit to her father, you started to unbuckle your seatbelts but Satoru stopped you. “It’s alright, I’ll get it.” He was already stepping out of the car before you could stop him.

Satoru jogged up your steps, knocking a few times before proceeding to open the door. Toji was just about to open it for him when he entered, “It’s Yui’s pacifier. She left it.” He put on the most polite smile he could muster, wanting nothing but to get rid of the awkwardness between them if they were both going to be in your life.

“Oh, alright. I thought it was someone else.” Toji let out a rather awkward chuckle, not knowing how else to react or what else to say. But just as Satoru uttered ‘thanks’, Toji remembered the thing he’s been thinking of for almost a week now. “Uh, Satoru,” He called, making him pause as he held the door open.

Her brows raised, waiting for him to say something. Toji doesn’t know if you’d be happy about this but it’s better than just letting his feelings, thoughts, and opinions all pile up inside of him. This is for you and Yui. Not just for him.

“I’ve been thinking about our situation with Y/N and… I was wondering if you could set aside a bit of your time for a chat?”

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