#give him an office meet cute ))
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I CALLED IT
#tsou#tsou spoilers#ok tbh dr Wisanu always seems so fruity to me since the beginning#he probably hasn't realized it yet#but what made me go hm was how he's so far from pushy toward Lada#even though their relationship is pretty much fixed bc Lada's mom is soo hellbent marrying her off to him#but so far he mostly meet Lada in professional setting#like “hey so my office has this event we could go together” yadda yadda#its okay to assume that he doesnt want to push too hard knowing Lada is NOT into him#and that he respects Lada's boundaries which is really good#but I always thought that a straight man would at least try to invite Lada to a dinner or something#I joked to my friend that dr Wisanu and Lada should get married for convenience#they would make a great business partner and get all the benefits anyway#when he could be so respectful like this I dont see a downside to that#aside from they both cant be seen too intimate with their REAL partner outside of course#but they're both rich and powerful or whatever so they could come up with something ah#also yes I ship dr Tan and dr Wisanu since the very BEGINNING#I think they could be cute together#I WAS RIGHT#im so fluent in gay stuff and this series giving all the gays what we want anyway
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mmmm ;) simon has got a special eye on single-mom!reader, doesn't he? (18+, lactation kink, daddy kink, breeding kink, dark content !!!!)
it's your first day back after maternity leave. you already look different, simon notices this immediately. the way you fill out your cargo pants--fuck, there's no way your arse has ever looked so fat. no way your thighs have ever been so plush--ngghhh...
fuck, you've never been prettier. motherhood suits you. your hair is longer. your eyes are a little brighter. and fuck, your tits look so heavy, can't keep his eyes off of them, can't fucking focus, fuck, fuck, fuck--
you look so cute patching him up. pouty bottom lip between your teeth as you string his lacerated skin back together with a practiced stitch, standing between his spread legs as he sits in a chair in your office. he nicked his shoulder real well in training today, and fuck, is he grateful for johnny's heavy hand because you're standing over him, and he has a front-row seat to the greatest view of his fucking life.
christ, they practically jiggle with every movement you make. you pop the cap off some disinfectant, and the little bounce of your chest makes him chub up immediately, and he doesn't trust the buckle of his belt anymore because you're so fucking hot. and god, it isn't fair, this isn't fair, you must be teasing him--because as he's staring shamelessly at your pretty, perky nipples, he notices the fabric of your shirt beginning to grow damp.
you notice his line of sight after you tie off his wound. you look down, gasping, your hands dropping your supplies to come up and cup your breasts and cover the wetness of your shirt.
"god--dammit," you breathe. you haven't gotten a chance to pump today, it's been so busy in the clinic, and god, they ache.
you're his sergeant. his pretty little soldier. he just wants to help you. he's just helping you, isn't he? that's what this is when he draws his big hands up, shifting your shirt until it nestles below your nursing bra. he's just helping you when he unlatches the strap with ease, drawing down the soft material and baring your tits for him, his eyes bulging when he sees how wet the skin is, how they glisten.
his mouth is so warm. it's the perfect relief after such a long day. his tongue is soft and careful, swirling in heated circles as he soothes the ache in the throbbing fat there. you're so wet--soaking your panties, you know you are, your hormones firing wildly as he pulls back, opening his mouth and catching just a dribble of the warm essence that leaks from one breast. finally, finally--fuck, he's so good at this, his mouth latching onto you again as he groans loudly. he's so sick, it's so fucking lewd, but god dammit, it's just what you need, you need this, you need this.
he likes you like this. he likes you fat around the hips and leaking from your tits and spilling sweetness into your panties. he needs to keep you this way. he needs to keep you pretty and aching and starving for the relief that he knows he can give you.
he doesn't care whose kid it is, he wants to keep you this way. he'd let johnny or gaz fuck you stupid after this if it meant plugging you up and making you full and beautiful and round again. he's never wanted kids anyway, he knows he probably shoots blanks, it's why you got pregnant so fast after he shut the door on your relationship and refused to open it again, isn't it?
nnghghhgh...
fuck, his pants are already shoved low, just enough that he can pull himself out. he's so heavy, balls so full and aching so badly, he's hardly slapping against his stomach. you slip your own trousers off, eager to get back into his lap, practiced pretty girl sinking down onto him and riding him for her life in the dark of her office.
he buries his face into your chest. they're bouncing every time you smack your hips back down against his, and he can't stop the noises he's making as he suckles your tits in his mouth and uses a firm grip on your ass to meet your thrusts with force. fuck, he'd forgotten what a nice cunt you had--he'd forgotten how nice and soft you are, how messy and wet you get, how whenever he fucks you, his entire pelvis is always soaked with the slick of you because you can never stop creaming on his cock.
"so big," you babble, just like you used to, and he grunts as he aims for that little spot inside of you that makes you cry. he wants to see those pretty tears falling down your face, but all it took this time was his tongue sucking on your achy nipples to make you pouty and sobbing.
fuck, you've always been good at taking him, you always were such a good girl, but now he's overwhelmed. your body is so different and yet the same, and he likes it so much more--fuck, there's so much to grab onto now, the smacking of your skin is loud, and you've always been such a wet girl, but now you're positively dripping. he grits his teeth as he looks down finally, watching the way you've wet his trousers, his boxers, your thighs, the goddamn chair. he can't wait to lay you down after this and put his head between your thighs, can't wait to get those tits back in his mouth and make you cry again and again and again and again--
yeah, yeah, yeah--fuck, fuck, fuck--
you collapse after he cums. whimpering, taking two of his fingers and fitting them into your mouth so you have something to suck on, something you always used to do for comfort. he hisses a little as he pulls out just a little, globs of cum dribbling onto the seat before he eases you back down again. you whine, clinging onto him, your eyes shutting as he shoves his cum practically into your stomach.
yeah, fuck--he's gonna make his little sergeants take you nice after this. he needs you to stay like this, needs to keep you fat and pretty and swollen. don't mind the chunky babies you'll have, he'll take care of you, sweetheart, he'll be the daddy that son of a bitch never gave you, yeah?
he grabs the phone nearest to him to check the time as you settle on wobbly legs into the seat next to him. it must be your phone, because there's a picture of a smiling baby as the background. his eyes flicker to yours, and when you catch his gaze, you swallow hard. there's a giant chubby baby you're holding in that picture.
with blond hair and dark eyes (;
#he's so daddy idk#and he definitely makes fat babies you can't convince me otherwise#makes huge ass babies that split you in half#but he's so hot so you're just like do it again (;#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon thoughts#dark!ghost
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JAILBREAK. — SUGURU GETO. ☆
synopsis. you hate your job as a part time correctional officer. things change once you have to “babysit” one of the dangerous criminals of the a-block floor, suguru geto. but girl, maybe sleeping with an egotistical cocky ass inmate might have been your biggest mistake yet.
wc. 5.5k
warnings. modern au, fem!reader, pwp, inmate geto, corruption kink, degradation, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, geto has a tongue piercing, hair pulling, praise, overstim, reader’s kinda delulu
an. thank uuu @osaemu for beta readin someee!! inmate geto is my new hyperfixation omge
it was as if each shift became longer and longer, your daily occupation, nothing special, nothing fancy, just a correctional officer at some high maintenance prison near the city.
the stench of musk and sweat wafted around you, such a reoccurrence that it was practically normal. it was around midnight, as how most of your shifts were, and as you trod towards the secluded darkened space for only the inmates dangerous to themselves and others, you intake a breath before swiping your key near your hip, preparing to unlock the glass-like metal steel door.
“oh,” you close the door behind you, and that familiar deep voice does something to you.
what…?
you don’t know, but it had such bass in it, you turned to face the inmate, no one other than suguru geto. “…yo,” he mocks, giving you a sly head nod, his eyes scan up and down your body, your uniform and then your own meets his pursed lips. somehow, he managed to find a cigarette. again. “hmpf. they got the newbie watchin' me again? you do know that gun on your hip isn’t a toy, right?”
your eyebrows twitch, and your facial expressions formed into a deadpan as you walked towards him with his daily meal in hand. “yeah and i’m not afraid to use it on you if necessary.”
“ooh. rookie’s got jokes, that’s cute.” he grins.
you murmured, and he only smiles, he knows you didn’t mean that, he pissed you off, even if he wasn’t saying anything exactly. pulling out your staff notepad checklist of where you usually kept track of all the inmates attendance and meals, you uttered, “but anyways…” you blowed, “no one fed you today, suguru. you must be starving.”
“yeah, 'm starvin’ ‘n more ways than you can imagine, princess,” geto hums, and you suddenly freeze once the inmate stands up firm and tall. he’s just so damn big—broad wide shoulders, long slight shaggy dark toned hair, and with a split-second gaze, you look near geto’s orange jumpsuit. the bulge, yeah you spotted that immediately, but his tattoos…
his fucking tattoos.
“can you at least try to behave for a few minutes.” you sighed, and he's already getting on your last nerve. he could tell too…and damn was he was just getting nothing but pure amusement from your sheer irritation.
“eh, depends,” he speaks in a low gruff, his attention was on you and only you, raising his darkened thin arched brows before his lips converge into a witty smirk. “ya gonna feed me my food, babe? oh, you should know. poor inmate like me can’t feed myself when i’m all,” and he pauses while speaking, placing his hands in his lap — giving his wrists a slight shimmy and you hear the metal dance against his skin. “…handcuffed.”
it took everything within you to not smack this arrogant suave bastard, geto flirted with you whatever chance he got, with no shame either. you’re a pretty girl, well mannered, yet never took anyone’s shit, he liked that about you.
your job wasn’t to be taken lightly, it could be considered scary at times with the various inmates you have to deal on a day to day basis, but simply, you were just a girl with an attitude. but he wasn’t fond of brats, especially brats like you.
“…fine,” you mumbled, making your way towards him. he sat on the steel uncomfortable bed that was as usual, never made. geto practically lived in solitary confinement, they don’t call him the suguru geto for a reason. his name was known amongst many, he was feared worldwide. geto wasn’t exactly a good guy, far from it actually.
he’s a criminal and his record was… definitely spine chilling to say the least. “don’t try anything, just open your mouth.”
“hm, alright then.” he happily complies, his demeanor changes just a bit, and he’s more playful. geto opens his mouth just slightly and you spot tiny dimples form near the corners of his lips, and you gradually stick the spoon into his mouth, feeding him whatever food was made for the inmates of the night.
baked mash potatoes, geto stated it was one of his favorites and you just so happened to remember. a smile forms on his lips as you feed him. your eyes darted towards him, and now he’s just staring intimately at you.
that smirk that forever rested against his pink thinly parted lips.
“m-mhm.” he grunts, and your eyes widen just a bit, he was messing with you, and you don’t even realize geto’s got his hand gripped on your waist. stroking a thumb against your belt, you felt the feeling of him rubbing all against the firearm that was strapped tightly on you.
before you could smack his hand, geto swiftly brings you on top of his lap, stealing out a gasp from you at how quick he was with his movements. the silver spoon sticks out his mouth before you take it out, only to return him with an irritated glare.
“what do you think you’re doing?” you uttered, growing quite embarrassed yet trying to maintain a level-head.
“told ya,” he grumbles, swiping a tongue against the excess mash potatoes that remained near his lips. “i’m hungry, babe. that was good, but i’m not satisfied. i need more.”
“inmates in solitary confinement aren’t allowed to have seco—”
“pretty girl, you know what i’m talkin’ about,” geto chuckles, and you shiver a bit from feeling the soft pads of his thumb brush against the belt of your waist again. you were in uniform but this entire position was so dirty. not to mention, it’s not like this place of the prison was exactly secluded. it was, but there was bound to be people were walking by. “i’ve been seein’ the way you stare at me.”
he was just infuriating, but you didn’t know how to reply so…you didn’t. you just sat there on the inmate’s lap, with a quite dumb expression and he’s just eating it up. “geto—”
“it’s just you ‘n me, girl,” he slyly whispers, and his voice drops just a bit as he stops you from speaking. his touch against your waist just gave you more and more goosebumps. all the way up until you felt it. geto infamous boner that hid beneath his jumpsuit. he’s been incarcerated for at least three years now, in and out. he was for sure horny. you could just tell from his seductive gaze. “don’t gotta be shy. was waiting for you to show up if ‘m being honest. you’re not like the rest, y’know?”
that’s when you gasp, realizing his handcuffs were off — he must have took the key from your pocket, because he was just feeling you up now. you let off a surprised noise once you felt geto starting to make you grind against his lap, feeling his hefty bulge.
“sugu-” you mumbled, and he’s just staring at you with a sly grin pressing onto his lips, only before he leans directly up close to your neck, giving a part near your collarbone a soft deep suck.
you whine from feeling the near sharp edges of his teeth lightly dig into your skin, playfully.
“mhm, pretty thing like you isn’t fit to be workin’ here. cutesy little prison guard,” he sung, his warm breath wafts against your skin, “crushin’ on your inmates is real unprofessional, ya know. you could get fired.”
he was right, you could get fired. and perhaps he wasn’t lying about the second part too—you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t find suguru geto the slightest bit of attractive. because he was, he and you both knew it.
“don’t be stupid. i’m not crushing on you,” you denied, yet embarrassingly enough, your eyes widen at feeling geto air your words — his thick stubby fingers, two of them specifically runs down between your legs and you gasp again. “are you…crazy? there could be cameras in here.”
“so.”
“so? you’re trying to get me fired?” you raised your eyebrows, sitting up from his lap, and he’s playing with you entirely. stroking a rough scarred hand down your back. if it was any other inmate, you’d barely give them a second glance.
geto gives you direct eye contact, and he looks so handsome and lean back, but his messy long black strands of bangs nearly covers his eyes, making him appear to be ten times more feared.
“maybe,” then he chuckles. “it’s okay, if it makes ya feel any better. i fantasized about you at least once or twice while being secluded from the other inmates in this hellhole. i prefer you over the other annoying officers who’re always givin’ me shit.”
you were about to speak but suddenly you couldn’t—you realized how close you were to geto, propped up on his lap, propped up on his bulge. were you really throbbing right now? oh you definitely were.
pulsing, itching, aching.
“soooo, when was the last time you got laid?”
this guy.
“excuse me?” you stammer, entirely being taken aback. such smug fell off his tone, he cocked his head a certain way to let you know he was being genuine. in his own way, of course.
geto’s always been one to flirt with you whenever it was your shift to supervise him. his comments were always so bold. he’d purposely pitch his tone a bit low whenever he spoke to you, no one else. perhaps it was the incarcerated felon crushing on you.
“you heard me,” he mutters, giving you a sly glance. he ghosts a few fingers against your waist. you still don’t know why you’re happily sitting on his lap, but you were comfortable to say the least. “with your long hours i pretty much figure you don’t even have time to finger yourself, let alone get laid. poor baby.”
“…just shut up.” you chastised, his soothing warm words, the way he delivered those last two words as a form of mockery. it made you throb, you pinched yourself, feeling yourself grow out to be hot.
“make me, girl.” he faked a pout on his lips, almost as if his speech was purposely dumbing you down, solely from the tone. geto teasingly cocks his head towards the right and a teeny smile stretched against his lips.
and you did.
he was just poking fun at you—you loathed it, the tension between you and geto, his expressions were relaxed and smug like you won’t do anything.
so, what did you do?
you silenced him…with a kiss.
he’s taken aback, you’re taken aback, you don’t know what came over you but you just couldn’t stand him talking.
his sly grin, you desperately wanted to wipe it off his face. geto leans back against his bunk. his breath gets caught in his throat with the way you initiated the lustful kiss, parting your mouth open just a bit.
you can feel geto reaching for the firearm near your hip but with quick reflexes you smack his hand, and he chuckles, pulling you closer towards him.
he tasted sweet, with a tang of spice. leaning his head forward, he felt your warm breath shudder against him which makes him let off a low grunt once he feels you start to rock against his lap.
geto didn’t expect for you to trail a finger down his jumpsuit. the soft nearly wrinkled fabric, unbuttoning it and he shudders at how you’re all frisky and bold.
“easy now officer,” he whispers before pulling away, lips pink and glistening with a bit of spit. his voice was a mere rasp and it made you throb. “when i said make me, that’s not what i meant,” and then he smiles, tugging on your work pants. “but you’re something else. take off those pants, i’ve been meaning to show you something.”
geto wanted to show you his tongue, specifically his tongue piercing. not necessarily show you but make you feel it.
when you kissed him, you felt it tickle against you. the tasteless titanium rubbing against your tongue. it left you all hot and bothered.
he had you currently laid flat on your back, an entire needy mess, despite it only being a few minutes. how embarrassing…
it was just the way he curled his tongue, flicking it against your pussy, he’s sloppy. two big hands squeeze and grip against your inner thighs, long strands prickling against your legs as he swirled his tongue against your slit.
“f-fuck,” you’d gasp out, tilting your neck down to stare at geto. he’s already returning your eyes with a coltish glance, puckering his lips briefly to create kissed everywhere between your legs. your hands rummaged through his long silk hair. giving it a firm tug, that earns a low grunt from geto that makes you pulse even more. “tickles, suguru.”
“does it?” he purrs in a cheeky tone, slowly flicking his tongue against your clit—you jounce, a gasp gets caught in your throat at the way the piercing shifts against your folds. the slight coldness of it makes your thighs ache for more “mhm. can’t get enough.”
you pant, tugging and gripping roughly on his hair, geto’s nose deep, his tongue was so greedy. it was just the way he grazed and moved his tongue against your labia. your two sweet flaps, you grew more whiny by the second.
“s-suguru,” you’d squeak, biting down on your lip. you knew how wrong this was, so why did it turn you on even more? “think…think ‘m getting close.”
“yeah yeah, keep your legs open.” he cuts you off, and you stare down at him. he’s so nasty with his tongue, taking a brief second to spit right on your cunt, dragging a thumb between your slit. “do you get wet like this for all your other inmates?”
you stared down at him, feeling yourself grow more and more aroused by the second—your response was just giving him a subtle head shake. “no, just you.”
“just me?” he repeats, lowering his voice and it’s so attractive. “maybe you really are crushin’ on me.”
“shut up..” you hissed. your breathing started to become more and more erratic, your ears rang and you pulsed from how close you were starting to approach towards your orgasm.
geto’s entire chin was polished with your sweet slick—covered in nothing but all of it. such a messy eater, each time you tug on his long strands of hair. his husky pitched groans continued to make you pulse.
his piercing slowly lapped against your cunt, and you gasped at the feeling of him inserting a finger inside slowly.
“ooh, ‘s close isn’t it?” he teases, peppering kisses near your thighs now, nibbling on it playfully with his teeth. “you gonna make a mess for me? slutty prison guard?”
“y-yes.” you squirmed, your hands idly dragging him closer against your pussy. he chuckles, his technique snatching your breath away quite literally. “suguru… gonna come. wanna cum.”
he lays his tongue flat, lapping and lapping against your clit, giving it a long sweet suck to where his mouth starts watering from the taste and you moan. “ask nicer. where’s your manners huh?”
“p-please,” you whined, growing frustrated, so pent up—your walls clenched around the two fingers he now had buried deep into your cunt. you whimper from the mere stimulation, the way he toys with your g-spot with his lengthy slender fingers had you throbbing pathetically. “let me cum please, s-suguru.”
“oh but i don’t know,” the inmate teases, using his free hand to pry open your thighs a bit more. the cute pout that spread across your lips at his words was so adorable, “aw poor baby,” he hums, playfully blowing against your pussy to watch you writhe in pleasure and utter desperation. “you’re so cute when you’re desperate.”
“suguru, please, please..” you whimpered, not even caring how you sounded. your sweet voice reverberated against the walls of the secluded kept room, own words coiling at your throat.
he smiles. “how about this,” and for a terse moment…he stares right at you. with his tongue going over his lips, savoring your taste. “i let you cum, you promise to get me out of here.”
….
help him break out?
all this so you could orgasm….
you swallowed, chest heaving and your legs felt nearly nonexistent. geto looked serious though, brushing a thumb against your sloppy clit. he awaited your answer and you were deep in pondering thought.
you’d for sure get fired, then again you did hate your job.
the fact that you were even contemplating letting an inmate break out just to cum. you just wanted a release so bad, the way his tongue lapped against your pussy, the smooth texture of it flicking back and forth to where your toes curl. you wanted more, and maybe it was a bit concerning that you started to not even care about your profession anymore.
“promise..”
“oh..?” he slyly remarks, for sure you were gonna at least deny or call him crazy, but a straight answer. he was amused—and the needy look on his face was all he needed to see. “hm, it’s a deal then. go ahead ‘n cum, pretty girl.”
your back arched in ecstasy, he’s holding onto your hips departing his fingers from inside you, and just his tongue’s doing the main finish. you shuddered as you felt yourself vibrate and twitch. the build up had you clenching around nothing but air. “f-fuck…”
scorching, your body radiated and carried so much heat around it, your eyes started to roll and roll towards the very depths of your head. once you came, you slump back against the rickety mattress, one hand still firmly maintaining its grip on geto’s hair.
“there there, ‘s okay,” he slyly purrs, making sure to clean you with his tongue. for a split second his eyes close, and geto brings a few kisses against your folds before sitting up to stare down at you. “c’mere.”
you sit up, giving geto a cute needful glance, you craved more and he knew that. you leaned in to kiss him, and he returns it with such filthy passion. geto’s handsy, his slick-smeared lips ghost against yours before he deepens it. a groan gets caught in his throat, and you whine once you feel him lay you down on your back.
he leans up against you and eagerly, you give the orange fabric pants of his jumpsuit a cute tug, a sign for him to take it off.
“such an impatient little thing,” he murmurs right into your mouth. you whined, wanting him to keep kissing you but he keeps breaking away purposely, watching your lips quiver in desire. “how bad do you want me?”
“s-suguru.” you pouted, your hand finding its way towards his bulge. the strain in his pants, all because of you.
“don’t ‘suguru’ me,” he rasps in a mocking tone, his body pressed against yours. and only then did you realize the size difference, how buff and well toned geto was. he was an inmate after all, he always had a consistent workout schedule. geto’s dark eyes stare into yours before he brushes a thumb against your glossed lips. “talk to me nice in that pretty voice of yours. you want me? say it then.”
the disappointed pout you had displayed on your lips remained there as you spoke, only to hear how whiney and desperate you were.
“i want you suguru, please.” you sigh.
“girl…you’re so unprofessional,” he snickers, a swift snicker leaves from his lips before you hear him shuffle in his suit. pulling down his matched set pants, he tugs near the edge and it goes down. “feel how hard you make me, officer.”
and you let out a soft gasp.
geto lightly grabs you by the neck, and you let off a needy moan once he starts to rub your face against his boxers. the very imprint of his bulge. “all your fault. got me throbbin’ for you...”
“suguru,” you whined, a small pout spreading on your lips each second he continued to tease you. “suguru, s-stop teasing me.”
“just jokin’,” you plop down on your chest, the moment he lightly shoves you forward against the plush-cushioned bed frame. it creaked from the movements, quite rickety. “oh wow,” he utters in a low voice — quickly averting his eyes towards your work pants, briefly pulling them down to come full-view of your ass. “do correctional officers just…not wear panties or…?”
you let off a moan, feeling him skim a few fingers against your ass, holding back a noise once he presses the leaky fat tip of his cock against your throbbing entrance.
“i…i forgot.” you whined, mouth watering — you wanted more than anything for him to be inside already. “i was rushing.”
“uh huh,” geto rolls his eyes, and you stared directly at him. the plump fat head of his swiped against your wet folds, a few taps and you were about to go crazy. “ooh. look at you trying to rush me.”
he was such a tease, you could hear the playfulness in his tone. as geto hovered over you, he took a few moments before slowly easing his way inside you.
his jaw clenches, and it’s sexy…
the way his muscles would tense all because of you. you were panting, legs just dumbly sprawled out. maybe it was unprofessional, participating in sexual activities with an inmate—yet, you just couldn’t help yourself. all the built up tension surrounding between the two of you. perhaps it was bound to happen.
“fuck, ‘s warm..” he grunts, and he’s just barely halfway in. you chewed near the inside of your lip, nails clawing down his buff arms and he starts to pant himself. geto was huge. emphasis on huge.
his happy trail was mesmerizing to look at, the way he had slightly black curly hair coating near the lower half of himself. it was well trimmed, yet much visible to see. the more he gently makes his way inside your cunt, you felt every mean inch. the curve geto had—it was hefty, you felt yourself starting to drool.
a single vein throbbed, and you felt it. geto bites his tongue marginally. and once he’s fully in, he gives you a coy expression.
“may i move, officer?” he snickers.
“p-please.” you whimpered.
“okay.” he hums, and the bass to his voice was just enough to get you wet. far wetter than you already were. such smoothness dripped from it, it was a deep pitch that always made your heart flutter and sink.
once he starts up just a single thrust, your body jolts back and you gasp—finding your arms to suddenly grab onto him.
geto chuckles. “dramatic thing, aren’t you.” you moaned, nails continuing to drag down how skin as you’re laid flat against your back. the angle was so deep and thorough, each hit against your pussy had your kind spasming. in an entire frenzy of you will.
he leans in to pepper kisses all over your face, strands of his hair that was out tickled against your skin. by this point, he’s buried deep. your head goes back a bit and…oh, that same curve that he had, it continuously made an appearance.
geto was buried between your legs, hefty sack just thwacking against you. your legs were perfectly bent, shoulder width apart. “f-fuck,” you’d stammer, suddenly clamping all around him. it took a few deep vigorous thrusts, but at this point he’s got your pussy memorizing his lengths size. geto spreads his knees for a more thorough base, his movements were so sloppy you could barely think straight. let alone process anything. “suguru, ‘s right there.”
“right there what?” he teases, leaning in to nibble near the bottom of your lip. the thin fabric of his jumpsuit brushes against your skin—you were just a mess. pulse after pulse, you wouldn’t be surprised if your brain was short circuiting. “i can’t hear ya when you mumble, baby.”
“fucking-” you spat, and he chuckles once you’re cut off with a deep kiss. geto vary’s his stance against you, and slides his tongue all throughout your mouth. it’s a rough and passionate kiss—so much so to where, he has you catching his breath. once you pull away, you moan, being brought back to reality from his ruthless smacks he’s making with his dick. “keep…keep hitting me there.”
he hums, giving your bottom lip a slow playful bite again, still ramming his hips against you at such a filthy pace. “is that an order?”
he was so annoying, that two second glance he’d give you—a smirk pressing against his lips, he definitely knew how to get under your skin. “please,” you corrected yourself, nails still running down his back. it pierced against his skin, earning a low husky grunt from him. “keep hitting me in that s-spot, suguru.”
“since ya asked so nicely,” he purrs, sneaking another kiss. this time near the very corner of your mouth. the taste was just glacé, sweet and all. simply divine.
you moaned into his mouth, and as his body weight pressed against yours — you shivered. he’s such a tease, geto starts to lightly ghost your cell keys against your bare tummy. your back arched immediately, the coldness of it just grazing against your skin. “you’re so sensitive.”
his soft, teasing words rang throughout your ears, and as you clung onto him—you felt yourself coming closer and closer. he gripped onto your legs, slightly raising them upward and you moan from the deep deep angled. “o-oh my god.”
geto’s shallow mean strokes had your eyes rolling all the way back….way back to the very depths of your skull. if you weren’t drooling then, you certainly were now.
the moment he sees you pouting from how he cockily starts to slow down—geto pushes a bit more deeper, grinning from your legs now locking around his waist.
moments later though, you both freeze at hearing the sound of footsteps approaching near the solitary steel door.
right when you about to orgasm, you both stare at each other — and it’s another officer. you could tell by the loud echo of the keys dangling against their hips.
“officer, you alright? been in there a while. we’re finishing up roll call then it’s time for the inmates to sleep.”
shit.
you couldn’t stay quiet, that’d be suspicious, and you knew you had to say something. geto chuckles, still buried balls deep inside of you, leaning in to give your neck a long suck. your hands ran through his hair and you bit your lip, trying to muster up what to say.
“your subordinate’s talking to you,” geto teases, and you gasp from how he suddenly pistons his hips, such sloppy ruthless thrusts your breath was merely taken away. “don’t be a rude girl.”
“s-shut up,” you whined, putting a hand in his face and he playfully kisses it. you stop a moan from escaping your lips before you project your voice lightly. “uh, yeah. everything’s good. inmate suguru geto’s asleep. i’m just—just finishing up then i’ll take care of his dishes.”
“alright,” the lower rank replies, and your legs start to shake and jostle against geto. he’s staring at you, just wanting for you to slip up. a few awkward seconds pass before the officer continues to speak. “are we still on for tonight?”
you gulped, and geto raises his brows before whispering into your neck. “…oh, tonight, yeah?”
by all means, you felt so embarrassed, heat rises up to your cheeks as if your entire body wasn’t already burning up from his weight pressing down against you.
you ended up cumming mid-convo, and had to cover your mouth to not be so noisy. you clenched all around geto, just a twitching and spasming mess.
“y-yeah, we are.”
“good, good,” he speaks through the other end of the closed steel door. poor officer, he sounds so ecstatic, a bit of confidence running through his tone. “i’ll see you then, pumpkin.”
geto blurted out laughing and you had to slap a hand against his mouth. the moment the coast is clear and he walks away, you glare and he simpers.
“pumpkin,” he repeats, mimicking your co-workers accent. “i didn’t know you had plans. have me looking like a fool, hmpf.”
“my private life isn’t your busin—” and you get cut off once geto abruptly sits you upright, to where you’re just straddling him. you moan, your cunt still being stuffed full of his thick inches — and for a moment, you felt his vein prod against you.
geto groans, seeing how your pupils were all dilated from your recent release. “yeahhh, it isn’t,” he says, grabbing ahold of your waist. you’re rocking back and forth and he’s so thick that you’re just completely cockdrunk and dizzy. “but ‘m having too much fun with you.”
you gasp once you feel the back of geto’s hand roughly smack your ass again, and again, and again. he loves the recoil — you hiss from the sting as your hips roll and maneuver against his lap. “you’re such a dirty girl. i don’t want you to go on that date. stay with me.”
“y-you can’t be serious.” you muttered, arms thrown over his neck. and for a brief moment, it was almost as if you heard a faint of jealously lingering on his tone. it made you throb, this high and mighty notorious inmate feeling this way…for a nobody like you.
“dead serious, baby,” he utters, and you can sense geto’s close too from the way his jaw tightens. his head tilts back and he bites down on his lip. “that way i won’t be less lonely. talking to the wall ‘n everything.”
oh right, he was in solitary confinement. purposely secluded from the other guards and inmates. geto was considered a danger, yet here you were — stupidly bouncing on his dick.
“but ‘m not so lonely now that you’re here,” he coos against your ear, and you whimper once he drags a hand down between your legs. he gives your pussy a few mean spanks and you whimpered. “fuck, keep moaning in my ear like that ‘n i’m gonna give you so much of my cum.”
“i need it.” you pleaded, tears swelling up in your eyes, you genuinely didn’t know what got over you — your body was so achy, each time he traced his fingers down your body, you whined. you didn’t care anymore, you just wanted to be filled.
geto groans, and his hefty base kept smacking back against you, your hips jerked as you tightly held onto him, marking up the very inner part of his neck with soft bite marks.
“f-fine,” he grumbles, and his voice gets a bit high, he’s growing out to be sensitive from the pressure building up. he even gets a tad bit whiney himself. the constant skin smacking makes him kiss his teeth, and his head throws back yet again—long pretty hair flowing against his shoulders. “god, you’re so fuckin’ nasty. riding me this g-good.”
you even start to tug on his hair, and that makes him moan even more. not like he minded. it turned him on, needless to say.
once geto came, it was thick, so much that it instantly spilled out of your cunt. you paused your hips, and he silenced his groans by grunting against your neck. he’s shaking just as much as you were — and it came out in velvety ropes, spurting and spurting.
“take it all,” he hisses, gripping onto your waist tightly. you whimper, grinding against him just for a few seconds and he’s for once speechless. “damn, those hips of yours is so deadly, fuck.”
you whined, sitting up and he pulls out of you, watching his own cum spill and drip out. geto brings a thumb towards your clit to smear it all over your pussy, an image that was a something he’d never erase from his mind.
you panted, hitting your back against his bunk while geto leans in to kiss you deeply. you kissed back, dragging your tongue against his, feeling his warm breath fan against yours before he pulls away with a weary expression.
“good girl,” he murmurs, peppering a soft kiss near the side of your mouth. “remember my promise?”
“yeah.” you exhale, trying to catch your breath. your legs felt like jello — head clouded and entirely empty, not a single thought in your mind.
he smiles. “good. because i forgot to tell ya something else,” and you stare at him, a soft confused head tilt, watching him re-adjust his jumpsuit, pulling his boxers and pants part up. “have fun being in solitary by yourself.”
“wait w-what?” you stammer, and reaches the door, your own keys in hand — and you couldn’t have felt anymore stupid. geto chuckles, with a sly shrug. “princess, you were so gullible. letting me take your keys,” and he unlocks the huge latch before grinning. “but hey, don’t feel too bad. you have a date tonight.”
you glare, overwhelmed with emotions before spitting out a, “fuck you.”
“you literally just did,” he wriggles his eyebrows. “don’t worry. i’ll come back for you,” and then he opens the steel door.
yet before slamming it, he gives you a wink and that same sly grin. “nah i’m just kidding, no i won’t. sorry.”
#★vegasbaby.#geto smut#geto x reader#geto x you#suguru geto x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#getou suguru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk fic#jjk x you#jjk smut#anime smut#anime x reader#female reader#tw sex#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru smut
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!! it’s very silly and unserious and the only reason it’s long is because it’s so vivid in my head. unedited as hell </3
nosy neighbours tf 141 got me giggling. and it’s not even inherently sexy nor attractive, it’s really just them being in people’s (or a person’s) business.
thinking about how, in retirement, they still bought a house together because it’s so odd to have separate lives. and so they bought one in the suburbs, with five bedrooms and four baths, and a really big backyard. kyle picked up gardening so the backyard was not just a plus but a damn requirement.
so they move in, not giving a damn about that one old WASP couple across the street watching them all with a sneer because apparently moving in with your mates is unusual. well, whatever. fuck them.
then they meet their new neighbour. you’re single—divorced, price would tell them later—whose life is centred around your 9 to 5 job at an office in the city which you wake up at 5am for.
you leave the house at 6:30am and then amble back home when it’s pushing 8pm. it’s a boring life; a boring routine. not even your little front lawn of cared-for wild flowers managed to hold their attention longer than a day.
so with that said, they’d like to go on a record and say that it’s all johnny’s fault.
friday evening, he started the game by saying, “she bought a baguette.” he paused. “and a bottle? it's shaped like lube?”
john blinked, setting his book down. “what.”
mactavish shrugged, still peering from the crack in the curtains. kyle walked in then, his apron all dirtied. “hey, i’m craving a baguette.”
johnny laughed and looked at price like price was supposed to get something from that. of course he didn’t, but johnny’s always been good at carrying the momentum so, to no one’s surprise, he repeats the observation three days after the previous one.
“bag’o coal and lemon bread. what the hell.”
“that’s a disgusting dinner combo,” kyle chirps, switching the channels.
simon throws a pillow at him because he had been watching a documentary about moths when kyle changed the program without asking him.
“it’s just monday,” john finally replies, cementing his participation in the game. “why’s she buying lem—did she not grocery shop?”
johnny looks at him, wide-eyed. “that’s a good question, sir.” then he turns, ignoring them again to peer at their neighbour. john’s sure you’re back in your home so he really doesn’t know what johnny’s watching at that point.
simon was successful at wrestling the remote control back to him, and the program’s returned to the moths.
.
thursday evening, two and a half weeks after monday’s lemon bread and bag of coal, the game picks up again.
“who the hell makes a rug purchase during the weekdays?” kyle asks, his voice teetering between fascination and concern.
“how long’s the rug?” johnny replies, all of them watching as kyle stands in front of that slip of window they now use for ‘bird watching.’
kyle spreads his arms out—2.5 ft.
“huh,” johnny says. “for the toilet, you reckon?”
“probably for the cat, actually,” simon cuts in.
“what cat.” john doesn’t even know who asked that, but really—what cat?
“a round thing,” simon answers. “grey fur.”
“aww,” johnny croons. “that’s cute.”
john sighs and turns back to the morning paper’s crossword puzzle for the day.
.
you don’t join the neighbourhood’s annual summer barbecue party much to their disappointment. although, in all fairness, john understands your decision because they wouldn’t have gone to it anyway had they not found out that the host this year was going to be that WASP couple who still sneered at them every chance they get.
the wife, of course, couldn’t turn them away in front of the other neighbours who particularly loved kyle and, shockingly, simon so there they are, eating what is begrudgingly some good ribs while listening to the neighbourhood gossip.
and while each story was riveting, nothing could honestly hold a candle to their ‘bird’ and your peculiar grocery runs.
.
one evening, you come home with a man. john tells them it’s your ex-husband, admitting to them that yes, he’s now used up their once-a-month pass to accessing ‘special’ resources with regards to finding more about you.
“think they’re fuckin’?” johnny asks, no longer feigning disinterest.
kyle groans because it had been more than a minute now since johnny dropped a card from his stack; they tried their best to be patient as they waited, thinking mactavish needed more time since, apparently, he’s never played cards before—growing up as a catholic boy, he’s always been told that any form of gambling was a gateway to eternal damnation.
john didn’t have the heart to tell him that you didn’t have to make bets to be able to play cards.
“maybe,” simon replies, ignoring kyle’s angry grumbling. “why else would she bring him home? her house ain’t really a wonder.”
“…how do you know that?” kyle asks, his words measured and slowed.
simon blinks, then he sniffs, before looking away.
“hey!” mactavish screams, catching on. “we agreed no tampering with anythin’ of ‘ers!”
“yeah? well tell ‘at to cap’n too—he was already there when i broke in.”
johnny turns to him with a theatrical betrayed look. kyle drops his head on the table because the game’s been fully abandoned now.
“sir,” johnny says, his voice airy like he’s speaking mid-gasp. “you didn’t.”
john licks the back of his teeth, then, “jus’ wanted to see ‘er cat, s’all.”
.
the ex-husband leaves three hours later with a familiar rug tucked to his side.
.
“huh,” simon murmurs, his voice so faint that john almost missed it. “tulips and tuna today.”
johnny and kyle would’ve loved the update but the two are away for the week.
john messages it to the group chat.
suds (19:21)
> holy shit she’s improving.
.
oddly enough, it took them six months since they moved in for them to finally talk to you.
or, well, for you to talk to them.
“i’m havin’ a yard sale tomorrow,” you say after the introductions have passed, your lips tugged up in a shy smile.
john honestly couldn’t even remember how he used to envision you—old age caught up to him and for a whole while, you were nothing but a coloured blob in his eyes since they turned out to be more damaged than expected—but whatever that had been was erased the moment you stood before them.
shy and awkward, your back slouched just a little like you’re trying to curl into yourself in the face of their rapt attention, but even then you’re beautiful.
“yeah?” kyle asks, smiling; the first to break out of the trance you put them into. “and would y’need help, pretty miss?”
“oh, you,” you murmur, strained laughter peeling from your lips. “and yeah, i do. would that be alright? i tried moving my old couch downstairs and my back almost gave out. i swear, i thought i was going to see the lord today.”
johnny laughs, loud and booming. “well we’re glad that you didn’t die today, otherwise who would take care of little truffle, huh?”
john barely stopped himself from heaving out a loud sigh, an attempt made more challenging when he caught the way kyle whirled his head to glare at mactavish, the act not any less subtle since it startled you too. simon grumbles something incoherent—it’s lost amidst johnny’s petering laugh and your swelling horror.
“…how, exactly, do you know my cat’s name?”
#suns#task force 141#cod x reader#task force 141 headcanons#johnny soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#john price#simon ghost riley
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part two
Starting an internship at the company Satoru’s father owns but you don’t know who he is just yet.
He’s annoying. He always comes back from lunch late, lets his phone ring at his desk (that’s conveniently placed next to yours) past the three ring policy, writes emails with silly and immature sign-offs, cracks jokes during meetings, and somehow, despite always finishing his paperwork late, he never manages to lose his damn job.
You try to mind your own business. But you can’t help but feel him slowly grate at your nerves as he acts so unprofessional and for some weird reason, not one person seems to care.
He seems pretty intrigued with you, too, if matters couldn’t get worse.
“Hey,” he grins. You try to ignore the tilt of his lips in amusement as you just barely fight off rolling your eyes.
“Can I help you with something?” You sigh, “I’m currently in the middle of something that requires my full attention, but maybe we could—”
“You really love your office jargon,” he hums, cutting you off with a wider grin, “so dedicated.”
“Oh, my apologies,” you smile tightly. He seems to straighten a little, some sick, twisted form of excitement rushing through his system at the way he seems to get under your skin. “Allow me to use simpler language for you to understand: go away, I’m busy.”
Someone has to stand up to this prick, you think. He puts in half the effort, and somehow, you’re pretty sure your boss has a soft spot for him. You don’t understand it, and quite frankly, you’ll be damned if a lazy, lackluster man snags a promotion before your hardworking self.
“Oh wow,” he snorts, “breaking your strictly professional streak, are you? You must be really occupied. I guess I’ll borrow your stapler later.”
Gritting your teeth, you give him yet another tight lipped smile before grabbing the stapler off your desk and handing it to him. (A small part of you resists the urge to throw it square at his face. Maybe the image of him on the floor with a bloodied nose would make your day a little easier, but then you’re sure you’d be jobless).
“Here you go,” you say with as much kindness as you can muster. (It’s not a lot). “Please do bring it back when you’re done. Some of us actually complete paper work, so the stapler is a necessity.”
“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head, eyes sparkling with mischief, “don’t worry, I won’t hold your stapler hostage for too long. I wouldn’t want to disrupt the flow of your productivity.”
You watch with wary eyes as he walks back to his desk, stapling some small, tiny note of sorts before walking right back, handing the paper and the stapler to you.
“What’s this?” You raise a brow.
“Some paper work for you to fill out,” he grins, the vagueness of his answer making a vein all but pop in your forehead.
Before you even have a chance to tell him that you most certainly will not be entertaining whatever silly prank he’s playing, he walks right off, sagging into his chair as he does an obnoxious little spin and goes back to typing at his computer. Probably yet another email with a ridiculous ending, you think to yourself.
Against your better judgement, you stare at the note, eyeing the small flap he’s stapled over an index card. You lift it up, quickly scanning over his scribbled writing.
Want to grab coffee during lunch? Check your answer:
▢ yes! ▢ absolutely! ▢ most definitely!
Your eye twitches.
Grabbing a pen, you quickly add a box underneath his (very confident) options, checking it off and writing in neat, pristine handwriting:
▣ not a chance!
You stand, walking over to his desk and ignoring his perked up, excited little smile as you drop the note back on the table and head back to your own desk. A tiny wave of satisfaction weaves through your body when you notice him read over your response and deflate, a small pout forming over his lips.
Regretfully, a small part of you can’t help but acknowledge that he’s actually…kind of cute when his lips are curled like that. But a larger part of you shakes that thought away and cringes internally. It’s a shame his personality ruins the genetic blessings he seems to have been bestowed with.
And you think that’s the end of it—but of course, with someone like Satoru in the office, there’s never the end of anything.
You watch as an email pops up on your screen, opening it only to stare blankly at his name and roll your eyes at the subject line:
────────────────────────
Follow-Up on Submitted Paperwork
Greetings office neighbor,
Thank you for submitting the paperwork. Unfortunately, I couldn’t help but notice that it does not fully align with the outlined guidelines. Could you please provide clarification or revise the submission accordingly?
Thanks a million,
Gojo Satoru :)
────────────────────────
And there he goes again with those obnoxious sign-offs, you think bitterly. Instantly, you’re clicking away at your keyboard as you type back an agitated response. Of course, you really shouldn’t entertain his ridiculous schemes, but something about him gets under your skin enough that you simply can’t help yourself.
You huff in approval at your response as you read it over before hitting send.
Instantly, as if he was waiting, you see his hand reach for his mouse and click on his screen to open your email as his eyes scan over your reply:
────────────────────────
Thank you for reaching out,
Unfortunately, I was unable to fully adhere to the outlined guidelines, as they are not viable in this situation. To address this, I adjusted the submission to align more effectively with a more practical outcome.
Hope that helps!
Your office neighbor :)
────────────────────────
Just when you think he’s given up, he rolls his chair over to your desk, causing a couple of annoyed heads to tilt up and glare at him for the noise before turning their attention back to their work. You pinch your nose as his chair rolls to a stop in front of your desk.
“Yes?” You grit through your teeth.
“Hey, office neighbor,” he hums, “just wanted to clarify your most recent email with you. I’m a bit confused.”
“Which part confused you?” You bat your lashes in faux charm, sarcastically smiling at him as he hums, grabbing a piece of candy from your little bowl of sweets at your desk and helping himself.
Your eye twitches a little at the gesture. Those are for you to enjoy throughout a miserable work day.
“Um…” he trails off as he pretends to think, “I’d say all of it.”
“I see,” you nod slowly, fighting every bone in your body not to snap at him with a colorful choice of words. “Essentially, the options in your original document did not highlight a plausible set of deliverables, so I corrected them for you with a more realistic one. Make sense?”
“Not really,” he sighs dramatically, pretending to scratch his head in confusion. You want nothing more than to grab those snowy locks and slam his face into your paper shredder. “Could you go over it one more time? I’m still lost.”
You’re just about to lose your patience with him when suddenly, the entire office seems to collectively take in a sharp breath, everyone scrambling to look as productive as possible while a tall, older looking man with suspiciously familiar white hair and blue eyes walks through the office. Something in your brain sets off alarm bells, but you can’t quite completely piece it together what it is about him seems so….recognizable.
“Who’s that?” You frown, scrunching your nose in confusion as everyone straightens up.
“That would be the final boss,” he snorts. You roll your eyes at his word choice before blinking and straightening up yourself.
“Oh my god,” you gasp, voice a panicked whisper as you ask, “you mean the owner of this company?”
“Yeah,” he drawls, raising a brow at you in amusement. “Never seen him before?”
“No,” you hiss, “I’m just the intern! Now go back to your desk before he thinks we’re goofing off, I’d like to keep my job, please.”
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he hums.
You send him a nasty glare, just about at your wits end as you whisper-yell, “I am going to throw my stapler right at your—”
“Satoru, I need you in my office,” comes a stern, deep voice, interrupting you as you quickly shut your mouth.
“You got it, old man,” he salutes in mock seriousness. Suddenly, your spine goes rigid and your eyes widen. The man walks off with a firm nod as Satoru stands, giving you an innocent smile.
Suddenly, it dawns on you just why he looked so strikingly familiar.
“Did you just call him old man?” You blink, mouth agape.
“Yup,” he winks, walking backwards as his eyes stay trained on you while he heads for the elevator. “I’ll put in a good word for you when he’s in a better mood at home tonight. I think we can discuss the specifics over coffee during our lunch hour, yeah?”
#—rivistyping!#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru x you#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo fanfic#gojo x y/n#gojo imagine#gojo oneshot
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nonexistent rizz
the team is shocked to see that… early seasons!spencer pulls?? and he has pulled????(aka, the team discovers that early seasons!spence has a girlfriend)
a/n: first cm fic!!! super indulgent, deffo way longer than it had to be but I don’t care, I love love love the dynamic of the s1/s2 team and I NEEDED to write it (look at '#mystery girl!au' on my blog to see more musings about them <3)
cw: alcohol consumption, reader referred to as a woman, reader is around spencer’s age in s1/s2 (23-24), completely inaccurate early 2000s technology i think, cuties being cute, not edited in any way
wc: 2k
part two | mlist
(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )
“‘O Keefe’s! My wonderful, wonderful sweethearts, we are going out!” The moment the team steps out of the elevator, Penelope is bombarding them, hands moving wildly as words seem to tumble out of her mouth. “And yes, Hotch, I am sure we have no cases lined up yet, and yes, I’m sure JJ can corroborate that the moment she gets to her office and no, you may not stay behind, tonight is compulsory. That stands for you too, Gideon!”
Hotch hasn’t even opened his mouth, shaking his head in defeat as he takes in Garcia’s determined face. Under the watchful eyes of the team, his shoulders slump, a tired hand scrubbing down his face. “Fine. We all have to finish our reports, but if we’re all done in half an hour, we can go. Gideon?” He turns his face, hoping for Gideon to find a way to bunk off, but there’s a glint of amusement in the older man’s eye. “Sounds like there’s no getting out of it.” With that, he walks off, to his office.
Penelope whoops excitedly, “Okay! That means we’re all going! That’s the first time since Gideon came back,” but her face sets slightly when she meets Spencer’s eye. “No. No, Baby Genius, you will not do this to me,”
“Garcia, I have pl-” “No! You are coming out with us, and we’re going to have a great time, and whatever Russian indie film you were going to watch will still be there for you tomorrow. Okay? No more complaining, baby, you know I won’t listen.” With a pat on his shoulder, she flounces off. Defeated, he doesn’t move from the elevator area, shrugging helplessly when Elle, JJ and Morgan brush past him to the bullpen.
With a sigh, he takes out his phone, pressing his newly-programmed speed dial and bringing the phone to his ear. From Derek’s vantage point in the bullpen, he can see Spencer, pacing back and forth in front of the elevator doors, and he can see the moment whoever is on the other side picks up. The younger man’s face lights up, like when he’s on the receiving end of a rare Hotch smile out in the field, but more spirited, buoyant. Only snippets of the conversation float in through the slightly-ajar glass doors, but they’re enough to give him pause, and still his fingers above his keyboard.
“...Garcia’s got this plan for us all, and…”
“Yes, I know, I do like going out with them, but that’s not what I wanted to do…”
“...I took the metro tonight, so I think I’ll just… Really? You want to?”
At that point, Spencer turns, his voice muffling, and keeping Derek from his vested interest in his conversation. But what little he heard is more than enough to pique his interest. He flicks a pencil onto Elle’s desk. “Greenaway. You know if pretty boy’s mom is in town or something?” Elle looks up from her monitor, head tilting, “Not that I know of. Besides, doesn’t she not like flying? I don’t think he’d have her come here. Why do you ask?”
Derek doesn’t reply, simply gesturing to the glass doors, where Spencer is walking inside, his mouth twitching to conceal his smile. His steps are measured, like he’s trying to feign calm. He settles at his desk, hunching his back in a way that can’t be comfortable, typing rapidly as his knee jiggles up and down. Elle turns back to Derek, eyes wide with wonder.
“That is not how you look getting off the phone with your mother.”
The incident is quickly forgotten, however, when the BAU team are crammed into a booth in the back of the low-lit bar. Penelope has roped Hotch into helping her bring drinks back from the bar, and the rest are speaking a little too loudly, arms flinging and bumping into the empty glasses littering the table.
All except for Gideon, who, despite having had three glasses of whiskey, is still just as calm and observant as he is fully sober. It is this that causes him to zero in on Spencer, sitting across from him, sandwiched between Morgan and the newly-returned Garcia.
There’s a pink flush across his high cheekbones, and he’s incredibly giggly, all things that are completely expected for him, a few drinks in. However, what the experienced profiler picks up on, are his darting eyes. Spencer can often be found staring into the middle distance, or, since Gideon taught him the importance of building rapport with victims and officers alike, trained steadily on the space between someone’s eyebrows, but this time it’s different.
His eyes flick to whoever’s talking, feigning interest, but every few seconds, it turns back down to his lap, where something is clutched in the hand he keeps under the table. If it were Hotch, Gideon would know with absolute certainty that he was watching his phone, waiting for a text from Haley.
But this is Spencer. The youngest person he knows. The youngest person he knows whose technological knowledge is somehow worse than Gideon’s own. What on earth would have Spencer acting-
Oh. Gideon nearly gasps at Spencer’s movements. On his fifteenth peek down at his lap, Spencer stiffens, then draws his hand up from his lap to get closer to his face. It is his phone, and Spencer Reid has somehow learned to text as quickly as Morgan does. His thumbs fly over the buttons on his phone, and he can’t hold back the smile that spreads on his face.
Gideon’s eyes furrow, and he can’t hold back from nudging Hotch’s shoulder, pointing in Spencer’s direction. Hotch pulls himself away from his conversation with JJ, and Gideon can see his expression morph from mild interest, to confusion, to complete bewilderment. After a beat, his face turns to meet Gideon’s and his normally stoic demeanor is shaken, eyes wide.
Spencer, however, doesn’t even notice his mentors’ faces, still tapping away at his phone and craning his neck to look around the bar.
It’s a while later, when JJ has pulled the team (minus Hotch and Gideon) onto the dance floor, a few drinks past tipsy at this point. She’s laughing out loud, holding Elle’s hand and twirling her under her arm. Penelope and Derek are mock-waltzing, bursting into laughter every few steps, and Spencer…
JJ pauses for a moment, before Elle pulls her into moving again. Her head whips around, trying to find Spencer, before giving up. He must be back at the table with Hotch and Gideon, he was never very comfortable dancing anyway.
The four on the dance floor quickly devolve into a mess, swapping partners until they’re all dizzy and laughing. JJ and Penelope are shimmying back and forth together, when Penelope gasps a little, tapping JJ’s arm without ceasing her movements. “Jayj! Look, see that girl at the bar?” She gestures subtly at a younger woman, probably in her early twenties, wearing a purple wrap top that has JJ sighing wistfully.
“Pen, I think I’ve seen my soulmate. Would it be weird for me to crawl over there and beg her for her shirt?” Penelope giggles, gripping JJ’s forearms so they can sway to the music dramatically. “Just a little, my sweet. How about we go ask her where it’s from, though? I think that would be a little more…” She goes uncharacteristically silent, and it has JJ twisting to see what shut her up. However, Penelope tightens her grip on her arms, keeping her from moving.
“JJ. My love, my heart. You’ll always be honest with me, won’t you?” Now she’s worried. JJ nods quickly, deciding to just focus on Penelope. “Yeah, Garcia, of course. What’s wrong?”
“I think I’m seeing things, and you are one of the most qualified people in the world to tell me if I’m going crazy. I’m going to turn us around, and you’re going to look at the woman in that gorgeous top, and you are going to either scream, or send me off to Hotch for a psychological evaluation.” Her tone is serious, hushed, and JJ nods solemnly.
The intricate plan is conducted, and JJ is now facing the bar, her eyes searching for the girl, when she stiffens, sucking in a breath. “Yes! I’m not crazy, you see it right? What is going on!” Penelope smacks her arm repeatedly, but JJ can’t tear her eyes away from it. It being something she couldn’t possibly have prepared herself for, not in her wildest imaginations.
The girl is sitting on a barstool, sipping at a cocktail, and chatting to… Spencer. Spencer, the BAU’s Spencer, child-prodigy-lovable-dork-awkward-mess Spencer Reid, is stood in between her legs, smiling down at Mystery Girl without a hint of fear. It’s devastatingly sweet, his eyes soft in a way she’s never seen before, as he nods along with whatever she’s saying. Penelope jolts her out of her trance with a tap to the arm, JJ whispering, “He’s so… carefree.”
That’s the only way to describe it. He’s looking down at her, eyes locked onto hers, and he’s still. His hands aren’t tapping, his leg isn’t shaking. He’s just looking at her.
JJ can feel Morgan and Elle huddle near her, questioning Penelope about what they’re looking at, before shutting up as they see it. She hears them take twin gasps, and huddle even closer. They stand in silence, surely a hindrance to the people dancing, but they can’t tear themselves away.
It’s only when Spencer shatters their worlds once more that they finally find themselves able to move. Four pairs of eyes follow him, as he leans even further towards Mystery Girl, and they all bulge at once when he raises a hand, carding his fingers through her hair. Penelope whispers, “oh my god”, Elle grips JJ’s arm in a vice grip, and Derek makes an unseemly noise, before gripping their arms, tugging them back to the booth.
They collapse in the seats, faces pale as they look at each other, next to a very confused Gideon and Hotch.
“What? What is it?” Hotch questions them, brow furrowed deeply. None of them speak, however. Only Elle lifts a weak hand to point. She directs their attention to the sight at the bar, and they all turn back to it, gasping once again. They’re… “kissing,” Derek breathes, shocked. Hotch and Gideon stiffen, but still crane their heads until their eyes fall on what has rendered their highly trained team speechless. And their reactions are just as silent.
Mystery Girl has stood up, her arms around Spencer’s neck, and he’s leaned down to meet her lips, hands braced on her hips. It’s honestly not that scandalous, a lazy, casual kiss that they part from with twin smiles, but the FBI agents can’t handle it. They don’t say a word, straining their ears to hear whatever she is saying as he holds her hand (Penelope lets out a squeak at that), and walks with her towards the door, not even noticing that his coworkers have returned to the booth. Her voice is low, but Hotch manages to pick up a few of the words.
“...go home and watch that movie I was telling you about? Metropolis, I think you’ll really…” And they’re off. Spencer Reid has left a bar, holding hands with a girl (that he’s apparently spoken to multiple times? Who refers to a place as home for both of them?), acting like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
The group sits in silence, unable to muster a comment, when Penelope’s phone buzzes. She checks it, and silently turns the screen over so they can all read it.
BOY GENIUS: Hey Garcia. I wasn’t feeling well so I decided to go home. See you Monday :-)
“What?”
#early seasons!spence my beloved#earlyseasons!spencer#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#writing#bau team#jj jareau#penelope garcia#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#matthew gray gubler#mystery girl!au
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MISTLETOE MAKE UP — JACK HUGHES
jack hughes x fem!reader
summary: in which luke plays christmas cupid after watching jack mope around missing his ex-girlfriend. (6.2k words)
notes: honestly hard to believe that this is my final hockey fic, i just wanna say thank you to everyone who has interacted with any of my fics because i really appreciate all the love and kindness that’s spread on here, and a big thank you to @thedevilrisen for allowing me the honor of participating in this wonderful Ho Ho Hockey event as my farewell to NHL fic writing 🤍 i hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it 🤍
“i’ll pay you.”
desperation drips from the lowly whispered words as Luke unlaces his skates from beside his captain.
“i don’t want your money.” Nico rolls his eyes at the young player, matching his hushed tone. both men give a quick once over at their teammate across the locker room before their heads dip low, bowing together to continue their private conversation, “why are you so set on this?”
“i can’t answer that.” Luke huffs out quickly, Nico’s curiosity rising farther, “can you just make it happen?”
Nico shrugs, “i guess so. but i want the answer after the party.”
Luke pulls away, kicking off his skates, “that’s fine. if all goes to plan, you’ll understand my plan quicker than that.”
with that, Luke turns away, carrying on in his undressing after the conclusion of practice.
***
“secret santa time! everyone take one name from the hat as i make my way around!” Nico’s voice booms across the locker room, attracting everyone’s attention to the black New Jersey Devils hat grasped in his hand, nearly overflowing with pieces of folded paper inside.
eyes meeting with Luke’s, Nico gives a nearly inconceivable nod, affirming their previous conversation. he makes his way around the locker room, letting each player pick a name out of the hat, purposefully skipping over his close friend until he’s the last to pick.
with a subtle switch of the hat to his other hand, the Devils captain drops one final slip of folded paper into the empty hat before making his way over.
Jack disinterestedly plucks the final piece of paper from the hat, his dulled eyes widening as he reads the name.
“alright, everyone has a name! that’s who you’re getting a gift for!”
“hey, Neeks?” Jack’s voice pipes up.
“NO SWITCHING!” Nico calls out, cutting his fellow forward off before he can get the chance to ask. “see you all for practice tomorrow!”
avoiding Jack’s lingering presence, Nico grabs his things before hauling out of the locker room; leaving his friend behind him, blinking in wonder as he questions what the hell he’s gonna do now.
Nico’s already typing out a quick text as he climbs into his car, hitting send before he even leaves the arena.
to: Y/N
Hey, just did the secret santa drawing. You have Jack. No switches. See you at the party!
***
“i want it to be cute.” her statement causes a chuckle to bubble up Luke’s throat.
“the whole point of an ugly christmas sweater is for it to be ugly, y/n.” his reply earns him a disapproving groan from the other side of the phone.
“you know what i mean,” she lilts, “of course it’ll be an ugly christmas sweater, but there’s a difference between cute ugly and ugly ugly, ya know?”
“uhhh, no? is this a girly thing?” Luke questions his friend as he beeline’s through the crowded department store, knowing exactly what to grab. “like when you used to tell Jack that you would be ready in five minutes but really you meant fifteen minutes but you didn’t wanna say fifteen minutes cause you knew he’d whine?”
“what? you know what, nevermind. i don’t have time for this. thank you for grabbing me a sweater but i have to get back to work, i’ll see you at the party.” her words come out rushed and whispered, cluing Luke in that her break is over and she’s back in the office.
“yeah, i’ll bring the sweater to the party for you. see you.”
his eyes lock on the bright red sweater in front of him, a perfect match to one he knows is laying on the back of a chair in he and Jack’s apartment. pulling her size off the rack, he makes his way to the cashier and pays before heading back out to his car; hiding the sweater in the glovebox so his brother doesn’t see it.
***
the sweater is slightly itchy and she knows he definitely grabbed the wrong size.
“does it fit okay?”
no.
“yeah,” she nods, the perfectly styled curls in her hair bouncing with every bob of her head, “thank you, Lukey. i really appreciate it.“
“it’s no problem.” he swallows, his eyes drifting toward the closed entry of Nico’s apartment, the loud laughter of his team and their significant others carrying through the thick wooden door. “you ready?”
“do you want me to lie? or should i be honest?” her self deprecating chuckle tells Luke all he needs to know.
“isn’t it time you guys faced each other? maybe this is what you need.”
“what i need is a drink,” a deep puff of breath releases from her mouth in an exasperated sigh.
“what am i even doing here? i said yes to coming over a month ago, when i actually belonged here, Luke. nobody wants me here except apparently you and Nico.” Luke’s heart aches at the unshed tears that gather in her eyes, obviously reminiscing on what went down just a month prior.
“no, we all want you here. what you mean is that you don’t think Jack wants you here.” he corrects, “which is also wrong. he may not admit it, but i know he’s looking forward to seeing you.”
“if he wanted to see me, he would call me. or text me. or show up at my damn door.” she mutters dejectedly, “we broke up. he doesn’t wanna see me.”
“y/n-” Luke starts, the truth sitting on the tip of his tongue.
that Jack has been miserable without her.
that he’s been driving Luke crazy asking how she’s doing.
that Jack hasn’t called or texted or shown up at her door because he thinks she doesn’t want to see him.
that he hasn’t been himself since they broke up and that it’s causing Luke to wanna put his head through a wall.
but before Luke can voice any of that, the door beside him swings open, the hinges creaking as his older brother steps into the hall.
“oh,” Jack stops; freezing when he locks eyes with the girl standing just a few feet away, “hey.”
her back steels and for anyone else, it would seem as though y/n is completely unbothered; indifferent to the run-in. but Luke could spot the sadness in her eyes from a mile away.
“hi.” she stammers, the hands in which she grips a gift bag of red and green tissue paper being shoved behind her back.
the hallway is quiet for a moment, the two ex-lovers silently inspecting each other with an identical expression of love and loss; wanting and wishing; pain and desperation.
and when Luke sees they’ve taken notice of their matching sweaters, looking down at themselves before their eyes dart back to each other? he knows, it’s time to get his plan started.
“let’s get this party started!”
taking the lead, Luke enters through the doorway, the two exes following behind him at respectable distances until they arrive into the crowded apartment.
y/n tries to keep close to Luke, but quickly loses track of him as he disappears amongst his teammates.
“Y/N!” a mellow accent calls out, a hefty arm slinging over her shoulder as she sets the aforementioned gift bag on a table of presents.
“hi, Timo.” she smiles, gifting a quick squeeze to the taller man beside her.
but as she hugs one man, her eyes drift to another, accidentally colliding with the icy blue of Jack’s as he stares at his teammate with a look that sends a rack of shivers down her spine.
“i didn’t think you were coming,” the swiss grins, finally taking a step back and letting his arm fall back down to his side. his eyebrows lift as he looks between the former couple, “are you guys back together?”
at the question, Jack coughs, slowly shaking his head as y/n answers, “no- uh, no.”
before Timo can ask any more questions, Luke reappears by her side, filling the gap of space between she and Jack.
“are you coming to get a drink or what?” a knowing smile rests upon his lips, y/n’s eyes narrowing at his chipper attitude.
but the need to take the edge of anxiety off her shoulders overrides any sense of self preservation that she previously held.
“lead the way.”
Luke cocks his head toward the doorway that she knows leads to the kitchen. as she follows behind him, Jack hot on her trail, she’s reminded of all the times she’s been in this apartment before; team parties and hang outs with the guys, accompanying Jack as he dropped things off to his captain, and the very first time he introduced her to his friends.
she nearly runs into Luke’s back as he makes an abrupt stop just inside the kitchen, causing Jack to side step and pause in the entryway beside her in order to avoid bumping into her.
“oh hey, mistletoe!” Luke chimes, a bit too happy as he waves a hand above where the former couple stands.
two heads snap up to look above them, cheeks becoming a ferocious shade of red as they glance between each other and the plant that hangs above their heads.
“ooooh!” a voice sings out in a childishly teasing tone and Jack and y/n look over to see Dougie standing beside Luke, pointing at the dangling mistletoe. his loud tone garners the attention of the many people who hang about the kitchen, several eyes widening as they spot the plant above the exes.
“kiss!” Bree calls out as she sidles up beside her fiancé, “if Dougie and i had to, and Nicole and Jesper had to, and hell, even Timo and Nico had to, then so do you! kiss!”
her words start a chant amongst the crowded area, a dozen or so people loudly chorusing the word “kiss!” over and over, their eyes glued to Jack and y/n, who stand in the doorway with blushing cheeks and sad eyes.
“you don’t have to,” y/n starts, her voice a mere whisper as she tries not to choke on her words.
“it’s okay. let’s just give the people what they want,” Jack cuts her off.
allowing muscle memory to take control, his hand rests upon the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair as he guides her lips to his. as his lips make a featherlight brush against hers, y/n allows her eyes to flutter shut, her cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and want.
Jack slots his lips against hers, his breath stilling as he reminisces on the time when he could do this freely. the time he wants back so damn badly.
the time before he started that petty argument over her always steaming up the bathroom and leaving a puddle of water outside the shower. before she accused him of starting things just to argue. before he said those six little words. those six stupid words that he’s come to regret more than anything else he’s ever said or done. those six foolish words that have caused him more misery and pain than any injury ever could.
“maybe we should just break up!”
her body melts into his, her hand resting on his chest, settling over his rapidly beating heart. the kiss is just as good as she remembers, still soft and sweet and dripping with feelings of love and comfort. his hands on her skin still fill her with excitement and a sense of security that she’s only ever felt with him.
as he pulls away, she only just stops herself from chasing his lips once more; from stealing his breath one more time and capturing his lips with hers once again.
but she doesn’t do that.
she refrains and allows him to step back, the loss of his touch leaving a chilly breeze in the place his hand had just occupied. and a whole new sense of longing pangs in her chest.
but when they both look back to the crowded kitchen, no one is paying them any attention. the gaggle of people have resumed whatever conversations they had held before the exes arrival.
“a drink,” she whispers, her fingertips tracing over her slightly swollen lips as she walks toward the countertop occupied by several bottles of liquor and soda, “i need a drink.”
but as she reaches for a bottle of berry flavored vodka, she risks one glance over her shoulder, her eyes locking on Jack’s downturned head as he stares at his shoes. his body is still rooted in the entryway, his own hands rubbing over his face as he seems to angrily mutter to himself.
and as she turns back to mixing herself a drink, Jack’s own eyes rise to look at her stiffened shoulders and rigid posture. watching her mix her signature drink of lemonade and berry vodka, all he can do is scold himself and observe as she takes a sip and then turns to greet his captain as he steps up beside her.
and all Jack can think is how badly he wants to taste the sweet and alcoholic taste on her lips as he kisses her again.
without the help of a stupid plant this time.
***
y/n has spent the last hour of her time engaged in conversations with anyone she can talk to; actively avoiding her ex and hoping he can’t see just how flustered that kiss made her feel. and just how badly she wants to do it again.
y/n watches as Luke bounces around the room, taking note that he’s only speaking to the fellow singles of the team.
what is he up to?
“so you and Jack,” her attention is pulled back to the conversation at hand, her face turning towards Nicole once again, “you guys are finally back together?”
y/n opens her mouth to deny, but Nicole just keeps talking, “i mean, it’s about time. everyone knew it would happen, we were just biting our tongues and waiting for Jack to stop being so mopey and get his head out of his ass long enough to apologize for whatever he did.”
Nicole laughs at her own words as y/n blinks in surprise.
mopey? jack was moping?
wasn’t this exactly what he wanted?
what he asked for?
“we’re not together again,” y/n sighs, shaking her head as she allows her eyes to search out her ex for the hundredth time that night, “Luke and Nico said i still had to come, so here i am.”
“oh,” Nicole’s eyes widen, a true deer-in-headlights look if y/n had ever seen one, “i’m sorry, forget i said anything.”
“it’s okay, you’re not the first to ask tonight,” y/n chuckles, a twinge of sarcasm laced within the sound, “and you probably won’t be the last. it’s odd that i’m here, right? i tried to back out and Nico and Luke wouldn’t let me, but i shouldn’t be here, right? this is his territory.”
Nicole shakes her head, her hand coming up to gently rub against y/n’s arm in a comforting motion as she cuts off her rambles, “you have every right to be here. you became friends with everyone here just as much as he did, y/n.”
“i don’t know,” y/n shrugs in a self-pity filled moment, “it feels like maybe i should just go home, you know? i don’t wanna make him any more uncomfortable than i already have.”
Nicole laughs, her head tipping back as a shrill giggle escapes her lips. as she composes herself from her outburst, she gazes at y/n’s furrowed brows and confused expression before pushing her face to look over at Jack, who stands across the room laughing at something Curtis said.
“does that look like he’s uncomfortable to you?” Nicole huffs out another laugh as she shakes her head, “that boy has been looking at you like a lovesick puppy all night. he’s seemed happier tonight than he has after any winning game in this past month.”
“i-”
“gingerbread house time!” Nico’s booming accent sweeps across the apartment, attracting the attention of the entire crowd of people, “get in pairs and go to one of the stations of gingerbread because the best gingerbread house at the end of the hour gets a mystery prize!”
when y/n looks back to Nicole, Jesper has already glued himself to his fiancée’s side, ushering her towards the dining room table.
turning towards where she last saw Luke, y/n is more than a little affronted to see him stood beside Timo at one of the gingerbread house stations; and the more she looks around the room, the more she’s realizing that everyone already seems to be paired up.
everyone except the very person she had hoped would be paired up. the very person who is walking right towards her with an awkwardly bashful smile.
“guess it’s you and me,” Jack shrugs, pushing his hands deep within his front pockets as y/n nods, a pink hue lighting up her cheeks as her shoulder bumps his when they take their place in front of the last available station.
y/n easily takes the lead, the more creative of the two, and Jack is all too happy to just follow her instructions. he watches in silent admiration as she decorates each wall of the house with a white icing bag and attempts to copy her designs on the symmetrical pieces in order for to help finish their house faster.
Jack takes pleasure in the light grazes of their fingers as they stick the walls of the gingerbread house together. noting the blush that creeps upon her cheeks and neck as she giggles when he mocks a salute after each order she makes of him.
they work in tandem, a well-oiled machine as they construct the house, sneaking peeks at other houses as they work; studying their competition.
“i think we’ve got this in the bag,” Jack tells her, his head bowing down to whisper in her ear. her entire body heats as his lips ghost the shell of her ear; a shiver tracing down her spine when the oddly intoxicating scent of mint and beer hits her nostrils, along with the overwhelmingly familiar warmth of his cologne, “poor bastards, i’ve got a secret weapon that they don’t even realize.”
“oh yeah?” a smirk curls at the side of her lips. she pulls away to look in his eyes, a familiar feeling buried deep within them that makes her heart speed up in her chest, “and what’s that?”
Jack grins, electricity buzzing between them as he dips his head lower, their faces inches apart, “you.”
heat pools deep within her stomach, that same fuzzy feeling she used to get when he would flop on top of her in bed after a long day. when he would tease her that it was his ‘recharging’ time and that he needed to hear her heartbeat to remind him that she’s alive and that he was lucky enough for her to choose him out of all the guys in Newark.
y/n loses herself in the memory, zoning out as her eyes focus on watching Jack apply icing the roof of the gingerbread house, whilst her mind is far off in the past.
“time’s up!” Nico’s exclamation pulls her back to the present, Jack’s hand dropping the icing bag on the table. they stand back to study their creation, shoulders bumping as they both nod in agreement of their job well done.
Nico slowly makes his way around the stations, carefully studying each and every gingerbread house until he finally makes it to the former couple, a clap of his hands startling the two ex-lovers.
“i think we have a winner!” Nico shouts, making a wild wave of his hands towards their gingerbread house, “congratulations, Jack and y/n!”
everyone slowly retreats back to the living room, leaving the three of them behind in the dining area.
“here’s your prize,” Nico smirks knowingly, handing y/n a slip of paper, “i suggest using it during the break.”
Jack peers over her shoulder, his close proximity making y/n a little woozy as she feels his chest press against her back while her reads the paper in her hands. the two don’t even notice Nico retreating, too busy staring at the paper.
“a couples massage?” y/n blinks, “what was he planning to do if Timo and Luke had won? were they gonna have a romantic massage together?”
“i think we both know Luke would never win a gingerbread house competition,” Jack laughs, their eyes drawing up to look over at Luke and Timo’s half built house, which is missing a roof and a wall, “i’m pretty sure he ate half their house… and Nate’s.”
the house beside Luke and Timo’s also lacks a wall, and when y/n glances into the living room, she sees Luke idling beside a few of his teammates. a half eaten wall of gingerbread clutched in his grasp, making her choke out a laugh.
“he’s still eating it,” she knocks her body back against Jack’s, pointing his younger brother out to him.
but Jack is too busy to look. too focused on where her back has leaned to rest lazily against his chest, just like she used to do when she began to tire out while they were hanging with his team. when she used to lean back against him, her head resting against his shoulder as his arms wrapped around her midsection, holding her up as she her blinking got slower and heavier. yet she always refused to go, telling him she didn’t want to cut his time with his friends short.
“well, uh, you can have this,” she stammers, stepping away and putting the dreaded distance back between them as she turns and holds the paper out towards Jack.
“no, you can have it,” he shakes his head, pushing her hand back toward her chest, “i wouldn’t be able to put it to use.”
“you think i would?” she blinks, “i’m sure you can give it to your parents or something, just take it.”
“you hold on to it.” he insists, stepping back when she tries to hold the paper back out to him, “maybe you’ll end up needing it.”
“what if i don’t wanna use it with anyone?” she remarks, “you know i don’t feel comfortable doing that kind of stuff with people.”
“you did it with me,” his response makes her freeze, her body tensing at the first verbal acknowledgment of their relationship.
“that was different.” she mutters, tears now burning at the backs of her eyes, trying to push their way out.
“why?” he questions, eyebrows threading together as though to mock confusion, because she knows that he knows why. he just wants to hear her say it.
and how cruel that is.
how cruel he is for making her remind him of how special he was to her; how comfortable he made her.
“because it was you.” her words are a whisper, her voice breaking on several syllables as she sets the paper down on the table.
Jack is fast with a reply, but y/n’s feet are faster, carrying her out of the room and down the hallway before he can get a word out. she locks herself in the bathroom, tears breaking free and flowing down her cheeks.
she’s no longer capable of holding them back. no longer able to pretend any longer that she doesn’t regret walking away; letting him win that argument instead of fighting for them. for him.
“y/n?” a knock sounds at the bathroom door, Luke’s voice carrying through the wood, “you in there?”
clearing her throat, y/n shakes her head in attempt to pull herself together.
“yeah!” she calls back, plucking a tissue from the box on the counter and dabbing at her tear stained cheeks.
“we’re about to do secret santa.” Luke informs her, and y/n nods, though she knows he can’t see her.
“i’ll be right out!” she amends, wiping her nose and throwing the crumpled tissue into the wastebasket.
she’s runs a hand over her hair, making sure she looks presentable before she opens the door to a worrisome Luke.
“are you okay?”
“never better!” she paints on a grin, bumping her hip against his in a cheerful manner as she makes her way past him, making her way back to the living room.
everyone is standing around when she arrives, watching as Dawson opens a gift bag and pulls out a hat, a hoodie, and an extremely broken candy cane.
“thank you, secret santa.” he chuckles, making Curtis nod.
“you’re welcome.” Curtis looks especially pleased with himself, causing the crowded living room to laugh, “the candy cane was Owen’s contribution.”
“that makes more sense.” Dawson laughs, fist bumping Curtis as he sits down on the armrest of the sofa.
“let’s see who’s next,” Nico trails off, plucking a badly wrapped present from the top of the gift table. he reads the name tag on the gift, smirking as he does so, “y/n.”
“oh, okay,” she gives a soft smile, accepting the gift from Nico’s outstretched hands.
peeling off the paper from the heavy gift, y/n’s eyes widen at the black Coach purse she’s been eyeing for months. her heart stops, only two people in this very room knowing how badly she’s been wanting this exact extra roomy purse. but as she holds it in her hands, she feels something hard and heavy on the inside. peering inside the purse, her hands tremble at the sight that greets her. inside the spacious purse, sits a special edition copy of a book she knows she’s pointed out at Barnes & Noble, remarking about how it’s her favorite book. and underneath the gorgeous foiled covered book with sprayed edges, rests two gift cards; one to that very book store, and another to Amazon.
there’s only one person who would know both how badly she’s wanted this purse, and how badly she wanted this special edition copy.
her eyes rise slowly, blinking back even more tears as she gazes across the room at her ex-boyfriend, a d the way her worries at his bottom lip in anxious anticipation of her reaction, confirms her suspicions of who her secret santa was.
“thank you, Jack.” she whispers softly, unsure if he could even hear her, but when he nods in acknowledgment, she knows he did, “i love them.”
“yeah, of course,” he coughs, nodding his head again, attempting extremely hard to keep his composure, “it was no problem.”
“alright!” Nico grins widely, seeming particularly happy as he locks eyes with Luke who idles beside him, “next is…”
Nico picks another gift from the table and reads the name tag before handing it off to someone else. it goes like that for at least fifteen minutes, practically every gift some variation of the same things; a hoodie, a hat, a wallet, a full upper body heating pad, etc.
but while everyone else is watching as gifts are opened and secret santa’s become less secret, y/n’s eyes keep wandering to the man who stands across the room. the one who finds her looking at him more than once.
but can he blame her?
her heart swells in her chest as she peeks back down at her gifts. he knew her so well. he knew exactly what she wanted and he made it happen. and that thought alone had her planning to pull him to the side later. she needed to talk to him, one on one. a real talk this time, not surrounded by people but just them and their words.
“Jack,” Nico smirks, handing the familiar gift bag over to the man of her attention.
y/n watches with bated breath as Jack pulls out the tissue paper at the top of the bag, his hand reaching in to pull out the first gift; a Carhartt half-zip that she had seen him eyeing a couple months ago. she can’t guarantee that he hasn’t gotten any of the gifts for himself in the time they’ve been apart, but she crosses her fingers in hopes that he hasn’t.
she studies Jack’s crooked smile as he eyes the half-zip, and she knows he’s probably already mentally planning an outfit to go with it. which makes her huff a laugh to herself underneath her breath.
Jack then reaches in and pulls out a box, which y/n knows belongs to the kindle she bought two months ago when he made a comment about needing to get himself one as he cuddled up with his head on her stomach whilst she read on hers. Jack’s eyes dart up to hers after he spots the last thing in the bag, opening the shoe box to reveal a brand new pair of golf shoes, the same pair he had showed her a few months prior and said he wanted to get for the next summer.
a wary smile stretches tightly across her lips, hoping and praying to whatever higher power there may be that he doesn’t already have any of the gifts.
“thank you, y/n.” he smiles a wide toothy grin as he puts the gifts back in the bag.
“you’re welcome.”
the routine starts again, the final few people opening their gifts as Jack and y/n glance at each other with longing deep within their eyes.
once the final person has opened their gift, the party resumes to its regularly scheduled holiday music and chatter, and Luke and Nico watch from a corner of the room as Jack and y/n continue to steal glances at each other.
with hesitant steps, they meet in the middle of the living room, y/n’s hands trembling as she builds up her courage.
“i-” “do you-”
they both give an awkward chuckle as they speak over each other.
“you first,” Jack cocks his head as she takes a deep breath, collecting herself.
“do you wanna go somewhere we can talk?” she asks, before clarifying, “in private.”
Jack nods, “yeah, c’mon.”
he leads her down the hallway of doors, stepping into the open guest room as she follows behind him. he takes a seat on the end of the bed, setting his gift bag on the floor beside him.
“thank you for my gifts.” her voice shakes as she stops in front of him, setting her new purse gingerly on the bed before sitting beside him, “you’re very thoughtful. i didn’t think you’d paid that much attention to my yapping.”
Jack’s eyes darken at her sorrowful chuckle, his brows furrowing, “y/n, i listened to everything you said.”
her own eyebrows raise in surprise as he continues, “listening to you talk is my favorite thing in the world.”
is.
not ‘was’.
is.
“oh,” she blinks, trying to decide what to make of his words, “besides hockey, you mean.”
“i said what i said, y/n.” he shakes his head, “i like hearing you talk about things you love and things you’re passionate about.”
her heart skips what she feels is numerous beats as he waves a hand towards the gifts beside her, “you told me about these things a few months ago and i bought them right after you told me.”
“that purse?” he muses, “i bought that online as you were laying on my chest. literally right after you showed it to me for the first time. i didn’t even need to buy any new gifts for the secret santa because i had them all sitting on the top shelf of my closet.”
his eyebrows furrow and his eyes narrow as he corrects himself, “except the book. i pre-ordered that when you showed it to me online but it got here last week.”
her eyes are soft as she observes the man in front of her, soaking in every word he said. blood collects in her cheeks as she regards him, as she comes to realize just how much he loved her.
“i bought your presents a few months ago too,” she quirks, “i was slowly collecting them to give you at christmas but…”
she trails off, refusing to say the words that hang in the air.
they broke up.
they’re not together anymore.
he wanted them to be over.
“y/n,” he starts with a heavy sigh, her eyes trailing back up from the floor to look at his face, “i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry.”
“if i could take back everything i said, i would. i was stressed and i took it out on you and it wasn’t right. i know it wasn’t right. i said things that i regret now. god, i wish you could understand how badly i regret them. as soon as you left, i knew i had fucked up. i wanted to take it all back so bad, but i couldn’t because i said them and you were gone. i didn’t think you would want anything to do with me after that, so i gave you your space and i thought i was doing what was right by leaving you alone, but if i could go back? i never would’ve said we should break up.”
her eyes sting as a single tear trails down her cheek. listening to him express his regret and anger with himself has her desperate to touch him; to comfort him in any way she can.
“i love you, y/n. and i know it’s probably too late, but i just need you to know how sorry i am for what happened, and i need you to know that i do still love you.”
Jack takes a deep breath, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears as he attempts to blink them back, because he doesn’t want her to think he turned on the waterworks to try and make her feel sorry for him. he doesn’t want her to take him back out of pity. he doesn’t expect her to take him back at all.
because he wouldn’t, if he were her.
he couldn’t blame her. he was a jerk, and he hurt her when she didn’t deserve it.
“i’m sorry i left.” her words are raspy and choked, so quiet that Jack can barely make them out. but his head snaps up in surprise as he registers her statement.
“y/n, no-” but before he can tell her she nothing to apologize for, she cuts him off.
“i’m sorry i didn’t fight you harder. i should’ve yelled and screamed if i needed to. i should’ve fought to keep us, and instead i just walked away. and i’m so sorry that i did, Jack.” her voice trembles, cracking on a few syllables as she turns to face him better.
“i love you so much, and i should’ve fought harder to keep you. i knew you were stressed and i knew that you probably weren’t in the right mindset, but i still left. because, i thought once you were feeling better, you would’ve called or texted or shown up or something. but then you didn’t and i realized that maybe i made a mistake by leaving your apartment that night. i realized that maybe i should’ve stayed and fought with you. i should’ve told you ‘no’ when you said we should break up. i should’ve refused. but then i thought, maybe you really did just mean it. maybe i was the reason you were stressed. maybe you truly just didn’t want to be with me anymore. and i had to accept that. but i still haven’t accepted it, because i still want you.”
before she can even think to say more, her mouth is covered by his, a breathless and heated kiss pressed to her lips.
tangling his hands in her hair, Jack pulls her even closer to him, his tongue swiping across her bottom lip. her lips part beneath his, and his tongue slips between them, leaving soft caresses against her own as she lets out a low whimper.
pulling back, they both pant for air, their bodies alight with the soft hum of electricity that sparks when they’re close.
“if you’ll still have me, i still really really want you,” he murmurs, his lips brushing lightly against hers with every move.
with her forehead pressed against his, she nods eagerly, pressing a chaste kiss against his lips, “please.”
“you gonna be my girlfriend again?” he nearly begs, a smile lighting up his face as she nods again, humming an ‘mhm’ in agreement, “i love you, pretty girl.”
“i love you too,” she whispers, coaxing his lips back to hers in another heavy, breathless kiss.
one of his hands travels down her body, bunching under her sweater as her hands grip his in fistfuls at his hips.
“you’re welcome!”
the two newly reunited lovers jolt apart, heads snapping to look at the doorway, Luke idles with his arms crossed against his chest.
“what?” Jack scoffs, scowling at his younger brother.
“you didn’t seriously think tonight happened by fate, did you?” it’s Luke’s turn to scoff, “i asked Nico to make sure you got each other for secret santa, i made sure everyone else was partnered up for the gingerbread houses, i made sure you got matching sweaters, and i made you stop under the mistletoe.”
Luke shakes his head as he continues, “do you know how fucking exhausting it was watching you two mope around for the past month and ask me for updates on each other? you’re welcome! this is the only christmas gift you’re getting from me, so don’t expect anything else.”
Jack and y/n stare at Luke in a daze, astonished by his outburst.
“um, thank you?” she lilts, tilting her head as she watches Luke push off the doorframe and spin around.
“mhm! i’m staying here at Nico’s tonight. you’re welcome! again!”
#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes fic#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes#nhl fic#nhl imagine#faithlynn’s writings <3#ho ho hockey 2024 🎄#HHH 🎄#jh86
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A bunch of cuties in love | A.H.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader
Content warning: fluff, nicknames (i think that's about it?)
Word Count: 2.2K
Summary: Running late to a meeting with Strauss, Hotch leaves Jack with his favorite person - you. The scene that greets him when he comes back leads to some realizations.
Request: Hotch request: BAU!Reader is Jack’s favorite and always spends the day with them when he’s brought along to the office. They have a cute bonding moment that Hotch secretly watches. Cue the “oh god I’m in love with them aren’t I”
A/N: it’s been two months today since I made this blog, and it’s been wild, it’s been fun, and it’s been a little teary. thank you for the love and support! Please enjoy this cute little hotch piece, I had a blast writing it! Thank you to the anon who requested this, and I’d love to hear what you think! Also, I miss old Disney😭
masterlist
9:23.
On the days you weren’t working on a case, and the only thing you really needed to catch up on was paperwork, your usual start time was 8:30. Yet almost an hour had gone by and he wasn’t in his office like he usually would be.
With a punctual Unit Chief like Aaron Hotchner, it was a shock, and a little nerve-wracking that he was late.
You’d lie if you didn’t say you were getting a little worried, taking into account the last and only time he’d been late - Foyet attacking him in his own home, leaving him with long-lasting trauma, scars, and without his family.
You'd never forget that day, and every day after where he was left to suffer, laying the blame on himself. No matter how many times you said it, how many times Rossi patted him on the back, reminding him it wasn't his fault, you knew a part of him still didn't believe it.
And the part of you that cared about him, maybe a little more than you should, didn't have the heart to watch him do this to himself - the silent guilt, the long empty looks.
You’ve known him awhile, seen him through many of his ups, and just as many as his downs. You’d seen him laugh in glee and beam with happiness, you’d seen him lose it in anger and anguish and you’d seen him cry in heartbreak.
So much of your life spent beside him, so many memories linked with him, and your team. And much of it you knew was friendly love - your love for Emily and Spencer, JJ and Morgan, Penelope and Rossi. But the love you felt for him was just a tiny bit different, deeper, not the friendly kind.
You’d only recently started to understand what you were really feeling for him, as recent as the last few weeks. Still new and a little unexplainable at times, you were learning to balance that, within your friendship.
You didn’t think you wanted to pursue anything, right now. It had been a little over two years since he’d lost Haley, since he’d needed to start navigating his life as a single dad, a widower.
You could still see the pain in his eyes, fresh as the day it had happened. You knew he was managing, but it was still apparent, that it was hitting them both hard.
And Jack? He was a little ray of sunshine in the otherwise gruesome life all of you led - the same could be said about Henry. But Henry was Reid's favorite, as his godfather, you knew the bond between them was unbreakable.
But Jack? You were his favorite, and he was yours.
He was your little buddy, your partner in all things art, cartoons, and Disney shows. He was your little helper during all things baking - you'd babysat once and he'd requested chocolate chip, peanut butter cookies and you'd been more than happy to help him make them.
He was a natural baker and a little taster.
Your love for the little cutie ran as deep as your feelings for his dad.
At the end of the day though, you were a friend, a shoulder both could use to lean on and rely on. You were comfortable in your role within their little family and weren't looking to make any changes then.
9:28.
You were playing with your watch, already having decided you’d be giving him a call if he didn't arrive by 9:30.
Worry was making your hands sweat, and just as you went to wipe them on your pants, the door to the bullpen opened, and in walked a very frantic Hotch - his tie was a little crooked, shirt a little wrinkled, and Jack - a little backpack on his back, and a curious look paired with a timid smile.
Aaron's eyes searched the bullpen, as did Jack's, the little Hotchner noticing you seconds before his father did. You stood up, watching as the blond pulled away from his dad, and on a little run, made his way towards you.
“Cutiee.” He called out, using the nickname you called him, to address you too. You leaned down when he was a few steps away, accepting his hug, his little arms wrapping around your neck.
“Hi, cutie.” You greeted him, a wide smile on your face. Hotch had made his way over to you by then, giving you a barely-there smile, but his eyes shone.
“You're late.” You started, pulling to your full height.
“Yeah, Jessica was called on an emergency at the last minute, and Liah is away on a hiking trip, so here we are.” Liah was Hotch's neighbor, she looked after Jack for a few hours when Hotch couldn't stay with him, or Jess was busy.
He looked at his watch, running a hand through his hair, messing it up a little.
“I have a meeting with Strauss…well, right now. Can you please watch him until I get done?”
“Go, don't make her wait. We'll be okay and we're going to have fun. Right, Jack?” You watched him nod at both you and his dad before Hotch exhaled.
“You're a lifesaver. Be good for Y/N, okay buddy.” Another nod from Jack, and he was on his way to Strauss's office.
‘’Okay Jack, let's see if Aunt Penelope can download a few episodes of ‘The Suite Life’ for us, and then we'll go color and draw for a while. Does that sound good to you?”
“Very good. Can I also have orange juice?” He asked, taking your hand in his small, soft one, fingers wrapping around your own.
“Let's go see if we have any.” You walked towards the small communal kitchen space, checking the fridge and then you checked the pantry…and, “Bingo. Let's go see the lair.” You led him to Penelope's office.
“Knock, knock, may us mortals enter?” You joked, making your little partner giggle.
“Us?” Her voice rang from the other side of the door.
“I have sir Hotchner with me. The smaller one.”
“Hey,” Jack said in outrage
“My favorite Hotchner.” You added.
Penelope pulled the door open, beaming at both of you, before she made space for you to enter.
“Jack, my love, hi,” She raised her hand, letting him give her a high five. Even though she was affectionate, Jack wasn’t as much, especially after Haley. He only hugged a few people now - Jess, his dad, and surprisingly, you.
It really showed how comfortable he was with you.
“What brings you to my tech cave?” She asked. You raised your brows at him, prompting him to do the talking.
“Can you, please, download a few episodes of Zack and Cody for us?” His voice rang with its usual child calm and sweetness, fingers intertwined in front of him.
Penelope's smile softened even more, “Sure thing, sweetie,” Her eyes turned towards you then, “Your tablet?”
“Yes, please.” You knew it was a work tablet, but no one had to know.
“Any requests?” She asked the little guy.
“You pick.”
“Okay-dokey. Should have it in about 10 minutes, my loves.”
“Thank you, Aunt Penelope.”
“Thanks Pen.” You gave her air kisses before you led Jack out and towards his father's office.
His day had started rocky, hell, the whole night had gone that way.
Jack had woken up from a nightmare - twice at that. After the second time, he’d asked Aaron to sleep in his bed, too scared and sad to stay in his room.
He’d snoozed his alarm, just once, and had a hard time waking his son up too. He’d had 20 minutes to get himself ready, but Jessica had called 10 minutes before she was supposed to arrive - apologizing because she’d been called on an emergency at work.
Aaron had to rearrange his whole morning then, already aware he’d be late for work. He’d had to get Jack and his backpack ready and cook him breakfast. All of that, and be in the office before his 9:30 meeting with Strauss.
Breakfast and preparing Jack for a day at the BAU, he’d done successfully. Arriving on time had been a little tricky, with barely 2 minutes to spare.
But when he’d walked into the bullpen, Jack spotting you just seconds before he did, and he’d watched your smile grow, he’d known all would be okay.
Watching you with Jack always brought a warm feeling within him, like he was watching something sacred. You were always patient and kind, always interested in listening to him talk, even though he was a quiet kid, who appreciated quality time more.
You gave him that too, and a lot of it - you watched cartoons and shows with him. Colored and drew, baked cookies, and played with him whenever he wanted. Any time spent with Jack was about what he wanted, what he liked doing, and above all, making him comfortable.
Even if it meant cleaning flour off your kitchen floor and whatever had gotten in the drawers too.
He appreciated, even loved the bond you had with his son, every smile, every hug, and every minute you spend with him. He loved hearing about you from Jack - what you’d done together, what you’d told him, the stories, the jokes, the conversations.
Hearing his son proclaim you as his favorite person in the BAU had made his heart soar. Taking into account all the time you spent with him, it wasn’t really a surprise. He bonded hard, but once he did, he never went back.
He was much like Aaron himself in that regard. His trust had to be earned, as did his friendship, and it required hard work. Jack was much the same. And you’d successfully earned both of theirs with your beautiful and caring personality.
He exhaled a breath, checking his watch, step fast, and briefcase in hand.
11:18.
His meeting with Strauss had run longer than he’d anticipated - over an hour and a half. Diplomacy, politics, budgets, and cuts, they’d run through countless things, half of that meeting already fully blacked out from his memory.
He was tired - every meeting with Strauss left him drained. Worried, about Jack and his state of mind after last night. All he wanted to do was get to his office and check up on his son.
Walking into the bullpen for the second time that day, he quickly made his way towards his office, only to stop short at the window. The blinds were open, having forgotten to close them last night, so he had a clear and full view of his office.
You were sat on the couch close to the armrest, Jack cuddled against you, cheek squished against your collarbone, face almost buried in your neck.
Your work tablet sat propped on the coffee table, and your arm wrapped around his small body, keeping him close. His eyes were almost closed, your thumb running soothingly on his back.
He watched, mesmerized by the scene. He felt himself soften, all of him. His face, the furrow in his brow, and the tight set of his lips. His whole body, his heart, suddenly at peace.
For months he'd observed the kindness you showed everyone - the families of victims, heartbroken by the injustice of life. Passersby, people you might never see again. Your team, especially, your work family. Jack, and even Aaron himself.
And as he watched you with his son, the one person left in this world who truly loved him, no matter his rights or wrongs - he couldn't help but feel himself unravel.
Every little thought he'd had about you, every feeling he might have somehow suppressed in order to protect himself and his child, they all attacked him, in seconds.
Because the truth was, you earned his trust, his friendship, and somehow along the way, you'd won his heart as well.
Right at that moment, his heart pounded in need, in adoration, in pure, clear love. Love he hadn't allowed himself to feel since Haley. Love, he'd frankly hadn't felt in years, ever since he’d put his signature down on the dotted line.
He wanted to get home to see this. He wanted to see you put Jack to bed, and kiss his forehead with a whispered ‘good night’.
He wanted to stroke your cheek tenderly, pull you into a kiss that made you melt, and stroke a fire within you like no one else could.
He wanted to tell you he loved you - in the car, as he drove you to work. In the kitchen during breakfast and dinner. In his office, a few stolen moments as you worked. And under the sheets, while you made love.
And even through the fear that gripped him in a vice, of rejection, separation, and even trust - he still wanted to love you, as if he was loving someone for the first time again.
“Everything okay, Aaron?” David asked, passing on the way to his office.
Aaron barely spared him a glance, nodding his head a little, “Yeah, it's okay.”
He pushed the door to his office open and walked in, greeted by his new favorite sight, and his two favorite people.
Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#hotch x reader#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner x you#hotch x you#hotchner x reader#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds fanfic#aaron hotchner request
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"DO BETTER!" Says Now Televised Fanboy
He, Dash Baxter is a Phan-Stan!! It's kinda his thing. See, he's a fancy ass talk show host now. Married Paulie, moved out of Amity, actually DID something with his life. His parents? Did not approve. Long n short of it? He got kicked out.
Paulie's parents were PISSED.
Retaliated by giving him all the help he needed getting EVERY scholarship he qualified for. He went to a really nice college. Missed his girlfriend like mad. But she was off in Metropolis, terrifying weaker men. Conquering the fashion scene.
And SOMEHOW? Thanks to that long talk he had with Phantom (*incoherent fanboy gibbering noises* SO COOL!) he's worked to be... more of a LEADER, you know? Less of an asshole. Cause he's popular. People copy him. He can't be an asshole.
So, somehow, when he's punching out some try-hard that thinks he's hot shit for bullying a Nerd? He and the nerd get talking, right? Cause the guy got his glasses completely fucked up. And it's what Phantom would do.
But GET THIS? Guy's never HEARD of Phantom! Is super curious, cause he runs a small time Hero's show on the web. And, Dude? Is it your LUCKY DAY! Cause you just met THE number 1 fan of Phantom, hands down!! He makes his VERY spirited case, about why Phantom is THE best Hero to ever have lived. And this guy?
Entranced.
In AWE.
Just straight up BEGS him to join his show. Cause apparently? He was BORN for it. Which? Yeah. He HAS been giving speechs to the team for YEARS now. And Talking at fan meet ups. Leading fan meet ups. Hosting parties... actually, now that he thinks about it? He DOES do a lot of public speaking? Huh.
But still, he's about to say "no", when?
Dude mentions? He'll get to talk about Phantom.
SOLD!
It. Blows. Up. Absolutely EVERYONE is in love with his pretty face, hot bod, and STRONG opinions. But they ALSO have no idea who Phantom is! Paulie! This is CRIMINAL! Horrifying! What is going ON!?
Some bullshit information black out, apparently. At least according to her... friendly Nemesis? The Goth Dweeb. Who's engaged, apparently? So good for her. Unsurprisingly, it's too the OTHER Dweebs, but still. Bout time she started planning to drag them to a court house. She's the only one with any spine in that group! If she waited for THEM to propose?
Not even as Ghosts, man.
They'd get distracted by shiny nerd shit and whimp out.
Still... a world where NO ONE knows how Awesome, Phantom is? Not on HIS watch!
So he works it in. To every segment. It becomes "his thing". Oh? Super man saved a kitten from a tree? Cute. Well PHANTOM saved a bus full of Ghost Puppies from a shady, rouge, Goverment agency. Do BETTER, Superman!
The Flash, who is a cheap knock-off and stole his name, took down an Ice Villian? Adorable! PHANTOM stopped a Rouge WINTER SPIRIT with the help of YETI WARRIORS then assisted in giving FREE medical care for anyone who needed it! Here's a picture of him making GHOST ICE SNOWMEN for small children! Do BETTER, Knock-off!
What's THAT you say? Wonder Woman fought a GOD in down town paris?
Excellent work Wonder Woman. Flawless as always. But YOU, god-boy, are a disappointment! All that power! And WHAT do you use it for? Are you even supposed to BE here?? PHANTOM uses his power to HELP people! Is awesome and knows TONS of better gods! You're just salty you didn't make the cut!
DO BETTER!
And obviously? No one believes him. There's no record of this "Phantom" guy. The pictures look fantastical and vaguely glitchy/glowy. Not quite right. They GOTTA be photo shopped. Manipulated somehow. But? As a shtick? A fake "perfect Superhero" is kinda funny and unique.
And it's one hell of Fake Hero!
A Dead Champion? Who fights gods and monsters? Rouge agencies? Sassy and tragic? With a mysterious past? Pretty cool! There's even an Offical Comic from some guy that went to the same high-school as Baxter!
Of course, as Baxter get more and more popular? The "meme" hero, Phantom, get more well known? People get more interested in where Dash grew up. You know, just a bored Google. Maybe see if the hero was based off a local legend or something. But... huh...
The Town website?
Weirdly? Sanitized.
Like... like aggressively sanitized. All smooth edges and no details. Very "move along, citizen". Ha ha... it's part of the joke right? They get it! They'll just look up local restaurants or som-....
Wait...
Hey, guuuuys?
Are you finding ANYTHING?
And! Nothing. And I do mean NOTHING! Triggers the "oh? Secrets???" Instincts of a Hacker, like finding a hard blank wall of "KEEP OUT". Especially when it's somewhere it rightfully shouldn't BE.
All it would take? Is ONE person, of decent skills and an account on Certain Forums, getting bored enough to Google the Dude On The TV(TM)? For the GIW's lil walls to come crashing down. Because yeah, you can stop ONE hacker. Even two. Probably five or six.
But how about thousands?
Hundreds of thousands?
From every time zone. Competing. Just to see what you HAVE and don't want them to see. Maybe they do something with it, maybe they don't. But fuck it, you're being RUDE and now they're CURIOUS. And THEN? Oh. Oh holy shit.
Not a meme.
Very real.
Not a joke.
The walls come crumbling down, down, down. Ripped apart by hundreds of hands. Emails sent to every sort of agency. The JLU line inundated with emergency tips. Not a joke. Not A Joke. Holy Shit, IT WASN'T A JOKE!
Phantom is REAL!
And there, on TV, stands the Man. The signal FINALLY breaching containment. Fighting off the invading God of the week. Built like statue, hair like an aurora borealis of white fire held almost delicately in place by a CROWN of ice, a suit made of void and starlight. Inhuman. Beyond human.
Here to help.
A laugh that crackles like ice and the snap of winter, rolls through the air like coming storms, rich and somehow warm. A smile that bares teeth, yet turns so KIND when he looks upon humanity, as though we are precious and worth fighting for. A living star.
A... a once living star.
And in the center of it all? Wearing his BESPOKE, custome made, Number 1 Phan full body outfit? That's right. Dash Baxter. Ha! You fuckers doubted him! Behold his blorbo and WEEP, ya fuckin casuals! The BESTEST of boys! The FINEST of Heros! Superman? Could NEVER.
And now? The weather!
@babbling-babull @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation
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WAITING FOR YOU
pairing; rafe cameron x reader
summary; rafe has been neglecting you recently, putting his work before all, you haven’t had any attention for yourself. you finally reach a breaking point on the night where you prepare everything, make everything perfect, and he doesn’t even bat an eyelid.
content; emotional neglect(?), argument
authors note; re upload!
tonight will be perfect, you’re sure of it. ever since rafe had taken on more responsibilities at work you had been pushed to the sidelines a little, but tonight you can’t wait to be his centre of attention.
you have everything ready, you’ve made a lovely meal and set it out on a candlelit table with his favourite bottle of wine ready to open.
you’re dressed up too. a cute little dress on, and underneath some even cuter lingerie. your makeup is done nicely, all waterproof of course, if all goes to plan, you expect to be in floods of blissful tears by the end of the night.
you hear rafe come through the front door just as you add your final touches to the dinner table. you immediately stand up and scurry down the hallway to meet him.
“good evening rafe,” you beam, ready to see him, though your smile falls a bit when you come into contact with him.
he’s got an armful of paperwork and he looks run down, like has constantly for weeks now. you push past it though, this night is going to be good for him too, he needs the break.
“hey sweetheart,” he mumbles absently, immediately making it clear that his mind is on other matters, “look, can you give me like half an hour? just got somethin’ I need to sort out real quick.” he doesn't even wait for an answer, he's already making to climb the stairs towards his office.
you stop him of course, placing a hand on his arm. “wait, I made dinner, it'll go cold.” you feel crestfallen, sure you knew he'd want to work, but right in the door? he didn't even take a moment to look at how nicely dressed up you are.
rafe stops and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose he speaks in mild frustration, “yeah, yeah I'll eat with you okay? but then I do really have to work.”
you nod, leading him towards the kitchen where the table is set. you pull out a chair, urging him to sit and he does, watching you idly as you walk round and take your own place. “I made your favourite,” you beam. in honesty, making his favourite isn't that much of a feat, he's a very basic eater. but it's the thought that counts.
it's a quiet meal. rafe doesn't pay that much attention, only giving absent and short answers to the questions you ask. his day was fine. work was fine. his plans are to do work stuff. he's feeling fine. the meal is fine. if he could have bothered to ask, you would have told him that you are not fine with any of those answers. it's like he doesn't care that you did this for him.
the moment he’s finished he rises, scratching the back of his neck he speaks, “I gotta go.. do some admin.. food was good.”
“rafe wait…” you stop him from where you still sit at the table. you’ve not even finished your food yet and he’s already leaving. “I thought that we could maybe go upstairs.. spend some time together.” you make it so obvious in your tone as to what you’re suggesting.
he sighs, “maybe later okay? maybe later.” and just like that he’s walking away, just like he has been doing for weeks on end.
*
later, you are laying on your bed, half asleep, waiting for him.
the candle on the bedside table is almost burned out, it’s ugly now. you are undressed, still putting up with the uncomfortable underwear on your body, just so you can look good when he comes in.
it must be nearly eleven o’clock at night when you finally hear his footsteps coming down the hallway. you quickly do your best to wake yourself up and reassume the position you were laying in before.
when rafe comes through the door he stops, looking a little stunned, “why aren't you asleep?” he asks bluntly. that certainly wasn't what you were expecting. not even a little bit of praise, not a thirsty look, nothing.
“are you serious?” you sit up, now you’re frustrated. he’s been pushing you aside for so long, and he can’t even acknowledge what you’re doing for him.
“what do you mean, am I serious? what the fuck is all this?” he gestures to the room, the lowered lights, the candle, you.
“it’s for you.” you frown, “I thought you’d want- I thought you would like this. I thought you’d be happy.”
“baby I didn’t ask you to do any of this.” he says crossly, “I have other things to focus on.. I- I’ve got work! I don’t have time for this.”
this is your breaking point, tears begin to slip down your cheeks, “you never have time for this. that’s the problem.”
his eyes land on you, “problem? you have a problem? I’m a grown man now, I have responsibilities.. I have to make priorities.”
“well they’re wrong! your priorities are wrong!” you snap, sitting up on the bed to lock eyes with him, “I should be a priority. but— but you’ve just been pushing me away all because of work! we haven’t had sex in weeks and.. and you barely talk to me anymore!” you start to rant, “I’ve put so much effort into making tonight perfect and you haven’t even bothered to thank me! I’m tired, and I want to spend time with you. I miss you rafe!”
It’s silent for a few seconds before he lets out a weary sigh, “that’s what all this is about huh? I’m neglecting you.”
you sniffle pitifully, “that’s not what I said.”
he shakes his head and comes to sit down on the bed with you, “what you meant though,” he looks down at his lap for a moment before patting his leg, “c’mere.”
you reluctantly crawl into his lap, resting your messy cheek on his covered chest. he starts to speak again, “I’m sorry. I.. I will admit that I haven’t been paying enough attention to you.. okay.. I’ll change that. promise.”
part of you wants to snap again and say ‘see! how easy was that to admit! why did it take you so fucking long!?”
you don’t snap though, you don’t have the energy. instead you murmur and go closer to him, “m’sorry for gettin’ mad at you rafe.”
he shakes his head, “just missed me, I know.” he rubs your back, before pulling you to face him. “hey.. think it would be a bit of a shame for you to have got this dressed up for nothin’ huh?”
#lily writes 𝜗𝜚#rafe ꨄ︎#rafe cameron prompt#sweetie!reader#rafe cameron concept#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe x reader
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Could you do one of Simon forgetting to bring his lunch and so his wife brings it except she turns up in a cute sundress??
mail-order bride (18+)
"simon...simon riley?" you ask.
the officer raises a brow, looking down at your ID and then back at your face. he frowns a little, scratching the back of his neck.
"he's a lieutenant," you add, biting your lip. "uhm...and he works with...with john."
"john?"
you suck in a shaky breath, biting your lip nervously.
"captain john price?"
the officer just glares at you a little before picking up his radio.
"yes, ma'am. wait here."
he turns his back to you, walking a little ways away, and you hear him speak into the radio lowly.
"...got a civilian here asking for lieutenant riley..."
"...negative, sir..."
"...oh. affirmative, sir. right away."
the officer comes back, giving you your ID back. he looks sheepish now all of the sudden, and he smiles at you, which unnerves you almost.
"u-uh, so sorry ma'am. you can park near the main office, right that way," he points to a building far to the left, "i'll have someone come meet you there to take you inside. again, apologies...we're going to put you on a list, mrs. riley."
you frown a little, shrugging. you're not upset. it's a miltiary base, for christ's sake, and you've never been here; of course they would be apprehensive about letting you in. but the private looks terrified out of his mind, so you just smile a little and make your way towards the parking spot he pointed out.
when you get out of the car, you push the door closed with your hip, picking up the bag in the passenger seat. there's a woman standing by the door, smiling and waving at you. she looks very smart, in a nice pantsuit. you smooth your dress down, smiling back at her, and you swing your purse over your shoulder before making your way to her.
"hello, mrs. riley. the lieutenant's wife, i hear?" she asks. you nod and shake her hand.
"y-yes...he...he said he was just doing administrative stuff today, but he forgot some things so...i just wanted to do something nice--"
"right!" she nods her head towards the door. "i can escort you to his office. uhm...i believe he's debriefing with captain price this afternoon, but i'm sure he can make some time." she winks at you when she says that, and you bite back a shy smile.
she takes a seat at her desk, picking up the phone. she yaps for a few minutes, and you take a seat in an empty chair, smoothing your skirt out. your wearing one of simon's favorites, the cherry-printed mini dress he loves so much, but you realize maybe he might not be the only one. there's a myriad of privates and soldiers that walk past you, and you hear some whistles by some of the bolder ones. you suddenly feel very self conscious, tucking your legs underneath yourself. you're wearing white strapped wedges, your hair styled nicely with a bow to match the dress, but now you feel silly, stupid.
why would you go to a military base dressed like a fucking pin-up girl?
"wot are you doin' 'ere?" a rough voice demands.
mmm. that's why.
you look up from your chair, smiling wide when you see him. simon stands with his arms crossed over his tact vest, tilting his head to the side as he glares at you from under his skull mask. you've never seen him strapped before, though. he's got a gun tucked into his thigh holster.
"h-hi," you pick up the basket next to you, standing up, and when you come close, simon is rough, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you near him with a short growl.
"oi," he snaps, but you just flutter your lashes at his harsh voice, smiling bigger. "can't fuckin' come 'ere lookin' so pretty."
you giggle, and even though you're wearing heels, you still find yourself standing on your toes as you try to get close to him.
"you forgot what i packed for you, simon. how could you forget?" you pout a little. he sighs deeply, smoothing his gloved hand down your back before nodding his head.
"c'mon. can't 'ave ya out here. fuckin' muppets starin' at my wife."
he turns and immediately starts walking. he's entirely too fast, and you skip in your wedges practically to try and keep up with him. when he notices, he slows his pace, and you grip the basket better in your hand before reaching for his with the other.
your hands intertwine, and you look around as you walk, reading the plaques on the wall, the shiny medals, waving at johnny when you see him holding a bag of crisps upside over his open mouth.
when simon shuts the door behind you in a dark office, you set the basket down on the desk, pushing back the kitchen towel fabric.
"okay, so i brought those muffins you like from that little shop. they had blueberry this morning, oh my gosh, simon, they also started putting out these little scones that--oh!" you gasp as he grabs you from the fat of your hips, a big flat palm over the base of your spine as he pushes you flat onto your stomach onto the desk. "simon!"
simon sucks on his teeth as he flips up your skirt, letting out a low whistle as he palms your ass, spreading the fat of it so he peek at the seam of the white lace you're wearing. you lay your palms against the desk and whimper, not used to simon being so rough, so upfront, so bold.
"can't just come here all dressed up, baby," simon grunts, shaking his head. "and not expect me to take wot i need...been surrounded by nothing but wankers all fuckin' day..."
you relax a little, giggling.
"simon," you sigh, your eyes closing as you push your hips back into his hands. "i missed you so much..."
"tha' why y'came down 'ere, luvvie?" he asks, smirking under the mask. "ya missed me? missed y'r husband? what'd ya miss, baby? tell me."
you arch your back a little, bowing it, and you laugh when he gives your ass a firm grab before picking you up and spinning you around, caging you against the desk. you smile up at him, dazed, a little dizzy, and he winks at you, eye-black dark and deadly around those killer brown eyes. he's so big, so hot, and you're suddenly very aware of how big simon looks in all his gear.
"i don't know," you say softly. "it's so cold in bed at night..."
simon snorts, "tha' right? 's cold? the lil' shits don't keep ya warm?"
"our girls like to sleep on your pillow, i think they miss you, too."
"fuckin' lil' bastards," simon chuckles, and you sigh, sliding your hands up his vest and tugging him just a little closer. your spread your knees to let him between them, and he reaches down and grips your thighs, hiking them up around his hips as he sits you onto the edge of the desk. "fuck, you're so fucking pretty..."
you tilt your head back for him.
"i miss eating with you. it's so quiet when you're not around."
"mmm. i bet, luv."
"and i miss you when i'm alone," you whisper. "i miss you when it's just me..."
simon narrow his eyes, "tell me, swee'eart."
you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down towards you. you kiss him over the mask, tasting sand and ash, licking over his lips through the cotton. it's lewd, disgusting, but he groans under the fabric.
"when, simon? when?" you ask, and he hums lowly.
"when? 'ow about right now?"
"no way, you're so gross, simon," you giggle. "our first time is not going to be on a desk in some dingy office where you work--"
you seize when he cups you between the thighs, big gloved hand palming your cunt through your lace panties. you arch your back and gasp, gripping his biceps tight as you lean into his touch.
"don't need t'make it our first time," simon tilts his head to the side. "can still make it real fuckin' nice, baby."
"oh, now you wanna touch me?" you suck in a shaky breath. "just because some of your men wanna look up my skirt?"
"oh, for tha', i'll make ya scream my bloody name, for oll of them ta hear," he growls, and you smile wide up at him.
"guess they need to learn i'm a lieutenant's wife," you giggle, and simon whistles low, tugging your panties to the side, and you whimper when you he prods at your entrance with two big gloved fingers.
"ahhhh..." simon hisses. "ya like tha' title, tha' it, baby? yeah...yeah you like tha'..."
"i like it," you whine, and when he meets your watery eyes, he plunges those big fingers deep, thumbing at your clit. your mouth falls open, your nails digging into his sleeves, and you suddenly wish you had asked him to take you to get your nails done so you could really claw it. "i like it..."
"could make these boys lick the fuckin' ground ya walk on," he mutters, and you whine when a particular rough thrust of his hand squelches between your thighs. "they'd do anythin' to please me, baby...even johnny would chew your bloody food for ya if i asked him to--"
you reach down and grip his wrist, your thighs shaking as you jolt. it feels so good, your entire body is on fire. his fingers are petting a nice little spot inside of you, stroking it as he pumps his hand nice and steady inside of you. his thumb is working you in gooey circles, flicking at your clit and putting taut the little string in your lower belly. your whole brain feels like it's fizzling, your blood rushing, and you stick out your tongue, licking over his masked jaw as you start to feel like you're gonna pass out from the wet slick, slick, slick sounding from your wet cunt.
"simon--simon--" you pant, and he groans, nodding his head.
"so pretty, baby," simon breathes. "so fuckin' tight, gonna 'ave to work ya open before i give ya my cock, lovey..."
"it's so big," you mumble, and simon coos, nodding his head.
"i know, baby, i know, 's big, real big...but you can take it, remember?" he laughs. "you can take it woteva i give you..."
you nod.
"i can take it--i can take it--!"
your vision blurs. there's tears coming down your face, sweat lining your forehead, your back, but you can't wipe the giggly, lazy smile off your face. simon cups the back of your head with his free hand, sitting you up, and when he pulls his fingers out from between your legs, his gloves are stuck to his hand practically, completely soaked through.
"y'r so pretty when y'cum," he murmurs, and you stick out your tongue for him. he gets the message, shoving his mask up just enough, and he bends to kiss you warm and wet.
"well then," you meet his eyes, all languid, all relaxed, a devious little grin on your sweet face. "why don't you give me another then?"
simon grins, all teeth.
"woteva ya want."
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#simon ghost riley smut#ghost smut#simon riley smut#order up
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Hi ✨️✨️
Emily's sister likes Reid and flirts with him a lot before asking him out and he's all shy.
your type | spencer reid x prentiss!reader
warnings: none really, alcohol consumption, flirting
word count: 1.7k
a/n: hi!! hope you enjoy nervous spencer :) love him. reblogs and comments appreciated <3
half team were sitting around the office, finishing off the last of their paperwork for the night, it was a friday night and a certain member of the team was growing bored of filing away the never ending pile of reports. hotch, jj and gideon had already left for the night, leaving the rest of the team to finish off the workload.
emily leaned back in her desk chair, her red long sleeve shirt complimenting her complexion as she tucked her dark locks behind her ears.
“it’s friday night- we should go out and do something fun. lets go to a bar.” emily spoke, interrupting the sound of keyboards clacking and paper shuffling.
“i agree, let’s get out of here.” derek grinned, standing up from his seated position to have a well deserved stretch, his shoulder making a popping sound as he did so.
“reid, you in?”
spencer adjusted his posture at the sound of his name, his head turning towards his colleagues.
“i don’t know guys- i kind of wanted to read ‘the history of torture’ by george riley scott.” he responded, scratching the back of his head.
“the history of torture? on a friday night?” derek shot spencer a confused expression.
“just a bit of light reading.” spencer shrugged.
“nope, i want you guys to meet my sister, she’s a bartender at this new place down the road. it’ll be fun.” emily stood up, grabbing her bag that sat under her desk.
“but-“
“you can read tomorrow, right now it’s time for you to socialise. morgan text garcia, let’s go.”
spencer found himself sitting in the backseat of emily’s car as she drove downtown, derek sat in the front. penelope had replied saying she would meet everyone there.
“i don’t see why the child locks were necessary.” spencer mumbled, pulling on the inside door handle.
“shh. we’re almost here.” emily pulled up next to bar, there was a group of people standing outside cigarettes resting between their index and middle fingers. clouds of smoke plumed into the night sky, through the hazy air a neon sign read ‘the wine seller’.
emily unlocked the car, stepping out and strutting her way to the entrance, derek and spencer following close behind. in the midst of all the smoke stood garcia, her blonde hair tied in space buns with a blue polkadot dress adorning her form.
“are we ready to party!” she exclaimed, clearly she had already had a drink or two.
everyone stumbled into the bar, immediately a wave of noise washed over them. i’m the centre of it all, people were dancing on each other flashing lights casting rays of colour over their sweaty bodies.
“is your sister cute?” derek questioned emily over the loud music.
she rolled her eyes in response. “you could say that.”
“what’s her type?” he grinned, scanning the bar.
“oh you’ll see.” emily chuckled.
spencer rolled his shoulders nervously, trailing behind emily who was making a b line for the bar. she called out to a girl who was facing the shelves full of liquor.
“y/n!”
you whipped your head around to see where the voice had come from, a grin immediately forming when you saw your older sister stood at the bar.
“emily! finally made it out of the office i see.” you chuckled, grabbing a bottle of vodka from the shelf and pouring it into a shot glass for the man that stood at the bar. he nodded as a thank you and made his way back to the dance floor.
“it’s busy in here wow.” emily muttered, eyes scanning the room as she rested her hands on the bar counter.
“mhm i sure know how to bring in a crowd, what can i get for you and… you lot?” you peered around at the three people behind you. penelope rushed to emily’s side giving you a big smile.
“oh right, this is penelope, derek and spencer, from the bau.” you gave everyone a small smile, your eyes lingering on the taller hazel eyed man who stood awkwardly behind emily.
“i’ll take a pink gin and lemonade.” she shouted over the music, you nodded with a smile and reached for the gin.
derek strolled over to the counter, eyeing you as you picked up a gin glass.
“i’ll just have a whiskey.” he shot you a grin which you returned.
“make that two.” emily added, rooting in her bag for her wallet.
you made the drinks and laid them out along the counter for the team to take.
“and for the cutie in the back?” your voice travelled to spencer who seemed caught off guard by your comment.
“uh- me? uh i’ll have i uh- vodka soda.” he stuttered out, heat rising to his face.
“whatever you want sweetheart.” you shot him a wink and began to make his drink.
emily turned her focus to derek who was sipping at his drink.
“i see why you wanted to bring reid here so bad.” he laughed, and then dragged garcia to the dance floor.
“y/n what time do you get off, will you have a drink with us?” emily asked, taking a gulp of her drink immediately feeling the alcohol’s warmth spread through her body.
“twenty minutes em, then i’m all yours.”
“come find me later!” your older sister yelled out, disappearing into a crowd of warm bodies.
you served up spencer’s drink, passing it to him. he tucked his hair behind his ear before reaching for his wallet to pay.
“don’t worry, it’s on me.” you shot him a charming smile which he returned.
“t-thanks y/n.” he reached for the drink, taking a small sip, before taking a seat at the bar. you raised your eyebrow slightly in surprise, not expecting him to take a seat.
you could tell he was very much out of his element, that everyone had just come from the office. he wore a white striped button up shirt paired with a pair of suit trousers, his tie hung loose around his neck. his big eyes wandered around the room before falling back on you, you had already moved on to making cocktails for a bridal party to his left.
spencer studied your form, your quick movements and ability to multitask in such a busy environment impressed him. you wore a tight black tank top along with a black miniskirt the ended just above your mid thigh, and a small black apron was tied around your waist.
he couldn’t help but stare at your figure as you rushed around the bar, your form fitting clothing showing off every curve to your body, in all honestly he was infatuated.
finally the rush had died down and you were making your way back to your side of the bar to polish more glasses, you noticed spencer’s intense gaze on you and smiled to yourself.
“you like what you see, dr.reid?” you questioned, poking fun.
he immediately pulled his fixed look from your body and up to your eyes.
“i- uh sorry.” he nervously sipped at his drink, feeling embarrassed.
“don’t be, you’re pretty cute yourself.” you shot him a small wink and he felt his face flush.
“so spencer, how are you liking working at the bau?” you quizzed, carrying a stack of glasses to the shelf behind you.
“uh- it’s good, i like that i can help people.” he muttered out a vague answer, which he followed with a question.
“a-and do you like being a bartender?”
you shrugged, wandering back to stand in front of spencer.
“it’s just a part time job, i’m studying criminal psychology right now in college, im in my third year.” this got his attention, he straightened his posture, taking another sip of his drink.
“oh really? that’s so interesting- what do you plan on doing after?” he seemed less anxious now.
“i’m not really sure, might do a masters- it was emily’s suggestion.” you let out a small laugh, spencer longed to hear you laugh more.
“i take it this isn’t really your vibe?” you stated, looking around the bar at people making out and dancing, spencer followed your stare. emily and penelope were in the middle of the dance floor cheering derek on who had now taken his shirt off and was swinging it above his head.
“uh- no not really, i didn’t really plan on coming here tonight, but prentiss- your sister, she kind of child locked me in her car.” he mumbled out, an awkward laugh leaving his mouth.
you pinched your eyebrows, shaking your head and letting out a joking sigh. “she’s trying to set me up.”
“set you up?” he repeated what you had said.
your face warmed as you began to speak, “i broke up with my ex over a year ago and was recently complaining about how i can never meet any decent guys at the bar, because- i mean look.” you gestured to a corner where a group of frat bros were downing their beers.
“and em said she knew someone who would be great for me.” you eyes landing back on spencer.
“you mean me?” he pointed to himself, still somewhat confused.
you nodded. “i mean she managed to guess my type exactly, can’t blame her there.” you now gestured to spencer, his face burning a dark crimson, and it wasn’t the alcohol’s fault.
“i mean i hope you’re single- and i’m not just aimlessly flirting with a taken man. that would be a little embarrassing..” you trailed off, rubbing the nape of your neck, your tank top lifted slightly revealing your midriff.
“i- i yeah i’m single.” spencer couldn’t quite grasp the fact you were flirting with him, on purpose. he honestly thought someone like you would either be in a relationship or have a line of much more attractive men just waiting to take you out.
you smiled at his flustered state, you thought he was adorable.
“well then, dr.reid, would you like to go on a date with me sometime? maybe a café or the park, somewhere not as chaotic as this?” you questioned, you were pretty confident in yourself, which was something that ran in your family.
“yeah…i would like that, a lot.” he smiled at you, you quickly jotted down your number on a piece of paper, passing it to spencer.
your eyes flickered to the watch on your wrist, a smile spreading across your face.
“time for me to clock out, darlin. i’ll be right back.” and with that you skipped off into the back of the bar to grab your things, your heart beating twice as quick.
taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea @thedancingnerdmermaid
#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff
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do you think you could write a little scenario about how leona, azul, jamil, idia, and cater would deal with a sudden bout of cuteness aggression. like they feel that there’s just something about reader right then and there that is so unexplainably adorable that they experience the overwhelming urge to physically express it. thank you!!
Azul Ashengrotto:
Azul is the slightest bit irritated by this sudden bought of cuteness aggression, this overwhelming affection completely foreign to him. He doesn’t like that a person has this much control over him, enough to send him spiraling just from a playful smile or silly joke. He considered telling you to leave his office because you were thoroughly distracting him from his work, giving into the conversation you had started that was based on some odd hypothetical. He can’t deny how cute it is when you get excited at him indulging you, knowing he was only digging a deeper hole.
Cater Diamond:
Cater doesn’t have an issue with expressing how cute he thinks you are, even when it overwhelmed him like a slap to the face. He has an entire private album, never posted, of candid pics of you living your daily life (taken when inspiration struck, aka the cuteness aggression bug). You would dare to say most of them are boring, alluding to this being the reason he didn’t post them like he did everything else. It made him pout as you couldn’t be father from the truth! Those were his, for his eyes only to enjoy, and he couldn’t let anyone else see how cute you were when you didn’t even realize.
Idia Shroud:
Idia has to cover his face, almost curling up into a tiny ball as you look on in confusion. He couldn’t look at you a single second longer or he might explode, losing all coolness points he’s earned (if any, but he couldn’t take the chance). The tips of his hair give him away as usual but even as you question what might be wrong, he thinks how cute it is that you’re concerned with him. Perhaps he wasn’t the protagonist but one of many love interests, and you had so thoroughly maxed out his love levels that everything you did raised his affection to this unbearable point.
Jamil Viper:
Jamil does have the tendency to get swept up in emotion, and while he’s generally more reserved with showing affection, the cuteness overload always gets to him. You’re always surprised when he randomly squeezes you in a tight hug from behind, thinking his last name should’ve been considered a warning to any who knew him. You’ll never receive an answer as to why he did this, with Jamil hiding his face in your shoulder to put off meeting your curious gaze until he could think of a way to change topics.
Leona Kingscholar:
Leona moved so quickly it reminded you that he was a carnivore, a predator, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. His hands grip your face and force you to stare into his eyes, your heart jumping in your chest at the intense look on his face. His own expression remained neutral but it seemed he was looking for something, observing the small details of your face, eyes settling longest on your lips before they drifted up again to meet your gaze. When it seemed you were about to ask a question Leona crushed his lips against yours to silence you, not wanting to answer a single question about his sudden need to be close.
#Twisted Wonderland#TWST#Twisted Wonderland Imagines#Twisted Wonderland x Reader#TWST Imagines#TWST x Reader#leona kingscholar#jamil viper#cater diamond#azul ashengrotto#idia shroud#leona kingscholar x reader#jamil viper x reader#idia shroud x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#cater diamond x reader
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CW: 18+ MDNI Mechanic!Ghoap x reader, manipulation - dividers @/cafekitsune
I carnally need mechanic Soap seeing you on the side of the road at the end of your rope over your shitbox car that finally decided to kick rocks.
He’s like an your own personal saint as he leans over the hood of your car, one boot tapping the ground behind the other in concentration, shaking his thick, strong thighs beneath the taut jeans he must’ve just barely managed to fit into as he fixes your car in a way that’ll have it giving out again in about a week’s time.
He gives you a card for Price’s shop, says he’ll fix it free of charge if anything else acts up. Tells you to ask Gaz- the lad manning the office for ‘Soap’.
It’s the slightly modified version of a trick he had learned from Ghost, a man who spent his early adulthood making ends meet- usually using the method as a way of scamming money out of ‘rich blokes who couldn’t even tell you wha’ the hell they were drivin’.’
He however, had a different reason to dig up the old scam- that being to get you into the old man’s auto shop so he could show off for you, parade you around, and ping pong you between himself and his man- maybe even talk him into giving the both of you a ride up to the local lookout in his baby, You’d look so cute stuffed between them in the backseat of Ghost’s truck, after all.
#‘maybe even talk him into giving the both of you a ride’ no deeper meaning btw (<- me when I lie )#ghoap x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap#ghost#x reader#cloth writes
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Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal AU.
Chapter 4:
Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 5.
This chapter is brought to you by myyyyyyy🎉birthday🎉 woohoo 🥳 I hath aged
It's a little bit shorter, but I mean come on it's a unique chapter soooo it's cool guys I swear
Lots more Batfam content this time, albeit Tim centric. I'll balance it out in the future I swear! Also it's still platonic, but you could probably get a romantic reading from this a lil bit if you try
Taglist: @moonchild-artemisdaughter @jjsmeowthie @madine11-blog @xxrougefangxx @hadesnewpersephone @neerathebrightstar @mel-star636 @jaythes1mp @rosecentury @lov3vivian @gaozorous-rex-blog @victoria1676 @vrsin @silverklaus @ryukyuin @kurai-hono-blog @thisisafish123 @isawyourbrowserhistory @ain-t-no-way-bsfr @realifezompire @lunaluz432 @nickey-diano @sukiiluvs @sara0055 @alleakimlala @kdidgg @paperhermits @lavender-moony @alishii @emmbny @sirenetheblogger @fantasy-angelo @andrasia @vinnvinnvintage @nyra-42 @armystaysatnct @beyond-your-stars @starsdotalk @adeptusxia0
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A few days have passed since your encounter with Red Robin. He hasn't shown up since, but another thing has.
Your work had sent you an email. An invitation to Wayne Enterprises, to represent them. According to them, your location was the closest to Wayne Enterprises, and so you were selected. You lived 50 minutes away from Wayne Enterprises. Their home office was 30 minutes away. You weren't sure who was doing the math here, but they needed some more practice.
That being said, you could notice a pattern when there was one. This was Tim Drake's attempt to get you out of your home. And unfortunately, it was going to work. You needed your job. It was perfect, remote, didn't bother you as long as you got the work done. Jobs like that were rare, especially in Gotham.
Not for the first time, you kinda felt like crying.
If Red Robin, your soulmate, was indeed Tim Drake, then what was this? Did he have you figured out? Or was he continuing the investigation?
You didn't know...
Refusing to show up would get you fired. There was no way around that. But, what if you couldn't go?
What if you were too injured to go? There's no way you could fake something, the bats are quite literally master detectives. That and your soul animal form would likely reveal the uninjured truth.
Maybe if you injured yourself?
No, no no no. That was a bad route to go down. If this meeting is to check whether you are soulmates with him, a matching injury on your soul animal form would be like a criminal and a suspect having the same tattoo.
There wasn't really any option here. Which, really, is just typical for the vigilantes of Gotham.
"Ughhh." You groaned to yourself, cradling your hands with your head. You glared over at Red, who had been showing up much more frequently these past few days (which was saying something, since all your soul animals were already by you 23/7). Red gave a small chirp in reply, some sort of smugness in its tone.
Maybe it was time to invest in wind chimes or something. You heard they can scare off robins.
You felt like you were going to need it.
~ ~ ~ ~
Tim's developed something of a guilty habit.
It wasn't a bad thing, per se. Nothing B would particularly frown at. Dick might even agree.
He imagined you wouldn't quite feel the same, though.
You looked especially fragile, as you slept. During the day your face was haunted by false bravado, a paranoid edge to every smile. Sleep smoothed out the lines of your face, giving a softer touch to your slumbering form.
You frown when he reaches out to poke your cheek. It's cute. His hand twitches for his camera. You're always cute, whether it's a small little frown on your face or beaming joy.
He's developed a new favorite activity. Alongside solving cases, he's now watching you. He wants to observe it all. From little habits to obvious passions, he wants to know everything. Hobbies, skills, loves, DNA. He'd only just found you, the answer to the mystery that he's been in since birth. He's had a lot of time to build up this obsession.
He wants and wants and needs. He can wait to take.
You are a light sleeper, but he's a quiet stalker. You don't always drink milk before bed, but when you do, you'll get a little more tired than usual. Your groggy face is cute, too.
He reached out, stroking your hair with the slightest of a smile beginning on his face. It was soft. It reminded him of you, your soul animal form. It had flinched away from him earlier, as it always does whenever they were in uniform. Finding that you do the same as a human wasn't so surprising.
They had adapted to your soul form’s skittishness. They could do the same again. His mind briefly flashed through some ideas, an ankle bracelet, a watch, a collar? If it was on the ankle, you'd match.
He broke out of his musings at the shift of movement. A flutter of wings. B’s soul animal flew down perching on a piece of furniture nearby as a vantage point. He smirked. Looked like he wasn't the only one feeling a little possessive tonight.
He must've been thinking of you. Not surprising, given that your soul form was scheduled time with him today. They had to work out a schedule, else there would have been a lot more stabbings. Not that it didn't prevent sudden abductions occasionally, thanks Jason.
That was fine though. B could have you tonight, Damian could have you tomorrow, Dick the next. Because Tim had the real you, right here.
And he wasn't planning on letting go.
There's a room he's preparing inside Drake manor. He’d put your name on it, but that would be too obvious if anyone came around. Instead, it would be his little secret with you. He's only just met you, but he has plenty of ideas for it already.
He didn't feel guilty for this. Not at all.
You were his as much as he was yours after all. If there was a problem with these feelings, then why would fate itself tie you to him?
If anything, the only guilt he’d feel is not telling anyone else. He couldn't help it, he just wanted you to himself for a while. He caught you, so he was allowed to have you.
But was that really guilt? Or just annoyance at the idea of getting caught?
An alert on his communicator made him frown, taking him out of the trance he had felt into. There was more he had to do.
A shame, but it was fine. He got to spend some quality time with you, taken a few things for the future. He’d make more time. And you'll have all the time in the world for him. But first…
Tim withdrew a specialty camera from his utility belt, raising it to his face. He adjusted a few settings, then…
Snap!
~ ~ ~ ~
You fought the urge to yawn. You have been so sleepy lately. You had to wake up especially early for today. Lovely.
At least today was the moment of truth. You'd show Red Robin for once and for all that you were perfectly normal, and not at all his soulmate. He’d lose interest, and your life would return to its domesticity.
The one good thing going for today was that you're somehow accompanied by none of your soul animals. A truly rare occasion that is ruined by the fact that you're instead visiting a soulmate in the flesh. If any of your soul animals do show up, you have your old reliable bag to shove them into. So, you should be alright.
Wayne Enterprises was a terrifying image, but you steadied yourself with the fact that your whole life’s freedom was at stake here, which was much more terrifying. After that you could get through the door. Security just letting you through after giving your name almost had you running out the door though, you'd admit.
The elevator ride was long and solemn, giving you time to think about everything. Maybe you should think about moving, staying in Gotham was perhaps a ridiculous sentiment to begin with. It was a shame though, you were a Gothamite through and through, you didn't want to leave the country your parents lived and raised you in.
Still, perhaps it was time to leave. Things were getting too risky. Thinking about it, Wayne Enterprises? Honesty what even was your life.
The ding of the elevator door interrupts your musings, an assistant directing you to Tim Drake’s office.
As you walk over, you can't help but listen in to some shouting coming from the room.
A younger voice is yelling. “Give me them! You do not deser-” The voice gets cut off, as an older voice yells back. “It is my turn, you do not get to just steal them!”
The younger voice starts up again, but so does the older voice, alongside what you can only presume to be fighting noises.
You just kinda stare at the door. You are a working professional, representing your company to the prestigious Wayne Enterprises. You came here with lofty expectations and responsibilities to fulfill. And the CEO… is fighting someone in his office.
You have no idea what to do.
A minute passes.
You started to think about signaling an assistant to come help, but before you could do so the fighting seemed to end with a shouted “Fine! But B will hear about-” you can't hear the rest, as the shouting returns to a normal volume.
A door is opened and slammed, footsteps retreating away from the office. You take a moment to appreciate the fact that Tim Drake’s office has two doors that lead in different places, because it means you didn't have to meet whoever he was fighting.
A second or two later, the door in front of you swings open. Tim Drake is facing you, his hair a little askew, and his cheeks a little red. He smiles, an easy thing. It's as if the sight of you brought it to his face.
“Welcome!” He waves you in, somehow not acknowledging what you just heard in any form. The objects in his office are perfectly aligned. Nothing looks disturbed at all. How?
He waves you over to a chair, settling into one himself.
“Well.” He begins. “It's nice to see you again, Y/n."
You hope this goes by quickly.
#yandere#yandere dc#yandere batman#yandere batfam#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#darkstaria#my writings#my writing#yandere batfamily#soul animal au#yandere bruce wayne#yandere dick grayson#yandere nightwing#yandere jason todd#yandere red hood#yandere tim drake#yandere red robin#yandere damian wayne#yandere robin#yandere x gn reader#x reader#reader insert
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could i request a small fic/imagine where tommy is soft with only his girlfriend/fiancé/wife and his kids?🫶🏼
Scary? My God you're divine!
A/N: hey babes, this is actually longer than I was expecting lmao. It still is under 1000 though. I am a huge sucker for soft!Tommy so thank you so much for this request 😍. I named the baby Charlotte before I realised how much her full name sucks and then couldn't be arsed to change it, so apologies to Charlotte Shelby. This is probably also ooc but I don't give a shit, but I hope you like it anon!!! 💕💕
You knew what Tommy did, what came with his job. All the illegal affairs and cutting people up. You'd be a fool not to. But you couldn't help but feel as if the real Tommy Shelby was the one who came out when he was with you.
Ever since the start of your relationship, Tommy had always acted differently around you, much softer, always there to place a soothing hand on your back or hunch over to talk to you with his lips brushing your ear, his words meant for no ears but your own. His hardened gaze softened and the corners of his mouth would quirk up in a a miniscule smile, only momentarily but you would count that as a win no less.
Arthur had employed you to help run things at the garrison, you weren't exactly excellent at maths but you were certainly better than Arthur so you would help with the books as well as working as a barmaid. The two of you met for the first time when Tommy burst into the office of the garrison with a cut on his sharp cheekbone, he thought he would be opening the door to his brother, you thought he was the most handsome man you had ever seen. You insisted on helping and sanitising the "wound" and although he initially refused he soon gave in to your worried frown and relentless offer of help. The two of you had been practically inseparable since, rarely seeing one without the other and if one was missing they were never very far behind.
Tommy took to you almost immediately after meeting you, and Polly clocked him the very next day. The woman always was good at reading Tommy and that day was no different.
Over the next couple of months, whenever he was around Tommy barely let you lift a finger, always eager to help lift things and assist in anyway possible, never letting you out yourself in any risk whatsoever, no matter how small. At first you were offended, thinking that he was doing it because he thought you incapable, what with you being a woman, or if he didn't trust you enough to do things on your own. But when you brought it up one day, thoroughly fed up, he was quick to quell your suspicions and doubts by instead admitting his growing feelings towards you. Absolutely zero persuasion was needed for you to agree to a date with the handsome Tommy Shelby, and now three years later you're married with an adorable little four month old baby girl named Charlotte.
Tommy often refers to your small family as his greatest weakness, saying that if it ever gets out how soft he is that his reputation would never recover. But you just laugh to yourself and cuddle in closer, hand coming up to stroke Charlotte's head. No one would believe it if it got out, he has nothing to worry about.
The first time Tommy had held her you would've thought she was made out of cheap glass, fragile and likely to break at even the smallest of mishandlings. You knew from the moment that little Charlotte Shelby first opened her eyes, sharp and blue like her fathers, that she had Birmingham's most feared gangster wrapped around her teeny tiny pinky. Once the doctor had shown him how to hold the baby properly, supporting her head and all that, it was hard to separate the two.
Every night when he came home to you he would lie in the centre of the bed with you curled up into his side, head resting on his firm shoulder, and he would place the small babe to lie on his bare chest, small legs tucking up in a scrunch like a frog and cute babbles making the corners of his eyes crease.
#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby x reader#tommy shelby#thomas shelby#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinders#peaky blinder imagine#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby fanfic#peaky blinders fic
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