#i sure have forgotten a lot from this game | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

magics-neptunes-things · 1 month ago

Text

Love Me Harder

Hi guys :)

Still working on my WIP! This is a request I got here, so I hope the person asking for it will be happy with what I wrote :)

I'm sorry for the delay by the way.

But please enjoy ♥

TW : Head injury, concussion, jealousy, angst with happy ending.

Leah and you have been a couple for almost two years now, even if you managed to get it hidden for now. You always had something for the girl to be honest, but when you met Leah, she was already with Jordan and you weren’t really a couple breaker. Sure, it hurts sometimes to see her happy with someone else, but at least she was happy and that’s all that matters for you.

You tried to forget her by sleeping around or having a girlfriend yourself, but nothing really worked. You usually dated people away from the football world, not wanting to mix your professional life with your private life. It happened that you slept with other players though, but never in your team or with them being friends with one of your friends.

With that state of mind, it was hard to find someone to sleep with, but at least you were out of trouble.

Well, that’s what you thought until today.

Leah and you aren’t playing for the same team, she was born at Arsenal while you travel a lot during your career. You started in Manchester City, then you went to Lyon, then to Bayern and since last season you have been back in Manchester City. You like it here and it was easier to live your relationship with Leah that way.

You are together when you are playing for your national team though, you have been the number one goalkeeper of the team for years now. Leah is back from her injury and is now back in national camp too.

Sarina knows that you are together, like all your teammates. The only people who don’t know are the public. You are friends with a lot of Lionesses, so when you are spotted with Leah and some of your friends, no one really puts two and two together. Meado tease you a lot about it, but in reality, you aren’t fan of PDA anyway and so is Leah. Maybe not like you are with your friends, but it’s another discussion.

Back to today, you are playing against Italy for the qualification of the next international championship. After your World Cup and the fact that you weren’t qualified for the Olympics Games, all your team wants to show that you are still here and deserve to win the Euro back in 2022.

You were doing the pitch inspection, casually talking with Lucy and LJ when you heard someone calling your name. Leah, as always, wasn’t far away from you with Keira and Georgia.

“Y/N?”

You turn without really thinking in the direction of the voice, just to be faced with a girl that you actually slept with several months ago. To be honest, it was just before you got in a relationship with Leah. You hate to admit it, but you kind of ghost that poor girl after that, way too happy to finally be with the girl you were in love with.

“Oh, hi Milena” you say nervously.

You even have forgotten that she’s in fact from Italy and you will be facing her today. You can see Lucy exchanging an intrigued look with LJ next to you while the girl keeps walking in your direction.

“I’m happy to see you” she says when she’s in front of you.

You don’t have time to answer before she hugs you and your arms automatically surround her waist to give her back her embrace. If your arms very quickly drop from her body, one of her hands stays in your arm.

You probably never have been so uncomfortable during the rest of your life. You can feel Leah burning gaze on your back.

“How are you? I think we haven't talked for like two years” she laughs.

“Oh, uh. I’m good thanks” you mumble.

“You look good indeed” she smirks.

You deal very badly with cringe, to be honest. So, you are particularly relieved when Lucy passes her arm around your shoulders before talking.

“We have to go back inside” Lucy says, nodding towards the locker room.

In fact, when you look around, you realise that almost all your teammates are already inside. That excuse is perfect after all. You mumble a “See you later” before letting Lucy take you out of the pitch.

Lucy and LJ manage to wait to be out of your ex’s ear before bursting into laughter. You suppose you must be grateful to them for that.

“What was that?” Lauren asks while Lucy is still laughing like crazy.

“Nothing” you roll your eyes.

“She doesn’t look like nothing” Lucy smirks when she can breathe again.

“Be careful with what you say, or Ona will receive a strange text from me, explaining how you find other girls not nothing” you frown.

She suddenly shuts up, her face becoming way more serious. It makes you smile. You never saw Lucy so whipped for a girl before. But you know that your friends deserve an explanation. You sigh softly before starting your explanation.

“It’s a girl I slept with before Leah kissed me at that party, and we got together. I was still in the process of forgetting her. I met that girl before the Euro and well… You know” you shrug. “But then after the semi-finales we got together with Leah, after that she hurt her ACL and I kind of totally forgot that girl.”

LJ hums after your explanation, nodding softly. You can see that your explanation makes sense for both of them which is great because it’s nothing but the truth.

“Leah was boiling” Lucy informs you.

You grimace at this. You were pretty sure that she would react that way. You never realise how Leah can be jealous before being with her. You like it actually, fond of the way she wants to be sure that you are hers and no one can take you away from her.

But here and now aren’t exactly the right place to show her that she is your only one.

You are nervous when you enter the changing room, looking for your girlfriend. You finally see her sitting in Georgia’s cubby. Her eyes are burning when she crosses your gaze after you enter the locker room.

Lucy goes sit on her cubby, just next to yours, while LJ goes on hers too. You want to talk to Leah, but Georgia’s non-verbal language makes you think that you better not approach Leah for now.

That girl is really scary when she wants to.

Keira’s gaze is softer and it’s what makes you walk in their direction. Lucy was right, Leah seems furious.

“Can we talk?” you ask softly when you reach them.

“No” Georgia answers harshly.

“Georgia” Keira sighs.

“Leah?” you try again, trying to cross your girlfriend’s gaze. “Please?”

She sighs and throws the towel she was holding in the cubby while standing up. She doesn’t answer really, but you follow her anyway when she walks to leave the room. You don’t really know where you are going at first, until she turns to enter in a closet.

“What do you want to talk about?” Leah asks harshly just after you close the door.

You are a little bit taken aback. You know what you want to talk about of course, but you don’t know how to start. You are sure that if you say that you know she’s jealous, she will deny it and that it will be the end of the conversation. This is not what you want.

“I just wanted to know if you are okay” you tentatively say.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

She has now her arms crossed and her famous frown on her face. You know how hard it would be to have something from this conversation.

“Because you seem angry”

Leah snorts and looks at the handle of the door. She putted her hands on her hips now and is shaking her head.

“Am I supposed to be happy when my girlfriend is getting flirted with by someone else?”

“No, that is why I wanted to talk to you too. I just…”

“Do you know her?” Leah cuts you.

This time her eyes are deep inside yours and you know that you can’t lie to her. It wasn’t something you wanted to do anyway, but with her eyes scanning your soul, it would have been impossible.

“I… We slept together some time ago” you finally sigh.

“When?”

“Just before the Euros”

You know that Leah knows perfectly that your first kiss happened after the semi-finals against Sweden and the happiness of the victory. You were the first shocked when she kissed you after some naughty dancing, but you kissed her back and the rest of the night probably made her understand very much how much you were fancying her already.

It’s even stronger now, of course.

But Leah is looking at you like she’s going to kill you.

“Don’t look at me like that, Le. I didn't know that several weeks later you would kiss me. I didn’t know you were interested in me at this point.”

You try to take her hand with yours, but she takes it away from you, before opening the door again.

“Well you can go back fucking her in that case”

“Leah!”

She slams the door, almost pinning your fingers inside. When you manage to get outside too, Leah isn’t here anymore. You decide to go back to the training room and try to talk to her again, but when you arrive, Sarina is right behind you, asking you to go training.

You aren’t really concentrating during the training to be honest; you keep looking at Leah, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t even share a look with you when you are right behind her at the beginning of the game.

You really hope that a win will ease her mood and help you to reconcile with Leah. You turn when you feel a tap on your shoulder, turning your bigger frame towards Keira. She just smiles at you, and you nod only. You are too nervous to smile, but you are glad to know that you have at least one of Leah’s friends on your side. You are sure that Leah explained everything to them.

You take a deep breath when it’s time to go on the pitch, trying to focus on the game. The national anthems help you and you keep a straight face when you check all the Italian players, even Milena.

You do your usual check with Lucy too, looking for good luck before starting the game. England is supposed to be the favourites, but Italy is fighting with all their strength. Your forwards manage to have good opportunities, but without being able to score for now.

After the first half, no one scored, and you had to use some of your best moves to avoid taking a goal or two.

You just nod when Sarina congratulates you in the locker room. Leah is still not looking at you, as if you weren’t even here. It creates a strange feeling in your throat. You are happy that Lucy is just next to you, even if she’s not talking, your friend’s presence is good for you.

When the game starts again, you realise with anxiety that Milena and her other teammates change their side, meaning that Leah is the one marking Milena from now.

But Leah manages to take the upper hand on Milena every single time, using with ability her slide tackles. You are happy when Alessia finally manages to score around the seventy minutes.

Five minutes later, Sarina made all the different changes she was planning to, leaving Lucy and Leah in the defence but changing Millie and Maya in the same move. You don’t have a lot of time to get used to that though, because soon Italy won a corner, and you have to focus again on the game.

You can’t really explain what happened. Your eyes were on the ball when the Italian player shot it in the middle of the surface. But the knock you received on your head suddenly makes everything dizzy and you fall on the ground without really realising it.

There is a wheezing and everything else sounds like you were underwater. You feel hands on you, someone slapping your cheek, two fingers looking for your pulse in your neck.

You don’t know if it’s because it’s Leah or if it’s because she’s screaming right above your head, but you hear her distinctly shout

“Don’t fucking touch her! Let her breathe!”

And the panic in her voice finally makes you open your eyes. It’s the same feeling when you are sleepy, and Leah wakes you after you fall asleep in front of a movie to go to bed. Your eyes are heavy, the light is too bright too. You wince and close your eyes almost as soon as you open them, pressing your hand on your head.

“Y/N? Hey Baby, can you hear me?”

Leah’s voice is softer than you ever heard it, and you groan for only an answer. Your head is pounding.

“Can you roll on your back?”

You recognize the voice of one of the people from the medical team. You groan once more and roll on the ground, lying now on your back. You warily open your eyes, thankful that someone is hiding the lights of the pitch with their frame. You frown softly when you realise that it’s Milena

“I’m sorry Y/N, I wasn’t looking where I was going and…”

“It’s okay” Leah cuts her harshly. “She needs to get looked at; can you leave?”

You perfectly see the staff member smile at each other before turning their attention to you again.

They ask you several questions, make you sit, look at their fingers and look at a light too. It’s not an enjoyable experience to be honest, it hurts, and you have trouble staying focused.

“I think it’s a concussion” one of them finally says. “It would be better for you to get out of the pitch.”

“No” you frown. “Sarina made all the substitutions already. I can’t leave.”

“Of course you can” Leah interjects. “No one would blame you. It’s safer like th– “

“Leah. I’m playing.”

Her light blue eyes went right into your eyes. You don’t look away, Leah might be stubborn, but you are too when you really want something. And you want to play, you want to prove to her that she can count on you no matter what. You know you have hurt her and maybe bummed after your revelation earlier. You want to take amend of that.

When she opens her mouth to answer, you look at the medical staff.

“Am I allowed to play?”

They hesitate for several seconds, looking at you silently.

“If I let you play, you have to swear that if you don’t feel good, or dizzy, or tired, you will stop the game and get out of the pitch. Can we make this deal?”

You nod and he nods back, before helping you to get up. You take some water from the bottle he gave you, splashing some of it on your face too. You feel tired to be honest and the lights are killing you. But you are determined to end this game.

“Y/N.”

You turn in Leah’s direction and it’s easy to see the concern in her eyes. You smile softly at her while your teammates and the opposite team are coming back on the pitch.

“I’ll be fine, Leah”

She sighs and you feel her gaze on you when you go back to the goal. You don’t see her or hear her turning to the players around her, telling them not to let anyone come near your goal.

They manage to do it greatly to be honest, and you are glad for it. You have to make some intervention, like grabbing the ball in the air for example. Jumping was fine, but the shock when you fall on the ground is harsh.

When the whistle of the referee finally sounds, signalling the end of the game, you are more relieved than ever. Closing your eyes, you let your tired body sliding along one of the two posts on your goal.

“You’re alright mate?”

You don’t open your eyes but nod at Lucy’s question, feeling her hand on your shoulder without seeing it.

“Do you need help to get up?”

“Please” you mumble.

She makes you stand as easily as you were a 5-year-old child, making you smile softly. You thank Maya with gratefulness when she gives you your things waiting behind the goal and slowly make your way to the locker room.

You look around to see where Leah is, which isn’t missed by Beth who is walking on your other side.

“She’s answering some questions for the TV” the blonde informs you.

You groan and drink more water, still walking. Pretty slowly, you must admit. But you feel dizzy, and you sigh internally when you see Milena running in your direction.

“Hey” she says, with her Italian accent. “Look, I'm very sorry. How are you feeling?”

“I’ll be okay, don’t worry” you answer with a soft smile. “I’ll need some rest tonight and maybe tomorrow, but other than that it’s okay.”

You watch her bite her lips, like if she’s thinking about something to say. And how to say it. You really hope that she won’t ask you out now, because you don’t have the energy to deal with it right now.

“Can I write to you tomorrow? To know how you are feeling. I really feel very guilty”

You were going to answer something, but you were interrupted by an arm sneaking around your waist and a body suddenly pressed against yours.

“She will post an update on her Instagram tomorrow. And don’t worry for her, she’s between great hands” Leah says, before looking at you. “Are you okay to leave, Babe?”

You repress a smile and take a small breath.

“Yeah, let’s go. See you”

You give a smile to Milena, who you feel sorry for. You know that she never meant to hurt you, but Leah seems to take her for the only responsible of the accident.

“You know that I wasn’t looking either?” you mumble to Leah.

“It doesn’t matter. Sarina told me we can leave now; the staff asked for a taxi so we don’t have to wait on anyone. Would you like to shower in your hotel room rather than here?”

“Sounds good” you mumble again.

In a record time, Leah manages to take all your things and put them in your two bags, change herself in a training suit and help you to do the same. You are starting to feel tired and dozens in the cab on Leah’s shoulder.

“Baby you have to wake up. I can’t carry you in your room” Leah whispers when you are in front of the hotel, gently kissing your temple.

Usually, you love the fact that you are higher than Leah. You love how she easily fits in your arms, how you can hold her and feel like you are protecting her from everything and everyone.

But right now, you really would love for her to be able to carry you.

She does a bit though, holding you firmly against her while you are going to the lift and then to your room. You let yourself fall on the bed when you arrive inside your room, letting Leah deal with your bags and everything else.

“Come on Baby, we have to wash the game out of you. Then you can go in bed until the staff members come again”

“I just want to sleep” you groan.

“I know. But you will feel better.”

You do feel better, Leah is right. She helps you to take your shower, affectionately dry you with a towel after, help you to put fresh pajamas on and then even brush your teeth and your hair.

She then takes a quick shower too and it’s with wet hair and in one of your t-shirts that she opens the door of your room for the staff. The t-shirt easily covers her smaller frame, the tissue going until her knees.

They make some more tests on you, asking several questions to Leah too. You have trouble staying focused, but only because you are very tired. You don’t hear them leaving, opening your eyes again when you feel the bed move when Leah crawls on it.

“Are you sure you’re not in pain?”

You hum, snuggling against her warm body. They gave you some morphine earlier anyway. Leah lets you do it and you sigh happily when she starts to stroke your neck with her fingers.

“I’m sorry for the way I reacted because of your ex”

Leah’s whisper takes you by surprise. You probably almost never heard Leah saying that she was sorry for something so serious. Opening your eyes again, you search hers.

“I’m sorry for the way you learned it” you whisper back. “But it has nothing to do with you. It was before knowing you could be in any way interested in me. I was still in my “Forgetting Leah” era”

Leah chuckles and you smile hearing that sound. You close your eyes again, the tiredness being more and more hard to fight against.

“I’m glad you never managed to get over me” Leah says after some silence, playing with your hair.

“I will never be able to get over you”

You feel like your voice is low and your words aren’t very well articulated, but Leah seems to understand very easily what you are saying.

“I was hoping to” Leah mumbles too. “Now sleep, you little menace.”

You groan softly once again, making Leah smile. You happily let her kiss your face several times, finishing with your lips. You manage to whisper that you love her and it seems to you that Leah say it back, but you are not really sure. Because you are already asleep then.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso one shot #leah williamson x you #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson

515 notes · View notes

melliemell · 1 month ago

Note

OKAY HEAR ME OUT.. POCKY GAME WITH THE BSD CAST (preferably Ranpo and Dazai, feel free to add whoever u want!!) MAKE IT ROMANTIC TOO PLZ I CANT GET THIS IDEA OUT OF MY HEAD🙏🙏🙏

LOTS OF LOVE - an anon who lost their glasses

👀👀this... this was too fun to write ohmygod you have no idea

Now you've managed to get me stuck on thoughts of silly little moments with those losers too aaAAAAAA I gotchu nonnie, you ask and I deliver😌

BSD Cast ft. Pocky Game

(Dazai, Ranpo, Fyodor, Chuuya; high-key suggestive, blame them not me)

Dazai

“It’s a very delicate procedure.”

“Mmm, big boy business, I see.”

“Shush. Good students listen to their sensei first and give smartass remarks later. Now…”

It would be Dazai’s idea, not surprising in the slightest. The thing is, he’d be very convincing about this, all sweet smiles and an offhand remark how cute it’d be ‘cause couples are supposed to do sappy things, duh. An innocent enough suggestion, one you found amusing but nothing to bat an eye about.

Until you add Dazai’s complete disregard for social norms and he’d be pulling those things out in the most embarrassing, inconvenient places he could think of. Mostly to annoy you, secondly to see how red in the face you’d get if he put you in a compromising situation. And oh boy do those happen often.

One moment you’d be in the middle of discussing important work matters with Atsushi, the next Dazai’s sliding up in your personal space, pocky already hanging at his lips. Worst is he’d act as though this is your average activity, batting his lashes all sweetly at you as he waited. If you snap the pocky with your hand instead he’d react as though it was his heart you just crushed, you cruel beauty of his.

It’s all fine though, things considered. So long as he does get his kiss in the end. Behind some privacy this time.

Ranpo

No. Do not engage with this man in a pocky game, he will be an absolute menace about it.

Unlikely to suggest it himself as it means he’d have to share his snacks with you. Could be convinced if informed of the chance of getting free smooches though. But he’d whine about it, probably already munching on the pack you bought as you were explaining the rules to him.

In the case of you managing to save some for the actual thing…

“Yeah, yeah, can you get on with it? I wanna play already.”

Ranpo does not, in fact, play. The moment you get in place, both of you biting onto your respective side, Ranpo all but throws away any and all rule-information you gave. Who needs those? Only losers, that’s who.

He’s already bitten off almost the entirety of the pocky, lips finding yours a second later as he pulls you in, hands smashing up your cheeks on both sides. You can practinally hear him munching on the chocolate which makes this all the more hilarious. Talk about mixed priorities.

Second try goes just as the first one; any illusions of a game forgotten as you were pretty sure Ranpo’s impatience wasn’t quite something you were equipt for…

The third and final chance (last pocky, unfortunately he ate the rest) wasn’t really a chance, honestly. Not when you could just push him back on the couch and kiss him stupid as you climbed atop.

He might get the remaining pocky later. Maybe.

Fyodor

“How charming.”

Would be amused by the whole thing. Unexpectedly easy to convince, and it gets even weirder as he calmly complies with the rules, nodding patiently. Before you know it you’re staring down at each other, one pocky distance between you two.

Not the type to rush into things, letting you get closer to him instead. Expect a lot of raised eyebrows and chaste kisses as you go through the whole pack. Did you think this was a one go thing? Silly you. A happy, satisfied partner is a compliant one, after all. Little things like this cost him nothing, but could bring a smile on your face. Why would he waste an opportunity like that?

Unlikely to push things further… but just as unlikely to stop you from leaving a few more kisses on him. One or two at the edge of his lips. One accidentally finding its way on his jaw. A trail of feathery brushes down his throat and soon he’d be getting the memo pretty well.

You can’t help it. There’s something about Fyodor’s damned calmness that always leads to this. Maybe it’s the presence of character; something solid and secure before you that always manages to crawl under your skin. You’d be pulling at his shirt and trousers before you know it, pocky game entirely forgotten.

Chuuya

This one’s a trickie.

Chuuya’d be split between wanting to give in to your sillies, but also… why? Why this? Why not go to that nice and fancy restaurant he talked to you about? The one with the molten chocolate cakes; he’d treat you to all the sweets in the world if you’d ask him.

Embarrassed at first, and trying his best to sneakily pull himself out of the situation. Until you finally manage to corner him, pocky box in hand and a roguish glint in your eyes.

Maybe it was his dignity, or maybe he was playing too much into the tough guy persona. But the moment you sat him down, a winner’s determination written all over your face– oh, no. Hell no, this was on.

Forget about any cute couple moments. Oh nono, it was all narrowed eyes and prolonged stares of intense analysis, each trying to predict the others’ move. One wrong decision, just the slightest distraction and–

Before Chuuya had you round the waist, rolling you suddenly on the bed as a panicked yelp flew from your lips. The absolute ass. And he’d be laughing about it too, looking down at your sprawled form with the goofiest smile, trying to bite into his lower lip to stifle yet another fit.

“You all good, sweets? Guess ya lost this round.”

And you’d pull him down, your breath ghosting over his widening grin.

“We’ll see about that.”

460 notes · View notes

pomefioredove · 3 months ago

Note

So people use Kalim, right? Like pretend to be his friend because he has money-

What if Kalim's crush is just like "Yeah I grew up poor....anyways! I bought you this gold bracelet! Probably not real gold, but I thought it'd fit your style." And is just always pulling up with gifts and little trinkets and just refuses to let Kalim spend any money 😭 I also imagine if Kalim gave them a gift, they'd just start bawling because they don't know how to accept gifts-

:3c I love a little kalim posting

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ the mystery of the magi

type of post: short fic characters: kalim additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, realizing now that I went a liytle off-prompt, sorry u-u

You gave Kalim one rule.

One rule. You had no expectations, no requirements, no shopping list.

Just one rule... that happened to be impossible for him to follow.

"No money?" Jamil asks, watching Kalim pace the room. "You can't spend any money? So no clothes, no jewelry, no games?"

It's far past curfew, but even Jamil had long forgotten about that. That's how strange this whole thing is.

Kalim has never looked so worried. "Not a thaumark. They said so!"

"Did they...?"

Of course. Jamil has thought you were weird from the day Kalim started coming home with plastic toys and friendship bracelets, "gifts" of yours. But this is just absurd.

The heir to one of the richest families in the world has days to find you the perfect birthday gift, and he can't spend any money.

Kalim's eyes are wide with thought, which is a strange look on him. "They say that my presence is enough..."

"But it's not," Jamil finishes the thought for him. Kalim had always given gifts as love- handing out gold and jewels like they were candy- which made him a treat for... well, most of NRC. But not you.

"Well... there's plenty you can do without spending," Jamil says. "You could... cook something, or plan a nice date..."

Kalim pouts. "It's not enough! Everything they get me is so... perfect... I want to do the same!"

Perfect, meaning the cheap toys from claw machines, drawings, handmade jewelry, half-edible cookies... Kalim keeps everything you give him. Everything. His room is beginning to look like the prize shelf at an arcade.

"This is quite the conundrum, isn't it..." Jamil mutters. "Are you sure I can't-"

"No! I need to come up with it on my own! They're just... so good at gift-giving. I wonder how they do it..." Kalim sighs. Jamil rolls his eyes.

"Then... perhaps I can offer some advice. The sort of gift you're looking to give doesn't come from here," Jamil says, pointing to his head. He trails his finger down to his chest.

"...It comes from here."

Though that was complete nonsense, Kalim lights up. "I-I think I understand! Thanks, Jamil!"

And then he's gone.

Trapped in a circle of friends and Scarabia students, you awkwardly smile at their birthday wishes.

Grim's greedy little paws dig into the homemade cake before the candles are out, getting icing all over himself. You chuckle, a warm, loving sound that makes Kalim beam. Good so far.

"Time for gifts. We do have a curfew to mind," Jamil says, and Grim laughs maniacally, reaching out for the first box.

"Actually," Kalim says, smiling as if it were his own birthday. "I was hoping I'd get to give my gift first!"

You chuckle. "I don't see why not,"

Kalim returns the gesture, and he stands on the table, drawing everyone's attention to him. Jamil raises an eyebrow.

"I'm not seeing a box!" Grim shouts, and you shush him. Kalim clears his throat.

"I'm usually not so bad at this, but I had a lot of trouble thinking of the perfect present for you... until Jamil said I was thinking too much here... and not here," he says, pointing first to his head, and then lower, to his throat.

You give Jamil a confused look, but he looks just as lost.

"So... that's what I'm going to do. Happy birthday!"

Everyone watches in some mix of amusement and horror as Kalim begins to sing... in your honor.

Without any accompanying music, he performs, in front of everyone you know, a song about everything he loves about you. Even Jamil looks horrified.

When it's over, the room is quiet. Everyone is staring at Kalim as if his head had fallen off.

Then, slowly, you stand. And you clap.

You're beaming. "That was amazing! Again! Again!"

Kalim grins, unphased by the weird looks everyone is giving you two, and he hops off the table to pull you into a hug.

"I'm so glad you liked it!"

"Liked it!? That was..." you laugh, hugging him back. "That was perfect."

"I can sing it as much as you want! Every night, if it makes you happy!"

"Sevens help me..." Jamil sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Trey gives him a sympathetic pat on the back.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #queued #kalim al asim x reader

705 notes · View notes

archiverstappen · 10 months ago

Text

the cat sitter (part 15) ✧ max verstappen

max verstappen x fem! reader

previous part | masterlist

loosely inspired by the story on how max lost his cat

[twitter]

[instagram]

[messages]

[twitter]

[max’s messages]

[messages]

[instagram]

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc and 2.827.515 others

maxverstappen1 🐈

view all 1.736 comments

landonorris Never beating the crazy cat lady allegations

danielricciardo 😍

yourusername i miss you ed, edd, and eddy. gone... but never forgotten 😿

↳ maxverstappen1 you named them?

↳ yourusername yes? 🤷‍♀️

username i dont care guys this is enough sign for me, it’s canon

username please tell me that she at least kept one of those cats

↳ yourusername maximus won’t let me keep them 💔

↳ maxverstappen1 Pretty sure that’s illegal 🤗

bffusername so is this the reason why you always take so long on your dates? because y/n can’t resist touching every single cat on the streets? [deleted]

bffusername cool pics! 😁👍

↳ yourusername ouH GIRL WHEN I CATCH YOU

↳ username PLEASE TELL ME THAT I WAS NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO SAW THE DELETED COMMENT 😭

username don’t know about you guys but the hand on her head awakened something feral in me

[twitter]

[interview]

[twitter]

[instagram]

yourusername

liked maxverstappen1 and 231 others

yourusername these are a few of my favorite things 🫧 🤍 🎶

view all 42 comments

landonorris He got game after all

↳ yourusername unlike you

↳ landonorris OUCH??

↳ maxverstappen1 😂

maxverstappen1 Lovely 🤍

bffusername this cake looks way better than maximus' birthday cake, progress!! 💪🏼

↳ yourusername 😎

bffusername now i'm curious, what did you say during mario kart? 🤔

↳ maxverstappen1 A lot of curse words

victoriaverstappen Enjoy your holiday guys, see you soon! 🧡

↳ yourusername MAX AND I WANT TO BABYSIT LUKA AND LIO AGAIN!!

↳ maxverstappen1 Y/N......

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername and 2.103.273 others

maxverstappen1 More passion, more energy ❄️

view all 7.322 comments

yourusername i kinda hate you right now ngl

↳ maxverstappen1 She's so brave, she's well behaved, she's not afraid 💪🏼

↳ yourusername HUSH

yourusername delete??? or i'll post a video of you dancing to 'paint the town red'??

↳ maxverstappen1 YOU WOULDN'T DARE

↳ yourusername I SAID WHAT I SAID 👹

↳ username y/n i would give you my cat if i could see a video of max doing a tiktok trend 🧎‍♀️

↳ yourusername check your dm please xoxoxoxo

yourusername MORE FOOTWORK MORE FOOTWORK 🕺🏽

charles_leclerc 😂

alex_albon Fucking finally 😮‍💨

landonorris I called dibs on being captain of the ship

↳ bffusername hi there, sorry to bother you. y/n's bff here. that position is already taken 🙏

↳ username speak uP? danielricciardo

↳ danielricciardo I don't engage in useless banter, I already have the position of being the godfather of their future child 😁

↳ landonorris exPLAIN??? maxverstappen1 yourusername

username the fact that this post has better engagement than max's wdc post i-

username now we know how max knew all of the viral tiktok sounds 😭

↳ yourusername we're planning to make a tiktok couple account

↳ username ?!??!?!??!?!??! ARE YOU FOR REAL

↳ yourusername please don't take it seriously, I WAS JOKING 😁🙏

author's notes: eden the scammer is back after 2 months guys, so sorry for making you guys wait too long (and giving you guys false hope) 👹 really hope you guys liked this one hehe, i also take additional request for tcs!! (but as you probably know, it's gonna take me 8273 years to finally post it). there are some references from my lando series in this part, so if you're interested you can also check it out 😙 LOVE YOUUUWWW, now i will hibernate for another 5 months 🤸‍♀️

taglist: @flwr-stella @reidsworld @myloverjk-blog @debss-319 @hiraethrhapsody @electrobutterfly @love4lando @lunnnix @allenajade-ite @jjsprobablywrong @whoreks @soleilgrec @oscarwildingsworld @christianpulisic10 @thievin-stealing @glitterf1 @elliegrey2803 @trouble-sistar @escapism-writer @cornerofacry @hollie911 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @ad-astra-again @canyon-lwt @thecubanator2 @lifesuckslife @leclercloml @sunny44 @nmw-am @sachaa-ff @multilovebot @glow-ish @moneygramhaas @whitefireproofs @icarus-nex @iloveyou3000morgan @ccallistata @copper-boom @fictionalcharacterslut @celesteblack08 @maxiel-jpg @slytherheign @lunyyx @series-books-food @coffeehurricanes @shrimpyshrimp @somanyfandomsbruh @justcallmeelli @laneyspaulding19 @ironmaiden1313

pictures (c) to pinterest

#max verstappen #formula 1 #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen smau #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smau #archiverstappen

2K notes · View notes

darkmatilda · 14 days ago

Text

𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a spontaneous idea for a new year's eve party doesn't seem so brilliant anymore when there's so much to do and so little time left. and when the sound of fireworks wakes you up with flashbacks. but luckily, reid's right there with you. as always.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer x newbau!female reader, baking cookies together, the beginning is really chaotic, reader has a panic attack and flashbacks from time when she was a hostage (in my previous fic but there's no need to read it before. no major references as usual), mention of shooting. penelope garcia slaying. glasses read one more time (will i ever get bored of this?) a lot of jokes (successful i hope) most of the fic is very fluffy, inspired by new year's eve by taylor swift (i recommend listening to this song on repeat while reading)

𝐚/𝐧: this is probably one of my fav fics of mine, i literally cried while writing (because there's no one to clean up the bottles with me on new year's day)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 6k

“Okay, I think we’ve got everything. Although, do you think we have enough types of cheese...?”

“There’s so much cheese it won’t even fit on one board, Pen.”

“Exactly, so maybe we should make two…”

“Hey, look. Do you think these glasses will work for champagne?”

“Two boards—one with cheese, more savory, and the other with…”

“Because I don’t think I have any others. Jesus, I need to wash these; they’re fucking sticky…”

“…and on the second one, we’ll arrange the cookies we’re going to bake…”

“Shit, the cookies. I’m not even sure if this oven works…”

“Wait, did we even buy olives? Fuck, how could we forget olives…”

“Screw the olives! Wash the glasses if you can, and I’ll check the oven…”

“What do you mean, screw the olives?! How the fuck are you supposed to make a cheese board without olives?!”

For about twenty minutes now, you and Garcia had been running around the kitchen in your house, talking over each other non-stop and hardly listening. A grocery bag sat unopened on the kitchen island, you hadn’t started preparing a single one of your overly ambitious snacks, and some pesky gremlin was doing flips on your shoulder, whispering tauntingly, you know it’s highly likely the milk in your fridge is expired, right?

Well, that’s just how it goes when you decide to throw a New Year’s Eve party spontaneously—on New Year’s Eve afternoon. Honestly, it was a fucking miracle so many people agreed to come. And once they said yes, there was no backing out. You had to organize everything: the food, decorating your house, outfits, makeup. With every passing minute, Penelope was transforming into a full-blown organizational beast, completely unsure what to tackle first. The two cute space buns on top of her head had fallen apart, leaving her blonde curls loosely cascading down her neck—not that she even seemed to notice.

You, on the other hand, were losing steam fast. All you wanted was to curl up in a ball on the floor and eat cheese without bothering to arrange it on a board in an aesthetic way. Two types of people under time pressure.

To make matters worse, the doorbell rang.

“Coming!” you shouted, your voice so filled with irritation that, if you were in the visitor’s shoes, you’d have turned and run for your life. Quickly, you opened the fridge and sniffed the damned milk. No signs of spoilage, thank fuck. There was no way you had time to go back to the store…

You made it to the door, and halfway there, you realized you were still holding the open bottle of milk you had forgotten to put back. You sighed, turned around, and with a double dose of rage, anxiety, and sheer insanity, you finally opened the door.

"Hey," Reid greeted, standing on the doorstep. His glasses were perched on his nose, and his hair was slightly tousled from the rather strong wind that day. Without even looking at you, he pointed to the brown bag hanging from his shoulder. "So, about those board games, when you invited me, I decided to look something up online and ordered one that I think you'll like. It's inspired by the works of Jane Austen, and players take on the roles of characters from the Regency era..."

"Is someone trying to sell you something, or what?" You heard Penelope's voice from the kitchen.

"Anyway, I ordered it, but unfortunately, it didn’t arrive, so I just grabbed chess and..."

You could only manage a confused shake of your head.

"Reid, with all due respect, but what the hell are you talking about?"

He looked at you as if you’d asked him for the juicy details of raccoon marital life.

"You invited me over for New Year’s," he reminded you, frowning slightly, as if wondering whether he’d gotten something wrong—like the day, maybe. "Me and Garcia. We were supposed to play board games..."

Your mouth dropped open as you suddenly remembered he was absolutely right. You had invited him. For board games. And then forgot to cancel after you’d all decided to spend the evening in a completely different way.

"Give me just a second," you said, and without waiting for a reply, slammed the door in his face.

Then you screamed. Stomping your foot like a frustrated child. Why, oh why, did you have the memory of a goldfish? Forgetting literally everything, from buying those damn olives to canceling this meeting. Why did the last day of the year have to suck so much? Why couldn’t anything in your life just go smoothly?

"The plans have… slightly changed," you explained with an apologetic smile when you reopened the door.

Reid rocked slightly on his heels, his hand clenched around the strap of his bag. He had clearly heard what happened after you closed the door and looked as though he was debating whether to hand you a note with the number of a good psychiatrist.

"But that doesn't mean I'm kicking you out," you assured him quickly. "I’m really, really glad you decided to come, seriously. So, sorry about how things turned out. But still—will you come in? Garcia's here."

He shrugged and followed you inside.

"What exactly does plans have changed mean?" he asked.

He didn’t look around the room—he’d been to your house countless times before. Lately, for the past few months, with an increasing frequency. But he did stare curiously at a disheveled Penelope, who was busy loading glasses into the dishwasher.

"Well, we met up for lunch," she began explaining without even turning to face him. You didn’t waste the little time you had either, pulling ingredients for cookies out of the fridge. "We talked a bit about Derek and Elle spending New Year’s Eve in the Maldives. And our princess here decided that she wasn’t going to spend the evening in a nerdy way, playing nerdy board games, with two nerds like us..."

"I didn’t say that!" you protested indignantly.

"...while they’re sipping cocktails on the beach and having a great time. And so, it turned out we’re throwing a party."

The explanation came to an end, and Reid listened to it all without much emotion on his face, something you caught out of the corner of your eye. But you didn’t expect him to be devastated. After all, it wasn’t as if you had canceled an event the two of you had been counting down to like prisoners marking days on their cell walls, eagerly awaiting freedom.

Standing by the kitchen island, he glanced at you, then at Garcia, then behind him, as if unsure whether he should stay or politely excuse himself and leave.

“You’re invited, by the way,” you clarified, because while you thought it was obvious, maybe it wasn’t so clear to him. “So, yeah, if you’re planning to come, you have no choice—you have to help me bake these cookies. Get with it.”

You tossed him one of the aprons. The other you began tying around your waist.

Reid caught the object you threw, looked at it with furrowed brows, then shifted his gaze to you, a hint of something resembling a smile flickering across his face.

“Who said I’m planning to come?” he asked.

His mock-offensive tone didn’t quite match what he was doing—slipping the apron over his head. It made you snort.

“Oh, what, got other plans, pretty boy?” Penelope teased. “Some wild party at the book club?”

She leaned over to close the dishwasher. But instead of straightening up, she froze in place, staring at her reflection in the machine’s door. Her jaw dropped, and she gasped in something close to horror.

“What happened to my hair? I look... I look like…”

“Like a homeless caveman who just barely won a fight with lightning?” you suggested in a syrupy tone. “But only just.”

“Excuse me for a moment,” she huffed.

She left the kitchen, the sound of her heels echoing as she headed upstairs to the bathroom. Reid turned to himself with a smug expression.

“Does a caveman qualify as homeless if he lives in a cave…”

You interrupted him with your outstretched hand, pressing it to his mouth.

“Cookies, Reid. Not philosophy.”

You were planning to bake simple butter cookies in the shape of stars, and then decorate them with edible glitter. You started pulling out all the necessary ingredients from the fridge and cabinets, which were soon covering the countertop in your kitchen. You stood side by side, and your eyes were drawn to the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt, barely touching his wrists. Unable to resist, you grabbed his hand and started rolling the sleeves up to his elbows.

"You could've just told me..." he began, looking at you in surprise.

You merely shrugged. You found yourselves facing each other, and you nodded towards his other hand, which he gave you after a brief hesitation. Just like before, you rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, but this time much more slowly. As more of his skin appeared before your eyes, you gathered yourself to speak.

"I feel a bit bad about how things turned out with the games," you admitted, not looking up to meet his gaze. You focused on his hand, holding it by the knuckles.

"It's okay," he reassured you, his voice soft without a hint of reproach.

"I should've warned you earlier," you continued stubbornly. "Instead of doing it last minute. And, you know, if you don't want to come to this party, that's totally okay. I know you were expecting something different..."

"I was expecting to spend time with you," he interrupted, then paused to clear his throat. It was then that you realized you were still holding his hand. His fingers trembled slightly when you let go, and he immediately shoved it into his pocket—perhaps to hide it. "We can have a game night another time. On a different day. Like, this weekend, for example. If you'd want, of course. Not that I'm pressuring you..."

"I would like that," you assured him, looking up at him with a smile, amused by his over-explaining. It always charmed you. You used to think it was because you didn't know each other well and he still felt nervous around you, but as time passed, you came to realize that maybe that was just how he was. "Seriously. And it's not just because I feel guilty about how I left you hanging today. I'm genuinely curious about that game you ordered. It’s inspired by Austen's novels, right?"

He started to tell you more about it, while you both added the first ingredients into a large glass bowl. As he began to knead the dough with his hands, you leaned your elbow on the countertop, propping your chin on your hand, listening to him.

"...one of the symbols of excess in 17th century England was a dish called A Pie of a Thousand Birds..."

You wondered when the conversation had shifted to this topic, while Penelope was still in the bathroom.

"...containing various kinds of birds, sometimes in different layers, cooked together. In the earliest records of this dish, it mentions anywhere from a dozen to several dozen birds such as quails, chickens, geese..."

Reid suddenly stopped when his gaze landed on you. He must have been so absorbed in kneading the dough and sharing this tidbit with you that he was completely unaware of the fact that you were staring at him.

You raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Is something wrong?"

"No," he quickly assured you, adjusting his glasses on his nose. He had a bit of dough on his skin, which seemed to escape his notice. He furrowed his brow, trying to remember where he'd left off. "And... quails..."

You couldn't bring yourself to tell him he'd already mentioned them. Instead of that, you moved from your spot, slowly lifting your hands off the counter and approached him to wipe away the stray bit of dough beneath his eye. Reid, wanting to make sure nothing else was left on his face, wiped it with his hand… which was completely covered in dough. At the sight of his expression when he realized what he had done, you couldn't help but burst out laughing, your head resting against his apron from the weight of it. Meanwhile, he desperately tried to wipe away the remnants using the clean skin of his forearms, muttering a few curses under his breath, which only made you laugh harder.

"I see you're having a great time," Penelope returned to the kitchen.

On top of her head were two cute buns once again, resembling little snails.

"The best," you corrected, undeterred, trying once more to wipe his face. This time, not as gently as before, until he flinched back under the pressure of your hand, scrunching his nose tightly.

You glanced at the clock, and your playful mood started to wane. There was still so much to do, and you rallied everyone into action. Penelope rolled up her sleeves to prepare the charcuterie boards (it turned out the olives were at the bottom of the bag), you got to work on the mini sandwiches, and Reid was busy cutting out star shapes from the rolled-out dough using a champagne bottle as a makeshift rolling pin.

“Oh, by the way, Pen,” you began, opening the heated oven to put in the first batch of cookies, “we’re still going to kiss at midnight, right?”

“That’s right, sweetheart. Nothing’s changed,” your friend replied, focused on arranging various types of cheese into the best possible combination.

Reid, meanwhile, was taking off his apron, folding it into a perfectly neat square, a frown of concentration on his face.

“Why kiss specifically at midnight?” he asked.

“You haven’t heard about that tradition?” you asked, surprised. “A kiss at midnight brings good luck in love and relationships for the whole next year. Skipping it means the opposite.”

“I didn’t know you were superstitious.”

“It’s just a gesture. Or maybe, better put, a symbol. But anyway, last year I was having a bit too much fun and passed out before midnight. And, well, I don’t think I need to tell you it wasn’t the best year for relationships. Or rather, the lack of them.”

“Doesn’t that mean you should kiss two people this year? One for the previous year and one for the current one?” Garcia suggested thoughtfully.

You mulled it over as well.

“Actually, that makes sense. But who?”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone,” your friend assured you. “There’s bound to be some handsome volunteer. And if not, Reid could always be your backup option.”

You glanced at him briefly, biting your lip as you considered the suggestion. Funny enough, you hadn’t thought of him at all. Not because you found the idea of kissing him unpleasant or something you wouldn’t want to do. It was just… this tradition felt more like grabbing a random person, the first friend within reach. Something done without much thought—a gesture that, in this context, meant absolutely nothing serious.

Wait, but with Reid, would it mean something serious? Why the hesitation all of a sudden? You shook your head, dismissing the train of thought.

You looked at him again; he seemed to be making a deliberate effort to keep his gaze fixed on Penelope, not on you. Though as soon as he sensed you looking at him, he turned his eyes to meet yours, his expression unreadable.

“What do you think?” you asked before you could stop yourself. To ease the sudden, inexplicable tension, you added with a playful smile, “My entire romantic year would rest in your hands—or rather, on your lips. Would you be ready to take on such a sacrifice?”

“Think carefully, darling,” Penelope chimed in, pointing a finger at him. “Otherwise, we’ll all have to spend the next twelve months listening to her complain about how awful men are and how unlucky she is in love…”

“I’m starting to feel an unjustified amount of pressure,” Reid remarked cautiously. You kept staring at him, arms crossed over your chest as you stood near the oven, its orange glow casting a warm light across the kitchen.

“No pressure. And just so we’re clear, it’s not like I’m taking advantage of you. You’d benefit from this too. Unless, of course, you decide to kiss someone else—then, fine…”

“Considering I probably won’t know anyone else at this party? Slim chances…”

A snort escaped you before you could stop it. Both of them turned to you with curiosity.

“What I mean…” you began hesitantly, gesturing toward him. He was objectively handsome—maybe not every woman’s type, but then again, no man was. In your opinion, though, he absolutely was. There was something about his polished, intellectual demeanor that occasionally clashed with his sharp wit, creating a strangely magnetic allure. You gestured at him again, as if emphasizing your point. “Just try not rolling down the sleeves of that shirt until midnight, and you’ll see your chances aren’t that slim.”

He shook his head, utterly bewildered.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Oh, Pen, explain it to him,” you sighed in mock defeat.

“She means your forearms are sexy,” Penelope clarified without missing a beat.

Reid looked down at his hands as though they belonged to someone else entirely. You exchanged an amused glance with Garcia, and the whole midnight kiss topic… well, it drifted away. You weren’t entirely sure if he had agreed or not.

You wanted to casually bring it up again, but soon Penelope left the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone with a tray of freshly baked cookies ready to be decorated. Somehow, to your own surprise, you couldn’t summon the courage to ask.

"I bought edible glitter specifically for these cookies," you said, pulling a small box from the cupboard. "Apparently, it’s flavorless, but it’ll make the star-shaped cookies look magical. Maybe we should mix it with the icing?"

Reid stared intently at the label on the bottle, silent.

"What? What’s wrong?" you asked, suddenly worried.

"That’s not edible glitter," he announced. For a split second, you thought you saw the corner of his mouth twitch. But when he noticed your completely bewildered—and now slightly furious—expression, his face quickly returned to its usual stillness. "It’s just regular glitter."

"You’ve got to be kidding me, Reid."

"Since when does edible glitter contain polyethylene terephthalate and aluminum?"

You snatched the package out of his hands, and when his words were confirmed, you slapped your forehead.

"Did I just almost kill all my guests?"

"Maybe not kill them right away," he said, his tone comforting as he took the package back from your hands before you could hit yourself with it again. "Complications from eating include gastrointestinal irritation like vomiting, nausea, and possibly damage to the mucous membranes of the mouth..."

"You're not helping."

"Sorry."

For a moment, you both stood in silence, your gaze still fixed on the tray of cooling cookies.

"But this isn't the end of the world," Reid said gently after a moment. "They still have their... interesting shape. We can decorate them with regular icing. Draw something on them. They may not sparkle, but they'll be just as delicious. And that's probably the most important thing, right?"

You knew he was right, but still, there was a certain sadness in the way you nodded. It took you a while to realize how much you’d been obsessing over such a small thing. You let out a chuckle, and he did the same.

"And I even came up with an idea for what to do with the glitter," you announced after a moment, taking the open box in your hands. A bit of the shimmering particles landed on your outstretched palm, and Reid squinted when you blew on it, sending the glitter his way. "I’ll make you shine. You’ll match the rest of the decorations..."

When Penelope returned to the kitchen, she found herself in the middle of a full-blown war, not even a battle anymore. Reid had both of your hands raised and held still, preventing you from reaching for another handful of glitter. You tried to wriggle out of this trap, kneeing him or doing something, but it wasn't really working. So there you were, looking like you were caught in some kind of bizarre dance neither of you knew the steps to, but your half-smiling faces suggested you weren’t too bothered by it.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to get that glitter out of your hair until the next New Year’s Eve.

You had a rule to be careful with alcohol when the party was at your house.

You preferred to make sure everything was running smoothly. Nothing slipped out of control — no one played baseball with your TV (although you hoped the adult crowd had outgrown that kind of entertainment), no one felt unwell or needed help. Moving between people, conversations, and laughter, asking if anyone needed anything or was having a good time, reminding everyone not to smoke inside. You didn’t notice when it all started to drain you. So much so that you decided to sneak away for a moment in the upstairs bathroom.

You just needed a little time alone, splashing cold water on your neck, playing a game on your phone for five minutes while sitting on the closed toilet seat. That’s all you needed.

Your bathroom had a window, usually left open. The room was on the second floor, so there was no chance anyone could be watching. You never worried about it. The window overlooked the yard of one of your neighbors, whom you didn’t even know. As you returned, you stood with your hands on the cool sink, your eyes half-closed from exhaustion but feeling a sense of relief.

Midnight was in fifteen minutes. The year was ending in fifteen minutes.

A lot has happened over the past twelve months. The most important, of course, was joining the BAU. A huge achievement for someone so young, always commented on with a surprised raise of the eyebrows, so much so that it still hadn’t fully sunk in for you. A fair amount, but still not enough, of cases solved, unsub caught, lives saved.

Apart from the professional achievements, there was also something you couldn’t add to your CV or your dating profile. Memories. The big ones, and the ones often overlooked. The countless smiles exchanged over office desks, the amused nudges of elbows, the hours spent in simple laughter. The nights, the ones spent dancing in clubs or at house parties, the ones in your friends' homes with bottles of wine passed from hand to hand and gossip flowing from your lips, one after the other, in a constant stream of surprised exclamations and sighs. There were also those spent in sad motels during business trips. Many of them, but it was the shabby ones that stuck with you the most. Narrow beds shared with Reid, because of his fear of the dark, which worsened in such places. Sometimes silly conversations and arguments, but also the more serious ones. Comforting. And, of course, you had to include the people around you, those you met this year, and those who have been with you for a long time. All the moments when you were happy, and all the ones when you cried. The books and movies. Those that disappointed you so much that you cursed them for days. Those that made you laugh until you choked, but also the ones that nailed you to the theater seat, your gaze vacant and your mind drifting somewhere on the waves of an existential crisis.

You thought about it all with a small smile on your lips

Unfortunately, when you focused on reflecting on the passing year, another memory hit you—one of those decidedly unpleasant ones. The one where, under the guise of normality, you found yourself in the middle of a robbery, becoming a hostage. And as you watched one body after another drop motionless to the floor, blood pooling around them.

The sink you were leaning against grew warm. Your hands were hot, sweating. You shook your head, trying to push away the uncomfortable memory. Why dwell on it? It was over, long over...

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a flash in your neighbor's yard. A bright spot rising into the air, even though it wasn't even midnight yet. What kind of idiot sets off fireworks before the New Year? What was the point of that?

You straightened up, an irrational sense of danger taking hold of you. As if that fired projectile was about to crash through your window, causing an explosion in the room. Absurd, you knew that. But then the sound hit. A blast, almost like a gunshot. A gunshot coming from an unknown direction, fading lights around you, and screams. You took a breath as another shot rang out. Fireworks lit up the night sky, a green glow spilling into your bathroom, painting your face. You stayed frozen, breath held, with your chest tight.

You knew you should move, shake off the state that the experience had put you in, but… you couldn’t. Although physically unharmed, in your own home, fear took control, robbing you of your agency. Your heartbeat quickened to an unnatural pace, a sickly rhythm. It paralyzed your limbs, one by one, while images kept flashing before your eyes, intensifying with each approaching shot.

Since your actions and most of your awareness remained beyond your control, you soon realized that you were sitting on the floor. And, worst of all, a silhouette cast its shadow over you. You flinched, expecting to see a pair of leather boots and a gun pointed at you.

“It’s just me,” came a quiet, familiar voice, somehow cutting through the wall that separated you from the world. “Me, Spencer. Sorry I came in, but you didn’t respond when I knocked... okay, that doesn’t really matter right now.”

He sighed and crouched down right in front of you, his forehead furrowed in concern. Hesitantly, he reached for your shoulder, lightly touching it, but you flinched the moment his hand moved.

“No touching, it’s okay. I understand, I get it. I understand... what you’re going through.” He spoke quietly and calmly, but you could see a hint of panic crossing his face as he carefully observed yours, choosing his words. He swallowed hard. “You’re really scared, your hands are shaking, you can’t... you can’t breathe. It’s a panic attack, you know what that means. And... it’s temporary. The important thing is to just breathe. I know it’s hard... but just try…”

The surrounding air seemed thick, like some dense gas filling your nostrils and painfully entering your lungs. You shook your head in refusal, not wanting to do it again.

"Slowly, they don’t have to be deep breaths. Just try to make them steady, okay? Please," he continued, settling down closer to you on the floor. He was also breathing the way he described, trying to demonstrate for you. Focusing on the rise and fall of his chest, you made another attempt. It went... better.

"Exactly like that. We're at a party now, remember? At your house. We baked cakes specially for the occasion. It's New Year's Eve and people are shooting fireworks... those are fireworks, just regular fireworks..."

The green glow crept in again through the window, covering and retreating from your two huddled forms on the floor like a tide. You focused on what he was saying, alternately keeping your eyes tightly shut and wide open. You preferred them closed—it was easier to listen to him that way. But when you closed them, it felt like he was so far away. You reached out with trembling hands, trying to touch him, to make sure he was really there in front of you. And before you realized it, you fell into his embrace, your hands clutching his back in panic with every new shot outside.

You could close your eyes; his presence and scent were with you. You could close your eyes, pretend it wasn’t happening, that you weren’t there.

But it didn’t stop. Reid whispered that it was midnight, and the next round of fireworks shot into the sky, sending those trembling sounds that rattled you. A part of your mind knew why this was happening, so why did your body still react this way?

You buried yourself deeper into his arms, feeling some weight on the top of your head—he must have rested his chin there. You kept trying to breathe, and by accident, you inhaled the scent of his neck, which, surprisingly, helped. One breath after another. In and out. His skin. Another shot outside. In and out.

It must have been many minutes before it finally stopped. You both ended up leaning against the wall, side by side. Your knees were pulled to your chest, his legs stretched out. From downstairs, through the floor, came the muffled sound of music, and that’s what you focused on. On that, and on counting the tiles on the neighboring wall, on the hands of Reid’s watch moving forward. On the details, helping you ground yourself.

"How do you feel now?" he broke the silence that had lasted for several minutes with a quiet question.

You pressed the back of your head to the wall behind you, closing your eyes for a moment.

"Better," you said after a moment. The sound from your throat was raspy, and you swallowed, pausing for a second. "Isn't it... isn't it a strange twist of fate that we're always there for each other when something bad happens to the other person?"

You kept your gaze fixed ahead, and from the corner of your eye, you saw him looking at you. Slowly, he shrugged.

"Isn't that what friendship is about?" he asked.

Then, you shrugged.

"Friendship," you repeated, turning the word around on your tongue. You shook your head slightly. "I guess so. I mean, I guess that's what it's about." For a moment, you paused, lightly licking your lips. Your mind was still clouded, and you struggled to form coherent sentences. "I completely forgot what I was talking about a moment ago. What was it about again?"

Reid smiled gently at the look on your face, the expression confused but calm. And then... his hand slowly dropped to the top of your head, gently stroking it and sliding down along your cheek, where it stopped.

"Friendship," he repeated slowly.

Suddenly, as if realizing something, he turned his head slightly, as if to pull his hand away, but you stopped him. You grabbed it, and even though it had moved away from your face, your cheek, you enclosed it in a gentle grasp with both of your hands, the way a shell embraces a pearl.

You noticed the time on his watch.

"It’s already past midnight," you remarked. "Do you think everyone’s too drunk to look for us, or do they just honestly not care what we've been doing in the bathroom for the past hour?"

He chuckled at your words, amused by your suggestive tone.

"Don’t want to go back?" he asked, making sure.

You immediately shook your head.

"Not yet. I like it here. And I guess I’m not ready," you said, the last part tinged with a slight embarrassment. He nodded understandingly, signaling that it was okay. You didn’t have to leave yet.

You sighed, probably for the hundredth time.

"Honestly, I’ve completely lost my party mood. We could’ve played those board games instead. When I think about the bottles I’ll have to clean up tomorrow, I just feel like I might puke."

"We'll be here. Me. And Garcia," he reminded you. "You thought we were just going to disappear together, expecting you to clean up all this mess by yourself?"

"It's not really your responsibility," you replied with a slight shrug. However, a small, grateful smile tugged at your lips. "It would have been enough if you helped me set it all up. Even if it meant the entire kitchen glittering with sparkles before the party even started."

"New Year’s Eve decorations."

"Right," you scoffed. "That I’ll never get rid of. It will always look like a place where My Little Pony ponies had an alcoholic binge."

As you continued to stare at his hand, lying limp on your lap, and at his watch, you realized something else. A thought that made you tilt your head back with a sigh.

"I missed midnight again," you groaned suddenly. "Third year in a row. Where am I supposed to find three people to kiss next year, when I couldn't even find two this time?"

"You did manage," Reid pointed out, frowning slightly. "Penelope. And if you're counting your backup option, that would be me too."

"Would you?" you asked, surprised.

Pleasantly surprised. This subject had slipped by so quickly that you were sure his final answer would have been a no. You glanced fleetingly at his lips. They were slightly parted, probably in the same way they would have been if everything had gone according to plan. If you had found yourselves facing each other under the full, colorful-blinking night sky.

He nodded slightly in response, his upper and lower lips meeting. You tore your gaze away from them and refocused on the rest of his face.

"Sure," he replied aloud. He was close, the words escaping him with a slight breath of his air. "I mean... I'd also like to have a good year. So far, it’s started well. Anyway... yeah. I don't mind if you extend my backup option subscription for next year too."

The way he phrased it amused you. you lowered your gaze for a moment with a smile. Then you nodded, turning your head back toward him.

"So I guess I have my lineup for next New Year's," you said, letting go of his hand to start counting on your fingers. Both of you only realized then that you had been holding it at all. "First, of course, my husband..."

"Husband?" he interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

"I’m being very ambitious this year, Reid," you assured him, with mock seriousness. "Then Garcia, if she agrees again. But she probably will. Unless Derek gets in the way. Oh well, I’ll just send him to the tropics again. And then, number three, you."

"Your husband won’t mind if you kiss me?"

Something changed in his expression, and it was becoming harder for you to maintain eye contact. Your gaze kept dropping, as if it were searching for something against your will. Plus, the whole bathroom suddenly felt incredibly small, your movements slow, like in slow motion. You forced yourself to wave it off dismissively.

"He’ll understand," you said, forcing yourself to take a breath. You had forgotten again, but this time, it wasn’t panic. It was more about his face, so close to yours, the side of your head against the wall, your bodies nearly touching. "Well, he won’t have a choice. If he wants our marriage to last happily and forever, he’ll have to let me make up for all those lost years, those three missed kisses. Sorry... if I’m talking nonsense right now, just tell me, I don’t know what’s happening with me..."

When he kissed you, for a moment, you couldn’t find yourself. Even though everything had been leading to this, with your faces so close for the last twenty minutes, gazes repeatedly falling on each other's lips, it still surprised you. You sucked in a breath through your nose as his lips pressed into yours.

Only when his hand, the same one you had been playing with for so long, the one that had earlier caressed your cheek, fell back into the same place, carelessly resting and brushing the tips of his fingers against a small part of your ear, did you truly feel it. You squeezed your eyelids shut, placing your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. It wasn’t the kind of kiss you usually associated with New Year’s Eve, one you’d forget the next day or mention with a fleeting smile. Every thought of it was meant to bring overwhelming loneliness to your lips, to make you imagine it still lasting. It alternated between tasting you slowly and carefully and consuming you with the anticipation held captive between you.

You sighed softly against his lips, and he mirrored it when you briefly pulled away. Your breaths mingled, your faces still close, foreheads gently touching.

“I almost forgot,” you whispered, barely lifting your eyelids. “Happy New Year.”

He smiled, his lips brushing yours once more for a fleeting moment.

“May your wishes come true...or something like that.”

“Or something like that.” you whispered, completely distracted, before pulling him back to you again.

taglist: @she-wont-miss @mggslover @nyeddleblog @dylanobrienswife0420 @wmoony

@heddgie @khxna @marauder-exe-old @yujyujj @charleyreid @kitty-kai @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @beesin03 @misserabella @re1dsb1xch @trulymadlydarling

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #dr reid

351 notes · View notes

garoujo · 1 year ago

Text

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU ; — you can’t help but feel a little upset thinking that your boyfriend has forgotten your anniversary.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, none, fluff! although it gets a tiny bit hawt at the end! ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! an anon suggested this drabble idea literally like sometime last year + the new szn finally gave me some motivation to write it! i hope u see this!

3 years.. 3 years and gojo didn’t leave you with so much as a “happy anniversary” as he left this morning. you’d have even taken an extra smack on the ass during your usual morning makeout session, the taste of his two sugar’s too sweet coffee on his tongue as it twists with yours and his hands on your waist.. but that’s it, that’s all???

so now you’re here, angrily stomping back to your shared apartment after the few errands you had to run today because you took the day off to celebrate. but your dumb, stupidly handsome boyfriend doesn’t even know what for as he rambles on the other side of the phone.

“can feel you poutin’, what’s gotten into my sweet girl? hm?” gojo hums like hes thinking about something, his same sickly sweet tone dripping through you like honey despite the way you want to be mad at him right now— you would’ve ignored the call all together, just to be petty if you didn’t know he’d turn up at the door a second later.

“nothing. i’m just almost home that’s all.” you’re lying and you know he can tell, he always could. he could pick up every slight, little change in your attitude like he seen right through you.

“oh yeah? nothing at all on your mind?” gojo drawls again, there’s a teasing lull to his voice and it makes your pout puff out even more before he breathes out a low chuckle and sighs. “and here i thought you were mad at me. you almost made me cry at work— who would take me seriously then, huh?”

“you’re not funny.” you huff out, short and a little clipped as you finally come to a stop infront of your apartment door — fiddling with your keys in your hand while your pout still rests on your features.

“you sure?”

you really can’t be bothered playing gojo’s games right now and as amusing as he seems to find himself, it’s only making you burn hotter — making your stomach twist with the lump in your throat that you’ve been fighting to keep down all day. you don’t want to get upset, but it meant a lot to you.

you just wanted him to maybe put in a little effort on the one day that you guys really get to celebrate eachother.

“positive. so i’m gonna g—“ you can barely finish your own spiralling, upsetting thoughts before your snapped response through your phone fades on your tongue. but suddenly, the tears youd been fighting to hold back all day seem to come so ruthlessly, gathering along your lashes as you gaze onto the ocean of red that greets you as you open the door.

you’re not sure how many bouquets there are waiting for you there. hundreds? thousands? sitting pretty along the floor, decorating the shared space so beautifully that you don’t even realise that you’ve gone quiet. ofcourse gojo would do something like this, and suddenly you feel a little silly for even doubting him.

“ah, fine. i guess i’ll get the guy to come pick all of those back up then, huh, sweet thing?”

but the smooth tone that sounds from your phone speaker sounds a little louder, closer when it’s accompanied by a long arm wrapping around your waist from behind as kisses are pressed up the side of your neck.

“but, you—“ you try but you feel so overwhelmed, so full of love as gojo’s large figure drapes over you from behind. his face is stuffed into the crook of your neck and you can feel the way his crooked smile sits on his features as it presses against your skin. he feels warm, although you’re sure he’s more than smug right now when he pulls away with an exaggerated gasp that cuts off your sentence.

“as if you’re perfect, good looking boyfriend would ever forget. what do you take me for, hm?” you giggle at that despite the way he’s teasing you again, squeezing at your sides until you’re meeting his gaze and you’re sure you must look so in love when you notice the way his features soften slightly.

“happy anniversary, princess.” gojo grins as he leans into kiss you breathless, twisting into your mouth as his tongue pushes past your lips and you almost rock back with how dizzy he makes you feel. but his hands are on your hips, keeping you close against his chest with a stability that you’d always found in him.

another long press of his lips with yours and you whimper sweetly as he pulls away to look at you, pretty gaze glowing slightly from under the snowy peaks of his hair before he’s smirking again, maybe a little wider this time.

“you gonna laugh f’ me when i tell jokes again? i can feel the tears threatening to start again.” he’s like a professional when his cheeky grin twists into an exaggerated pout, making you laugh again— a little harder this time before you’re pinching at his cheeks playfully and bringing him in for another quick kiss.

“you’re such a dork.” you tease and gojo groans against your lips like he’s offended.

“mmm, no thank you? oh i’m hurt, sweet girl. what’ll i do with you now, hm?” the look he gives you as he pulls away is suspicious, a raised brow as his head falls to the side and he really looks like he’s considering it. until the next moment his large palm is coming down heavy on your ass before his next handful squeezes.

“satoru!” you squeal but that only seems to make him chuckle as he leans down to kiss you again, rougher this time despite the way you’re both smiling giddily into the shared, messy press of eachother. almost too quickly finding yourself pressed up against the wall in the hallway as he melts into you.

“let’s see! oh, i’ve got a few ideas.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff

6K notes · View notes

emptyjunior · 1 year ago

Text

Let's talk about Peeta, I believe he's a fully genuine person and a lot of what he said was authentic. Like he can be manipulative, he has that gift of gab, and we see it a lot more in Catching Fire or later on in the series.

But I do believe he was being very strategic in the first book as well! Like right out the gate!

Kind of the story presented to us is:

-katniss suspicious of him for being nice

-thinks he's playing the game to screw her over

-oh she was wrong he's just a good human being

And I think a lot of elements of that interpretation are true! Katniss is wrong about him trying to screw her over!

But he is still being strategic, he does have plans and he is trying to save himself, not just sacrifice for her.

We all remember the "she came here with me" moment, life changing, showstopping, hilarious. And that was a true moment! He does love Katniss!

And Haymitch interprets it as what it is, a gift to Katniss to make her seem desirable = attract sponsor attention.

But it was also very beneficial to him as well! Like ask yourself what happened just before that.

Katniss had just received a 12, the entire team was excited about just her, immediately forgetful of his 8. Peeta had just told Haymitch they could train without him, something Haymitch says he offered himself (which I believe) but Peeta is not a fool. He was aware that what happens now is: the mentor focuses attention on the one who will win! And Peeta was sparing himself the pain of Haymitch telling him that first.

So Peeta is being forgotten about by Effie and the wardrobe crew (their entire PR/propoganda department) and he is losing training from Haymitch.

So what does he do?

He goes on television and presents the plot of Star Crossed Lovers. Sells the story of the Duo, the Couple.

And it's a valuable story! Effie eats it up, Haymitch knows he can sell it, but the only way to sell it is if the two are a pair. Two lovers training together, coordinating together, being publicly mentored together.

Peeta made sure he was given every advantage Katniss was getting with one simple interview, he's always been strategic. Even more strategic then Snow cause he actually knows how to sell the truth.

And immediately after that is him and Katniss's little moment where they talk about humanity together. Peeta confesses that his greatest fear is becoming like the people in the capitol, becoming not himself.

And Katniss doesn't really understand what he's talking about! And my first read I didn't either!

He's feeling guilty cause he just sold himself. He participated in the bread and circuses, and he's reeling at how easy it was and how good he is at it.

#bread boy does it again #hunger games #peeta mellark #katnis everdeen #haymitch abernathy #effie trinket #books #movies #the hunger games #ballad of songbirds and snakes

2K notes · View notes

spicyspiders · 5 months ago

Text

old man logan part 3

1.6k words

ft scott summers. logan has noticed scott has been angry at work and knows a way to help him relax. old man logan is his own warning, of course, but also a warning for rough oral sex, choking, and boot humping.

Part 1 and Part 2.

“My friend-”

“You have friends?” You ask, playing up your joke with a shocked expression.

Logan sends you a glare after cutting him off, a scowl darkening his handsome face. You bite your lip, trying not to let out the laugh that bubbles up, but when you see the man’s face beside him slit into a grin, you can’t help but let it out.

“My friend,” Logan starts again as he wraps an arm around the man’s shoulders, “I thought Scott could use a little downtime. He’s been a little stressed at work,” he says, sending Scott a knowing look, “I was thinking we could all hang out.”

“I didn’t know people over 45 still used the word hang out,” you responded to Logan.

“What word did you think we used?” Scott asked with a confused smile. Even inside Logan’s house he still wore the sunglasses he showed up in. It kinda weirded you out, but everyone had their quirks, you guessed.

“I don’t know,” you said, giving yourself a few seconds to think, “I thought you just had meetings,” you answered. Scott looked even more confused with your response, which meant maybe Logan was right. It looked like the man needed to spend a little bit of time not thinking so hard, some time where he could turn his brain off and relax.

“After all,” Logan said, turning to look at you, “I always feel much more relaxed after our– what’d you call them?” he asks, now sending you a knowing look.

“Meetings,” you answered with an eye roll. You weren’t a fucking prostitute, but it looked like Logan thought of you as one. Or perhaps this was Logan turning a new leaf like he did when he gave all of the toys back that littered his backyard and he was just trying to help someone else.

Or maybe there was just something weird, sick, and twisted in him that made him want to watch you suck another man’s cock. You had a lot of questions to ask afterwards, but now, you had more pressing matters to handle.

It was easy getting Scott to Logan’s couch, but he was mouthy when it finally came time to get his pants and underwear down, “this isn’t what I thought was going to happen when you invited me over,” he said to Logan, his already hardening cock twitching in your face.

“What?” You think I invited you over for a game of chess,” Logan said with a laugh, “you’ve been so hot-headed lately I thought this would help you cool off,” he said, one of his knees knocking Scott’s.

It was kind of sweet, in a weird, sexual way. It also answered a question you pondered on if Logan was as rude to his friends as he could be to you.

“I’m sorry about him,” you said to Scott, placing a kiss to his thigh, though you were sure he was already familiar with how Logan acted from working with him. “You could stand to be a little nicer,” you said up to Logan.

Ignoring what you said, Logan wrapped his arm around Scott’s shoulder again, “he’ll finally shut up when your dick is in his mouth,” he said to the man beside him.

“You’re sure?” Scott asked. You had forgotten how many times he had asked that since he was able to pick up on why you were really here, but it was sweet of him to ask, even if it started to annoy you after the last few times he asked.

You responded by taking the head of Scott’s cock into your mouth, the man above you gasping. You teased the head with your tongue, swirling the wet muscle around the sensitive glands on the crown. Once his cock was fully hard, you were rewarded with the salty taste of his precum from the slit.

Seemingly in another fucked up way to help him, Logan placed a hand on the back of your neck, “he likes it rough,” he said, his voice an octave lower, “he can take it,” he finished, showing Scott just how well you could by pushing your head down so his cock went deeper.

Scott wasn’t as large as Logan, but that didn’t mean he was anything to scoff at. His cock still brought tears to your eyes as it touched the back of your throat, your nose just a few centimeters away from the thatch of dark hair at the base.

Logan’s hand moved away as he let Scott take control, the man moving much slower than the other as he fed you his cock. Scott groaned when you swallowed and the wet heat of your throat contracted around his cock, his hips jumping off the couch.

The motion made you gag as he went even deeper, your tears spilling over, “attaboy,” Logan said as you heard the clink of his belt buckle unfastening. Though you weren’t sure who he was talking to, if the praise was meant for you for taking Scott’s cock, or if it was for Scott as he took the reins with his hand on your neck, the words still had your cock twitching in your pants.

“You okay?” Scott asked softly, his voice, like Logan’s, deeper than before. He pulled his cock free from your mouth with a hand wrapped around the base and used the other one to wipe at the tears that had fallen.

You nodded, looking up at Scott with a watery smile, one that Scott returned as he placed his hand back around the back of your neck. You glanced over at Logan, your cock jerking in your pants once more at the expression on the man’s face. It was difficult to tell what it was, probably due to the lack of oxygen to your brain from sucking Scott’s cock, but he didn’t exactly look happy.

Logan always looked like that though. The closest emotion your brain could come up with was jealousy. You didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to think about the possibility of Logan being jealous watching you suck another man’s cock. It looked like your cock would think about it though, especially as it grew fully hard in your pants.

Logan’s legs were spread wide, giving you full view of the bulge in his jeans. What you last watched before you closed your eyes and took Scott back into your mouth was his fingers moving past the top of his underwear.

Scott didn’t push with his hand, just laid it there as he let you go at your own pace. It proved to be satisfactory as he moaned above you as you bobbed your head up and down along his cock. It was easier than moments ago to take him deeper, aided by the spit that slicked your way.

You heard a shifting noise on the couch, but with your eyes closed missed the soft, wet noise of Logan spitting into his palm. The slick noise of Logan’s hand along his cock lit a fire in your belly, and the sound of Scott’s moans only made it burn brighter.

Scott came when Logan’s boot made its way between your spread legs and the contact to your cock made you moan. The vibrations went straight up Scott’s cock, right to the tip where cum pulsed from his cock.

You swallowed his salty spend once it hit your tongue, warming your throat as it went down. Scott’s hand tightened around the back of your neck to keep you in place as he came, his hips spasming as his cock throbbed along your tongue. You ran your tongue along the thick vein along the underside, drawing all you could from his cock until it started to soften.

His cock fell from your lips with a pop as Scott’s hand was once again replaced by Logan’s, “ah!” You said in pain as Logan pulled you toward his cock. His hand moved to the front of your neck in a tight grip, locking you in place.

The pace Logan’s hand moved along his cock was impressively fast as he stroked his cock. His boot moved back between your legs, placing the toe of his boot in the perfect position for you to hump your way to completion as Logan fucked his fist.

“You’re like a bitch in heat,” Logan said around a cruel laugh, his words sending you right over the edge.

Your mouth fell open as you moaned, your head still held in face by Logan’s fist. You wheezed your way through your orgasm, Logan’s fingers tightening as he hit his own. Your vision went spotty and darkened along the edges as Logan’s fingers cut off your air supply. Mouth open, you tried to gasp in breaths, another taste hit your tongue as Logan spurted ropes of cum onto your face and a select few landed in your mouth.

“Logan!” Scott said loudly before Logan’s hand fell away from your throat. You fell forward onto Logan’s leg as you sucked in breath after breath into your aching lungs. You knew there would probably be a hand-shaped bruise there tomorrow, but right now all you could focus on was the quickly cooling mess in your pants.

“Quit yer bitchin’,” Logan responded, pulling you up with his hands under your armpits, “he’s fine,” he said as you fell forward into his lap, his softening cock rubbing messily into your shirt.

“M’fine, Scott,” you said to him, your voice rough and nearly unrecognizable, even to your own ears. “Will you get me a paper towel?” You asked as you let your head fall to Logan’s shoulder.

#x male reader #x male reader smut #logan howlett x male reader #logan howlett x male reader smut #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x male reader #wolverine x male reader smut #scott summers x male reader smut #scott summers x male reader #scott summers x reader #cyclops x male reader smut #cyclops x male reader #cyclops x reader

635 notes · View notes