#idk how to go about getting out of this state and far from it
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okay! enough despair (I hope) there’s not much to be done anyways other than crying some more (I’m tired of crying) or like focusing on what I can control (or at least try to)
#whimsy whispers#we will take baby steps and not put so much hope on things it’ll be fine (saying this I almost started crying again because I do no believe#that it will be fine)#I’ll get a job and save money then start taking ged study courses then I’ll get my ged#I’ll continue saving my money and contributing how I can and maybe the plans to live with kane and lex will work out#idk what to do from there#I suppose look into college classes even though I don’t entirely know what I want to do with my life#do I still want to be a librarian am I even smart enough for that? probably not#idk how to go about getting out of this state and far from it#I want to live far away and I want to be secure and I don’t want to be alone#but there’s no one to live with if I move far away#because everyone already has plans and most of them involve staying here and I just can’t do that I cannot live here for the rest of my life#I don’t want to be alone either but maybe I’ll just have to be#idk where to even like go that’s far from here the plans I had fell through and that simply can’t be helped and it was dumb of me to hold#onto the plans as tightly as I did because nothing is set in stone#I’ll think about all this when I get there I suppose like rn I just need to take baby steps i guess#I am trying so hard not to start crying again because i need to eat dinner and I don’t want people to ask why I’ve been crying
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Actually, on the topic of the baby fever. God it's so frustrating. Bc when I was like 14 ish I was Adamant that I never ever wanted kids. And my dad said smth around the lines of "that'll likely change" (probably from his own experience with this) and I was like NO. it WONT.
And then eventually, age 21-22 ish, I admitted that Okay, I still don't want to have my own kids, but someday maybe I'll adopt...
And Now, 27 years old, I got the general baby fever on occasion. It Did fucking change. And I don't know if I actually WILL bother with having my own kid (I still don't want to go through the hassle and massive body changes). But god. I do see a fucking baby and feel that stab of longing. It's almost like my damned hormones betrayed me or smth. Maddening!
I shall simply write fanfic about it.
#speculation nation#pregnancy ment/#honestly though i hadnt felt the wish to have my own until after my dad died#and i realized just how small our family is getting. and just felt this stab of NEED. to continue the line. continue the family.#my family's fucking dying around me i need to add to it. need more family. yknow?#so i dont actually know if this is. because of hormones or because of grief or What#but it was enough for me to put the hysterectomy idea on hold. bc id been genuinely considering it back in like. april? or so.#but then this happened and now im like. fuck dude. i dont know. but the uncertainty's enough to keep me from doing it.#yeah i dont wanna deal with periods anymore. but also. i need more time to decide.#i think no matter what i do want to raise kids someday. once im more stable (financially and emotionally)#but whether thats adoption or putting myself thru fuckin body torture. well i'll just have to decide. later.#maybe the deciding factor will be my own body aging lol. if i wait too long. my body will decide for me. who knows!#i Have thought about what id do if i got accidentally pregnant. especially relevant back when i was sleeping with a trans woman#and used to be id abort no hesitation. but well. i mean abortions illegal here anyways rn so id have to go to another state#but if i decided it i could make it work. it's not That far of a trip.#but. when i thought about it. the concern was less about the theoretical baby. and more about finishing school.#thinking 'man itd be fucking awful to finish school if i got pregnant right now'. but not. hesitating over the baby.#if i was out of school and relatively stable and i got accidentally pregnant. then. well. Maybe.#so me doing my dad vash au where he gets accidentally pregnant and goes all in with it#thats me. sorting out my feelings on it i guess. putting them somewhere.#idk. it's a lot to think about. i dont want to condemn a child to my genetic problems. but at the same time...#i dont know. To Be Decided Later.
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i lost the post but i saw someone talking about how some of y’all act like being weird is a choice and like. YEAHHHHHHH.
that’s fine, it might be for you. but i just live like this and don’t know any other way. like yeah i’ve worked customer service, i can do innocuous small talk, but anything beyond that, i don’t understand what i’m missing. and it’s frustrating to see the tonal disconnect especially from people who are like “uwu embrace weirdness!!” where they’re like. dressing quirky and talking about bugs and listening to obscure music and eschewing small talk to ask Deep Questions on the first date and unlearning their tendency to not infodump. and generally have an idea of what Weirdness is supposed to look like. idk man some of us wake up and get out of bed and can’t figure out why the rest of their coworkers chitchat with each other but when they join the conversation it dies.
weirdness is value neutral. let’s stop trying to turn it into a badge because quite frankly, it’s not a choice for everyone. it’s fucking exhausting to never be on the same wavelength as other people and they’re going to react the way they do and label you the way they will without any conscious actions on your end. it’s difficult to talk about this without feeling like you’ll be dismissed as immature, a teenager whining “no one understands me” but the thing is. sometimes you don’t grow out of feeling alone and different, and there’s no good way to talk about it without feeling like people will think you’re just fishing for pity.
#most of it is stuff i can’t help like!!!#coworkers and i don’t share a lot of interests so i’m always like. yes i’ve heard of that show but haven’t seen it. no idk that band sorry#and they’ll like. talk shit abt other people who share my interests without realizing that i also like those things#so i just have to sit there and take it#i feel like i don’t have a lot in common with my friends even. a few shared interests but very different lives#in my experience the conscious choice has been to try to keep up with what’s popular but it’s just. not interesting to me#i got bored and forgot to finish s2 of stranger things and never picked it back up#even alt subcultures have gone kinda mainstream and i never quite slot in#let’s not even touch the gay culture ‘flags’ that are extremely online and unrelatablr#and the most frustrating thing. every time i try to talk about myself and my interests i feel people shutting down#one person i know. open mouth sighs in exasperation when i open my mouth#i don’t know why you’re making it my problem that we’re different#i know there is supposed to be a niche out there for everyone but some of that feels like#those niches are falling prey to marketability. if you’re too far out of the mainstream. too out of touch. it can’t be helped#a lot of messaging online is like. embrace weirdness but only if it’s subversive in a very specific way#too normal to hang out with self-proclaimed proud weirdos. too weird to hang out with normies#like i thought the thing was to disavow performativity. i’m sorry i don’t find the same things interesting#i don’t care about the office and you don’t care about the hundred years’ war. that’s fine. why is that seen as a personal fault of mine#i feel like some of the reaction i get might be bc it comes across as hipster shit. idk#i’m literally just oblivious and looking for any kind of indicator for social interaction#but so often it feels like the onus of finding common ground is on me. i have to listen abt things idk but no one cares what i have to say#i think what makes it more frustrating is this reaction from people who claim to not care. do their own thing#and then get annoyed when i do mine and it’s. different#instead of being like ‘fuck the mainstream! conformity is bullshit! be yourself!’ it’s like#‘fuck the mainstream because it doesn’t appeal to me personally and i’ve made my own club!’#and this is not going to come out right because i’m just at my limit and venting and don’t know how to say things the right way#so people don’t misunderstand me#i just happen to never like the Right Things and know the Right Things and act the Right Way and idk how else to say it other than#can we be more normal about weird people#idk it’s hard to talk abt this without sounding like i’m just complaining but i’m more bewildered and trying to state things as i see them
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dark chocolate cherry
i want to bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses. i want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.
or; your boyfriend shows up when you just want some alone time [3.2k]
jason todd x fem!reader; reader gets her period and describes painful symptoms; just fluff; jason "words don't come easy so here's acts of service" todd this is supposed to be earlier in the relationship which is why he's still a little shy but i think she knows he's red hood? idk man. i was just going with it; can you guess what inspired this? (everything is awful) and this is like…not that good
The day started at 2 AM when you woke to shooting pains in your abdomen and blood everywhere. It continued until 2:45 while you cleaned yourself, changed clothes, put on a fresh pad, took some painkillers, and changed the sheets. It paused for about an hour until you woke up again at 4:00, courtesy of Gotham’s patented night-life that had taught you to completely tune out the sound of police sirens. Tonight, however, they weren’t tuning out.
The sirens quieted at 4:10, by which angry tears collected in the corners of your eyes as you flopped around in bed in an attempt to get comfortable. No matter what you did, there was always something wrong; the pillow was too hard, the blanket was too scratchy, the position hurt your arm.
From 4:11 to 4:12, you screamed into your pillow.
By 4:15 you had settled in front of the TV with a bowl of dry cereal (it took everything in you not to cry over the lack of milk in your fridge), a heating pad, and your favorite comfort show queued up.
At 8 AM you managed to drag yourself to work, where you half-assed the day’s tasks, took a 15-minute break to cry in your car, then dipped out a half-hour early.
Now, at 5 PM on a Friday evening, you’re curled into the fetal position in front of your TV with your comfort show resumed and your trusty heating pad cranked to the highest setting. Prepared to spend the entire night here, you already changed into pajamas and kept a couple blankets within reach. Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, and you stretch to reach it, careful not to lose your comfortable position or roll off the couch.
Jason About to leave Be there in 20
You groan out loud. You want to throw your phone across the room, but decide against it because no amount of hormones from hell are worth six hundred dollars. You’re still angry, though, for being so stupid as to forget about the date you had planned for tonight. Scrolling up to earlier messages, you see another text from today wishing you a good morning and telling you he was excited to see you tonight. But, too down to bother checking any messages today, you had missed it.
You I can’t tonight anymore I’m sorry I don’t feel great
After hitting send, you place your phone on the ground, not even having the energy to reach for the coffee table again. Or the energy to lift your arm back up, apparently, given how it hangs limply over the edge of the couch. You feel guilty about cancelling, but you are in no state to go out tonight. You’re used to the symptoms of your period hitting so hard. As much as you and Jason care about each other, you’re not sure you’re ready for him to see you like this. You’ve managed to plan your relationship around your hormone cycle so far, but today it came early.
Your phone’s buzzing is muffled by the rug, and you almost don’t hear it. Jason’s photo is displayed on the screen.
Your hanging hand clicks ‘answer’ and puts it on speaker so you can take the call without moving from how you're curled up.
“Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m fine, I just don’t feel up for going out tonight. I’d rather stay home.”
“Did something happen?”
“No, I just got my period so I’m not really in the mood.”
“Okay, we can stay in tonight. What do you feel like eating? I can pick something up.”
“No, Jason…I want to stay home alone tonight.”
There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the line.
“Okay…did I do something?” His voice comes out a little smaller.
“No, you’re fine, I promise. I just don’t feel like seeing anyone right now.”
“…Not even me?”
Your hand presses against your temples to soothe the building tension headache. The self-doubt in his tone brings the anguish of the entire day bubbling up your throat. You feel like the worst person in the world. Exactly how you don’t want him to see you.
“Jason…it’s not you. I just…I feel like shit right now, honestly. Everything hurts, I’m miserable and sad and angry at everything, I’m breaking out all over.” You feel yourself welling up at all these little stresses coming out. “I’m craving everything but feel too sick to eat anything…I feel pretty disgusting right now, and frankly, I don’t want you to see me like this.” You finish your rant with a sniffle. You wipe your nose, trying to hold back the sob that’s threatening to break through. But at his silence, your worst, most improbable fears claw their way to the surface: he hates you now. You scared him away. You exhale heavily into your sleeve as more tears spill.
The phone is quiet for a long moment. Then; “I could never find you disgusting,” he says, gently. “But if that’s what you want, then we’ll reschedule.”
“Thank you. And sorry.”
He speaks with a tone you can’t quite parse. “Don’t apologize. Just feel better.”
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It’s one hour after your phone call, and at the first knock, you know who it is. Who else could it be? With that soft, somewhat hesitant, one-knuckle rap on the door. Only one person knocks on your door like that.
“Jason, I told you not to come here,” you say a little more cutting than you intend to, but your back and shoulders feel like they’re about to snap under a phantom pressure and the frustration of your request being outright ignored leaves a burning bitterness that channels itself into a violent wrenching open of the door.
He jumps a little at the abruptness of your greeting. One look at your face and he visibly deflates.
“I’m sorry…I know you said not to come, but…” his gaze casts downward to his hands. You follow; he’s clutching a reusable grocery bag. Peeking out of the top is a gallon of Neapolitan ice cream. The ice cream carton’s condensation seeped through a small patch of the cloth bag and dripped onto the other items; a bushel of greens, among some other fruits and vegetables, as well as a parcel of brown paper that was fastened closed with a twine string. You return your gaze to his face.
“I think—” he cuts himself off, free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Then he drops his hand and sighs. “I’m sorry. This was a bad idea. You told me not to come here and I ignored you, but I thought…” he trails off, probably hoping you’ll say something so he can gauge your reaction.
You just stare at him.
He shifts his weight back and forth. His hand twitches.
“Okay, yeah, I’ll—”
Then, you burst into tears.
Jason’s eyes widen. He reaches out to touch you, then stops himself. “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, this was stupid. Please stop crying, I’m so sorry—” He’s panicked, trying to calm you down with apologies and soothing assurances that he will leave immediately and never go against your wishes again. All the while you stand in the doorway, blubbering like a toddler with a skinned knee, new tears forming faster than you can wipe the old ones away.
He once again raises a hand towards you, before it stutters, then clenches into a fist as if it takes all his strength to fight against the instinct to be close to you, fighting against the string that tethers him to you. He drags his hand down his face, then it falls back to his side.
“Okay, I—I’m leaving now. I’m leaving. Do you…want this?” He holds the bag out to you.
With it now in front of you, its further contents are visible. You manage to tamp down your tears enough to get a few words out.
“Did you—hic—buy me groceries?”
“Yeah…” There’s a wince in his tone, as if he’s only now realizing that his gesture is not translating as he intended.
You look back up at him with pursed lips and knitted brows, sniffling. Sure, the ice cream you can understand, but…you have no idea what to make of the rest.
The bag drops back to his side. “I figured…it’s just— it’s the stuff that you’re supposed to—” He strokes his palm over his mouth, eyes screwing shut for a moment. He huffs at himself, then continues. “I mean I’m sure you already know all of this, so maybe you already have all these things, and now I’m realizing how unnecessary all this was, and I shouldn’t have assumed—”
“Jason,” you say. Your upset has since been overshadowed by something else, though you can’t tell what it is. And your crying has stopped, but its lingering effects have you feeling congested and a little foggy. You’re half expecting this to be a fever dream that you’re moments away from waking up from in a cold sweat.
“—because obviously you know what helps you feel better much more than I do—”
“Jason.”
“And you— yeah?” His eyes are a little harried when they find yours again. But off your tired and still-confused look, he gets the message and collects himself.
“Right, yeah, I just thought that…maybe I could bring you some of the stuff with all those minerals that are supposed to help women when they’re…menstruating.” He briefly breaks eye contact at the end of his sentence, red rouge creeping up his neck.
You can’t help it; you start to giggle. You can’t remember the last time you heard a man use the term ‘menstruating’ in a non-medical context. And the fact that he’s so shy about it— upset as you may be (though not at him), there’s no denying how adorable your boyfriend is. His head shoots back to you as your laughter intensifies. He blushes harder.
“It’s not that funny,” he mutters.
You step away from the door, finally closing the space between you, and wrap your arms around his torso. Your head nestles into his chest. He gently drops the grocery bag on the ground and reciprocates your hug. He rests his chin on your head, which fits perfectly under his. Like two puzzle pieces clicking into place. You breathe him in.
“Sorry I’m such a mess,” you murmur into his shirt.
He breathes into your hair. “You have nothing to apologize for. And you’re not a mess.”
You look up, chin resting in the space between his collarbones. He looks down at you with a small smile, but some wariness is still etched into his features. Fear of unwittingly upsetting you again. He brings up a hand to push some hair out of your face and tuck it behind your ear. His hand remains there, toying with the hair that falls below your shoulder.
"Thank you for the food,” you whisper. The moment feels too intimate to speak any other way.
“I’m sorry for not listening to you. I just…” He imitates your quietness, like his admission is also too vulnerable to say loudly. “I really wanted to see you. And I hated the idea of you feeling bad about yourself, or being in pain. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Your eyes feel wet again. The first instinct is to hide your face, maybe press it to his chest once more. But, for some reason, you don’t. You want him to see you like this, messy and emotional and upset. You want him to see every part of you, and you want to see every part of him, the good and the bad.
“You didn’t.” A tear slips past the effort to keep it at bay. He shows no reaction to it, eyes never leaving yours, other than a quick swiping away with his thumb. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before. That’s why I was crying. Not because you showed up.”
“That doesn’t seem right. This is nothing. You deserve even more.”
With no words to fully, adequately communicate the blooming in your chest, you stand on your toes, reaching up to him for a kiss. But given his stature, your lips only reach his chin and brush over its underside.
At your quiet whine, he chuckles and leans down to meet you in the middle. The kiss is soft; filled with the innocence of fresh blossoms in the spring, and the sweetness of its borne fruit.
You pull away when a vicious cramp roots you back to the present. Your limps tighten around Jason with a groan.
“I need to go back inside. I’ve been away from my heating pad for too long.”
His shoulders sag when you step away from him. “Oh, um…do you still…want me to leave?”
With a simple exhale of humorous disbelief, you grasp his hand in yours and tug him to your front door. He’s like an excited puppy, eyes brightened and perking up as he grabs the grocery bag and happily trails after you.
He goes straight to the kitchen, pulling out a chair at the counter for you to settle into, then sets the bag on the counter. The ice cream carton has dampened most of the cloth by now, and likely the rest of its contents, but rather than attending to the groceries, his first action is retrieving your heating pad from where it rests on the couch. He unplugs it from the wall outlet and brings it to you. You curl up on the chair with it pressed flat against your lower stomach. It only takes a minute for the pressure in your hips to abate.
Then he moves to the groceries. The ice cream immediately goes in the freezer, and he unloads what’s remaining onto the counter, one by one, and you take note of each item. There’s spinach, carrots, apples, oranges, dark chocolate, some kind of meat wrapped in brown paper, and, strangely enough, an entire block of cheese.
You give him a quizzical look, picking it up to read the label. “You got me…cheddar cheese?”
He retrieves a cutting board and knife from its spot next to the sink, then takes the cheese from you. “Good for certain symptoms.” He slices open the plastic wrapping and cuts out some cubes with skilled efficiency. He does the same with an apple. “They all are,” he says, referring to his entire haul. He completes the makeshift charcuterie board with a couple squares of dark chocolate and slides it across the counter.
You look down at the cutting board, thinking about everything he’s done for you; everything you never even had to ask for. The words sit on your tongue, encaged by your clenched teeth; an admission that coils itself around your spine and squeezes tight, restricts your breathing and pumps your heart at thrice its speed. But you feel yourself welling up again, and the first bout of tears already exhausted you so much that all you can manage is, “I don’t know what to do with all this. I don’t have the energy to make anything good.”
But he just smiles and says, “That’s what I’m here for, honey. Can I make you something?”
You nod. He gets to work. The immediacy of his actions, how he takes no time to decide on a dish or find a recipe, makes you think his previously stated intentions of ‘just dropping this off’ were less genuine than he lead you to believe. Nevertheless, you munch on the snacks he laid out for you and watch him work. The cheese and apples are a surprisingly cohesive combination, the meshing of sweet crispiness and savory creaminess eliciting a contented sigh from you. You try to ignore the way Jason smirks in the corner of your periphery. The chocolate is incredible, yet unfamiliar. You read the label on the packaging: 80% Dark Chocolate with Cherry and Almond Filling. Even if you hadn’t tasted it yet, the quality of the packaging itself would have been enough to let you know that this chocolate is extremely high-quality. Like, special-order-from-Europe quality. Not stop-at-the-grocery-store-on-the-way-home quality.
“Where is this from? Did you buy this today?” You ask him through a mouthful of the rich, melting chocolate.
He doesn’t look up from the carrots he’s dicing. “Uh…no.”
Anyone else would attribute his avoidance of eye-contact to standard kitchen-knife caution. You are not anyone else. You could blindfold him, spin him around ten times, put a sharp knife in his hand, and he could still pull off a perfect julienne. You look closer. His cheeks are dusted with pink.
You let out a laugh. “Jason, you’re not embarrassed about liking fancy chocolate, are you?”
“No! Not at all,” he says, ceasing his chopping. He looks up, but not quite at you.
“Then?”
“‘Then’ what?” He asks.
“Then why are you being so shifty right now?” You try to catch his gaze.
“I’m not!” He defends. “It’s just chocolate! Do you like it? I’ll bring you more.” He’s stealthy with the way he avoids your eyes; you almost can’t notice how hard he’s trying not to make eye contact.
“Jason!” You reach across the counter, having to rise off the chair slightly, and take his face in your hands, making him look at you. When he does, he wears a sheepish smile.
“It’s…” His removes your hands from his face, holding them in his. He mumbles something, turning his head to the side. But you catch the tail end of it, a goading grin already creeping up your face.
“What was that?” You tilt your ear towards him, exaggerating the action.
“It’s Bruce’s.” He, in turn, exaggerates the enunciation, rolling his eyes at your simpering. “I…found it. In his pantry one day. And I liked it, so I took it. And then I…kept taking it. Every time I visited.”
You pout teasingly. “And you’re ashamed to admit that you think he has good taste in something?”
He doesn’t say anything, only hiding his face in his shoulder. You pull on your intertwined hands and he gets the message, skirting around the kitchen counter to come closer.
“You are so adorable, you know that?” You say. You reach up and pinch his cheeks. He swats your hands away, but there’s no mistaking his broad, childish grin for anything but affection.
He breaks off another square from the chocolate bar and holds it to your lips. You bite off a small portion, then push it back to him. He takes the remaining piece in his mouth and his eyes close for a brief moment as he savors the sweet, tart, and nutty flavors. You simply watch, entranced by him. Then, he kisses you. You lean into it, hands sliding up his shirt to grip the fabric and bring him even closer. His hold finds your waist.
He tastes like cherries and dark chocolate.
He breaks the kiss to rest his forehead on yours, and you want to tell him that. That, and so much more. But from the look on his face, the way his eyes find yours and the tips of his ears have a similar heat to the one in your chest, you can tell he already knows.
when it comes to jason's post-pit-repressed-teenager characterization (aka despite being older he's still as inexperienced and confused and insecure about the world outside of vigilantism and w/ women as a 15 y/o would be) (aka my favorite characterization tee hee), i think that he's mature about periods, knows they're normal and not gross or shameful etc, but still gets shy about saying the actual word, for no other reason than the 'shy around women' part always makes me giggle
also bruce is keeping the chocolate stocked specifically because he knows jason likes it and will keep taking it because he loves his son even if his son doesn't love him (he does he's just in his angsty teen 'i hate this family you don't understand me' phase rn)
divider is from here
quote at the beginning is pablo neruda <3
#more of my jason todd domesticity agenda#batman#red hood#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#batfamily#dc universe#dc comics#dcu#dc robin#robin#dick grayson#bruce wayne#damian wayne#tim drake#nightwing#red robin#red hood x reader#batfam#robin jason todd
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Mama, I’m in love with a criminal
Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, no curse au, dead dove, violence described including murder, dark romance, use of y/n, descriptions of mental illness.
Synopsis: Sukuna’s talking to his therapist in jail about you. He’s incarcerated because of you, and his obsession is concerning.
An: Yeah idk i thought of this while I was driving to work one morning.
Session one. | Session two.
His large frame laid lazily over the couch, clad in an orange jumpsuit. He had his feet propped up on one side, and his head was propped up on the other side in a far too casual manner. His naturally pink hair pushed up near the front, messily so.
He was still cuffed and shackled, but the therapist was still afraid of him. To the therapist’s credit, he had read the warrant that went into viscous detail of Sukuna’s crimes.
Normally, the therapist wouldn’t read the inmates warrants due to situations like these. He liked going into sessions with an open mind, but he had gotten warnings about Sukuna… how the man can fly into a blind rage like a switch on the wall.
He was brutal, unforgivable, inhumane.
Simple counseling wasn’t going to “fix” a broken human like Sukuna. The therapist knew this, but the state mandated that Sukuna undergo weekly counseling sessions per his sentence.
Sukuna could taste the therapist’s fear, and he let out an earnest laugh. “You don’t even want to try to fix me, do you?” He asked tauntingly with a lopsided grin. “I don’t blame you. Don’t feel bad~”
The therapist swallowed the lump in his throat, and he adjusted in his seat. “I can’t fix anyone… Counseling isn’t about fixing.. It’s about moving forward and learning how to live.”
“Bullshit.” Sukuna spits with shrug. “Counseling is about focusing on the past and letting shit hang you up for far too long. I guarantee you that you’re going to ask me about how I got here, is that right?”
The therapist is shaking like a leaf at this point. “Our past can help us navigate to a better future.” He murmured out weakly.
Sukuna roars in laughter, causing the therapist to nearly jump out of his seat. The pink-haired felon doubles over as he laughs hysterically. “You’re a funny guy. Fine. You really want to know how I got here? I’ll tell you.”
After a deep breath and wiping away a fake tear, Sukuna goes on, “You know, teachers always believe that pairing the troubled kids up with the good kids will inspire them to act right. That shit never works.”
“I think that’s when my ‘type’ developed. My bitch of a second-grade teacher assigned me to sit next to this frail meek girl after I got in trouble one too many times for terrorizing the other kids. She was a real stick in the mud.” Sukuna laughs fondly, a rare genuine smile on his face.
“Y/n?” The therapist asks, remembering your name from the warrants.
Sukuna’s red eyes snap over to the therapist with an almost predatory gaze. His hands visibly curl into fists. “Say her name again, and I’ll splatter your blood all over this room. The officers won’t be able to pry me from you, deeming you to be a lost cause.”
The therapist freezes as the breath hitches in his throat. His eyes dart toward his panic button, knowing he should probably press it now, but he’s frozen in fear.
“We’ll call her mouse.” Sukuna goes on as if he didn’t just threaten the poor guy’s life in brutal detail.
“Mouse was a real challenge. I for some reason made it my mission to get her to talk to me, but she always stayed silent — only answering me with simple head gestures.” He laughs again, lying his head back further as he’s replaying the memories in his mind. He can remember you vividly and how you looked back then. He yearns for that feeling again. The feeling of seeing you for the first time.
“I can’t exactly tell you when the challenge started to border obsession, but she slowly slithered her way into my brain. Even when I wasn’t in school, I thought about her. I wondered what she sounded like, wondered why she wouldn’t talk to me, wondered why she looked at me like that.”
The therapist furrows his eyebrows. Even though he doesn’t feel safe in this session, and he doesn’t trust Sukuna at all, he has a hunger for knowledge, and he loves solving things that have to do with the human psyche.
“Looked at you like what?” The therapist dared to ask.
Sukuna stayed silent for a moment, and he tapped his finger against the back of his hand. His face hardened as he found the words he was looking for. “She looked at me like she had no preconceived notion of me. Her eyes… were so big and round. Even though she didn’t talk to me, it was like she accepting of my presence.”
The shackles jingled as Sukuna rubbed his face in a stressed gesture. Remembering you was like a double edged sword. He loved thinking about you, but he hated being reminded that he was without you.
The therapist eased in his chair. There was actual emotions underneath all those tattoos, thick skin, and muscle. The media had portrayed Sukuna as a complete narcissistic sociopath, but this was proof that diagnosis was false.
“I bothered the shit out of her for years, continually getting myself paired up with her.” Sukuna grinned, shifting the conversation back in a direction that he was more comfortable with, “I remember those asshole kids always called me her shadow because I followed her everywhere. Jokes on them.”
The therapist shivered as be remembered a chilling detail from the warrants. Each time a victim was found, a message was written in the victim’s blood.
-ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ
His victim’s - their deaths were like an homage to you.
“Were the kids ever… assholes to mouse?”
Sukuna’s jaw visibly tightened. He loathed this therapist’s questions… thinking he knew everything just because you and Sukuna were misunderstood kids.
“They called her weird for not talking.” Sukuna recalled as he bit his inner cheek. His eyes glared to the wall in front of him. “Now look at who can’t talk.”
Sukuna’s first victim. He didn’t start out with murder. He started out with stapling your bullies mouth shut for taunting you. Everything was for you. Everything.
He held a kid down to the teacher’s in third grade, grabbing a stapler, and he pressed it down one by one into the kids lips, binding them together. The kid couldn’t scream or cry for help, or else he’d risk ripping the flesh on his lips.
The teachers found the kid and immediately knew the only kid sadistic enough to go through with such an act was none other than Sukuna.
“Did mouse witness you do that?” The therapist asked, genuinely intrigued by Sukuna’s narrative. For being a ruthless criminal, he was a wonderful historian.
“No. Why would I scare her like that?” Sukuna’s voice was tense as he eyed the therapist carefully, as if he was waiting for him to say the wrong thing.
The therapist clicks his tongue in surprise, and he looks like a deer in headlights. “Scare? No.. no, I thought you’d maybe just show off what you did for her.”
“I’m not the type to show off.” Sukuna answers flatly, and the therapist wonders if that’s the first time Sukuna’s lied during this session. He knows that Sukuna likes to show off. The warrants prove it.
“Anyways, I wore her down over the years. She didn’t speak to me until we were in sixth grade.” An eerie smile curls on Sukuna’s lip. “I can still remember her first word to me and how she said it��”
The therapist leaned in, curiosity getting best of him.
Sukuna smirks, knowing he has the therapist interested now. “Her first word to me was a plea. A word to show her undeniable want. Her first word to me was please.”
Bang! Bang Bang!
The therapist literally flinches out of his chair from the heavy knocks at the door.
“Ryomen! Your time is up!” The officer yelled on the other side of the door.
“Pity. I was beginning to have fun.” Sukuna remarked as he stood up from the couch. The shackles jingled as he walked toward the door, and the door buzzed, letting him out. “See you next week, doc.”
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#fanfic#drabble#jjk sukuna#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#jujutsu sukuna#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#jjk ryomen#ryomen x reader#jujutsu kaisen ryomen#dark romance
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Too good
Pairing: Step Brother!Park Sunghoon x Reader
Description: Maybe the both of you are perverts but still, that doesn’t stop either of you.
Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, dry humping, begging, biting(?, dubcon, vouyerism, masturbation, unprotected sex, spanking, idk what else ngl.
The relationship between you and Sunghoon it’s…weird, to say the least, both of you met when your dad decided to marry his mother and that was seven years ago, both of you being angsty teens that barely talked to each other.
Years went by and the relationship between the two of you grew for the better, both of you being an only child, you grew fond of his company and him of yours, always thinking of places to go together, meeting the other’s friends, getting along very well.
One day though something shifted, it was one of those days that both of you told your parents that you were going to a sleepover but went to a party, entering you guy’s twenties, both wanted to go out and make out with some hot people, get wasted, take pics with your friends but something happened that changed your whole dynamic.
You can see the room spinning, barely being able to stand straight, you were laughing by yourself at how drunk you were, your friend Karina next to you noticed this, holding your arm to stop you from falling.
“Shit, girl, you’re drunk as fuck!”
The look on her face only made you giggle, grabbing her cheeks and squishing them, she couldn't help but laugh at your state, taking the cup from your hand she muttered something about getting you some water so you have to wait for her in your seat.
Looking around your eyes set on a specific sight, your step-brother, you don’t know if it was the alcohol rushing through your veins but there were unacceptable thoughts about him in your mind, shaking your head as if that is going to make you stop thinking all kinds of stuff with him.
Your breath hitches when you take notice of the girl he is talking to, small, curvy, red head, she was beautiful, no way of denying that. There’s this uncomfortable feeling in your chest, hurting you, still you don’t know what it is.
Not knowing how much time has passed, you see them both walking out the room, you don’t even know what possessed you when your legs stand up, walking down their trail.
Still very much wasted, it’s a complicated task when you follow them, almost falling several times and almost losing them as well.
Your body freezes when you see hee lead the way into a room, far away from the other people, noticing how you are the only person besides them in this hallway, what you failed to notice is how Sunghoon did see you, when you were staring at him before they even came this way, how rapidly you stood up and followed them and how you are looking at him right now.
He doesn’t know but the feeling of you following him is more exciting than the girl that is pulling him inside the room, one last look at your face and he steps inside.
He doesn’t close the door, slightly leaving it ajar, what he does is immediately turns the girl so that her back is facing the door.
Sunghoon lets her start kissing his neck, sliding her hands down his abdomen, he doesn’t feel anything, all he wants is for you to peek your head through the door.
Not even thinking, you do just that, peeping enough of your head to see what was happening in there.
You don’t expect to see Sunghoon staring back at you, waiting. Once the eye contact locks, he grabs the back of the girl's neck and pulls her closer to him, kissing her. What the girl didn’t notice is that Sunghoon’s eyes never left yours.
The girl pushes him so he falls into the bed, sitting on the edge.
You can hear the wet sounds of their lips moving together, you can only imagine how his lips will feel against yours, wanting nothing more than going inside and moving her aside.
She goes back to kissing his neck, slowly going down and down, finally settling in between his legs, he is manspreading on the bed, barely looking at the girl in front of her.
Your eyes move down, noticing the hands of the girl, they’re moving, working to take his pants off, nervously your vision moves back to his face, noticing the smirk on his lips, at a slow pace he brings his fingers to his lips, motioning for you to keep silent.
Right hand falls on top of your mouth, so as to prevent any sound.
Both of you are ignorant on how the girl has already taken off his pants and is already taking his hardening length out, a low groan coming out of Sunghoon’s throat is what brings you back to the scene playing in front of you.
Sunghoon’s eyes close briefly when she takes him down her throat, stroking with her hands what couldn’t fit on her mouth. He can’t deny that it feels good but it feels ten times better when he notices that your thighs are squeezing each other, showing that you are in fact, getting turned on by what is happening in front of you.
A quick glance at the one in between his legs and he just mutters something to her.
“Close your eyes.”
Without questioning, she does as she is told, Sunghoon is glad she listened, now he can turn his full attention to you, his little step-sister, rubbing her thighs together at the sight of him getting his dick sucked by some girl.
He choked a moan when you moved your free hand to grasp one of your breasts, squeezing it tightly, how he wished it were his hand in your chest. Everything just got harder for him when he picked out that your fingers are moving, twisting and pinching your nipple, throwing his head backwards, he pushed the girl farther down her throat without warning.
The choking sound makes your knees buckle, imagining it was you taking him down your mouth, his face comes back, eye contact continuing. Just when he thought he was in heaven at the sight of you, you dropped your hand, moving it under your skirt, placing it on top of your cunt.
Hips thrust into the girl’s mouth, your fingers circled your clitoris and you can feel your arousal through the fabric of your underwear, it grows when you hear Sunghoon’s moans and low groans.
It’s wrong, you both know it’s wrong, but you have never felt this hot for anyone before and you know he is also enjoying this, the way his hips stutter into the girls mouth while he looks at you like he wants to eat you, it has you throwing your morals out of the window.
Fingers going faster, you feel so close to cumming. He can’t tear his eyes off of you, loving the way you still have your mouth covered by your hand, how he can see your hand moving under the little skirt you have on, how your knees are almost giving up at how much pleasure you feel, he loves it, loves how you look.
He nods his head, as in asking you if you’re close, you nod rapidly, neck even hurting with how fast you do it, and you see it, he mouthed something for you, clearly seeing how his lips moved to tell you, ‘Cum for me’, not being able to contain it, you let go, cumming all over your fingers, eyes rolling backwards, grabbing into the wall next to you to not fall.
Chest breathing heavily, you look back at him, his forehead full with sweat, one hand on the back of the girl’s head and the other one behind his head, smirking widely at you.
“F-Fuck, cumming!”
And you swear it’s the hottest thing you have ever seen, one last thrust in her mouth, her coughing around him, and he is spilling out his seed on her mouth, eyes threatening to close but fighting it to keep contact with you, mouth making an ‘o’ with how intense his climax feels, one last groan and he lets the girl free.
You see her move, standing up to crawl over to his lap and it suddenly hits you, you need to leave, not even waiting to see what happens, you hurriedly tidy up yourself and run towards the closest bathroom.
Closing the door behind you, you put your back against it, sliding down to fall on the ground. You did not only just touch yourself at the sight of your step-brother getting a blowjob but you did in fact enjoy it.
Two weeks have passed since the incident happened and you still can’t talk to him, even looking at him is hard for you, so you have just been ignoring him, ignoring him at home, at the campus, his texts, calls, everything.
It’s still too fresh in your memory, too fresh, that it gets you to soiled your panties when you remember. You think, if only watching him felt this good, what would it feel like if you can actually experience it, but no, you can’t, that is wrong.
Too caught in your own bubble, you fail to notice that he won’t give up, he is just waiting for the perfect opportunity to get you, to have his hands all over you and to not let go and the day is coming closer than expected.
It was one night that you decided to sleep over at your friends house, not being able to breathe comfortably in your own home, you were about to walk out of your room when someone steps in, pushing back in.
“Wha-”
A large hand covers your mouth, stopping you. Eyes widened when you recognize him, Sunghoon is the one stopping you from going out. He is mad, you know he is, the look on his face, eyebrows frowning, eyes giving you a harsh look.
“Why are you avoiding me?”
Taking off his hand but now moving down to your neck, circle around it but not pressing down, just holding you so you look at him and don’t try to run away anymore.
“I-I’m no-”
“I’m not stupid Y/N.”
“Hoon…”
“Why are you avoiding me?”
He asks once again like he doesn’t know, the reason is obvious but both of you know that you guys want more and he seems to be wanting to get it. You try to move away from him but his grip on your throat hardens, gasping in surprise.
“Answer me.”
“Hoon! I-It was wrong.”
“But you liked it.”
“S-Still, that shouldn’t have h-happened.”
It’s like he didn’t hear your answer, instead he pushed in to kiss you, lips against yours with need, struggling for air when he does. He kisses you with force, forcing his tongue inside your mouth, exploring the walls of it, sucking on your own tongue and then biting down on your lips.
Your hands try to push him away but his strength is much stronger than you, barely even moving him. He only stops to gather air, not pulling too far from you, he grabs both your wrists in one hand and brings the other one to squeeze you cheeks together.
“We both want this, don’t fight it.”
You know you want it, you also know it is wrong. Barely putting on a fight when he kisses you again, he notices this and drops his hand from your face down to your chest, groping your tit with force, back arching into his touch.
Without complications he moves your body so that you sit down on your desk, he places himself in between your legs, spreading them open.
“Sunghoon-”
“Shhh.”
Leaning closer, he locks his lips into your neck, biting it and kissing it, leaving marks and wet kisses all over it, you whine when you feel him making a hickey on it, knowing it’s a visible place and if someone notices it, you will have no explanation.
“Hoon!”
Frustration is clearly on his face, when he looks at you, waiting for you to talk, clearly annoyed that you interrupted him, you huffed in perplexion, not believing him, one more push at his chest and you say.
“T-That’s enough…”
“…No, it isn’t, I want you.”
Your eyes widen even more when you feel his hips rolling, in surprise you open your mouth because of the feeling, his hard on, grinding against your core. Blushing you bring your hands to push him once more but you fail, he grabs both your hands and brings them to his chest, trapping them.
His hips never stop, grinding harder against you. You choke when you feel his fingers thrust into your mouth, long and slim they hit past your tonsils, nonetheless you wrap your tongue around them, sucking on them subconsciously.
“F-Fuck…I thought you didn’t wanted this.”
Quickly you shake your head, not sure what exactly you are saying no to. He lets go of your body, hurriedly directing his hands towards his belt, taking it off. Your body shaking at his early ministrations, you only observe him, almost as if you’re waiting for his next step.
Once the belt is fully out, he returns his attention to you, admiring your spread body waiting for him, he moves you into your feet and in a flash he turns you around, grabbing your arms behind your back and tying the belt around both your wrists, your head flies back, panicking.
“W-Wait, no-”
One hand pushes your chest into the desk, bending over for him, not even being able to stop him and deep down, you don’t want to. He tugs your shorts down, revealing your soaked underwear, his hand kneads at the flesh of your butt prior to slapping the same skin, not expecting the smack you whine out but he only chuckles.
Doing it again and again until he hears your cries, telling him to stop, feeling a bit generous he soothes down your reddening skin, shushing you down.
“You don’t like it when I spank you? Hmm?”
“N-No…”
“You sure? Your wet panties say otherwise.”
In cue you feel his fingers tease the entrance of your hole through the panties, moving his fingers in circles, you try to take a hold of his hand but he only slaps them away, telling you in a low voice.
“You’re going to enjoy this, relax baby sis.”
Gagging your cries when he calls you that name, he pushes the fabric between your legs to the side, you can hear him hiss when he looks directly at your pussy, feeling shy you try to close your legs but a harsh spank on your thighs makes you cease your movements.
You feel him part for a second, you hear shuffles behind you and then something drops. With your current positions, it is hard to turn around but you catch a glimpse and you see that Sunghoon has taken off his jeans, leaving him only in boxers. You didn’t mean to stare yet your eyes move downwards, scared when you notice how big his bulge looks, not remembering clearly from that night how big it is.
He presses back on you, his hard dick directly pressed against your hole, both of you moaning at the feeling, his hips thrust in, making your body shift forward into the desk. Sunghoon doesn’t stop, he never does, humping and rubbing all over your core, each thrust you swear it feels harder and deeper than the last one, making a pool in between your legs and all over Sunghoon’s boxers, leaving a wet patch.
“Hoonie, p-please, this isn’t right!”
“It wasn’t right when you played with your pussy at the sight of your step bro getting sucked by someone else, right? But you didn’t stop.”
Hips still moving, sharp and forceful thrust being delivered by him. You feel extremely embarrassed, still you feel the arousal drop from the entrance of your hole, the burn that the fabric of his underwear gives you every time he grinds into you has you feeling undeniably good.
Your face feels hot, sweat dripping down your forehead, eyes watering, threatening to spill tears.
Sunghoon feels feral, hips grinding upwards into rubbing himself against your folds, he feels extremely sensitive, the harsh fabric of his boxers getting wet with your juices and his pre-cum, making a mess. His mouth falls open, letting out a groan, he had dreamed about this, about you, the sensation of your body pressed like this against him is better than everything that he had wished for, he feels in ecstasy.
He can already feel his climas coming closer and closer with each hip movement, he leans over to come closer to your nape, lips caressing your skin, you can feel his hot breath and the back of your neck, sending shudders over your skin, leaving a wet trail on your skin he reaches your ear and whispers.
“Y-You love this, don’t you? We both do, baby, let’s just enjoy it.”
He yanks you to meet your back with his chest, wrapping his forearm around your neck, keeping you in place. Sunghoon stops his thrust for a second to pull his length out of the last layer of clothes. A loud whine leaves your lips when you feel him directly, his tip pressed straight into your clitoris, his free hand proceeds to smear his semen all over it, making it all sticky.
Teasing you a bit more, just making you lose your mind you give up and just beg for him.
“P-Please…!”
“Hmm? What was that baby?”
“Please, just put it in…”
Turning your head around, the stretch of the muscles in your neck hurting but soon forgotten when he connects your lips to his, once more, distracting you from when he pushes his dick inside of you. Gasping into the kiss when he bottoms into you, tip caressing your cervix.
Barely even being able to correspond to his lips at his size.
“F-Fuck, you! So big!”
Sunghoon just chuckles, fucking into you harder, deeper, desperate for release. He knew you would feel this good, waiting for you for years, no other girl could even compare to your looks, and after finally getting a taste of you? He is never going to let you go. The girl at the party, he used her just so that you would finally cave, sending her off somewhere after you left the show, closing the door when she left so he could finally release himself, fucking his hand at the thought of how you looked while touching yourself to him, cumming hard wishing he was cumming deep into your pussy.
Now he can do it, fulfill his wish.
Every ram of his hips has you shoving into the desk, nails digging into your palms, wrists hurting from the restriction. Your head drops lowers, mouth instinctively biting into Sunghoon’s arm, preventing loud moans slipping your lips. The sinking of your teeth has Sunghoon hissing in pain, hips stuttering unexpectedly, dick twitching with pleasure.
“Next time, you’ll bite my neck sissy.”
Just whining into his skin, knowing that if you let go you will scream at how harsh his hips move into you, mind not processing how he said next time. His relentless pounding just gets more and more strong when he feels close to cum, fingertips teasing your swollen clit, forcing a loud noise out of you, biting deeper into him.
“If you want to cum, you have to ask me for permission baby.”
Your eyelids scrunch in frustration, the whole situation has you feeling embarrassed and needy, with how dumb he is fucking you, you really don’t longed care. Detaching your mouth, you turn to look at him, eyes looking up at him, he looks like a mess, sweat dripping down his skin, eyebrows frowing, his lips covered in bites from when he tries to drown out the noise.
“Please…can I?”
“C-Can you what?”
“Can I cum, please? Hoonie?”
Maybe both of you are crazy, being so into this, the nickname that you have always called him feels so dirty in this situation, just makes him twitch inside you, thrust erratic and going in no pace, just trying to get you both to cum, fingers faster, biting down your neck.
Your body trembles, your walls clench around him, head throws backwards directly falling into his shoulder. He lets go of your neck, mouth hanging open, breathing hard, one last ram into you, balls hitting your clit, and you both cum, his thick ropes spilling right into your womb and your juices dripping around him.
Sunghoon thrusts lazily, extending the delicious feeling of release for both of you. He stays inside, waiting for both of you to recover.
Wincing when he slips out, the white ropes dripping down your legs. He frees your arms, turning you around to sit down on him on your chair, he brings your wrist to his lips, kissing gently the red marks, so gently that it almost makes you forget what just happened.
Your eyelids are slowly closing, feeling tired and sore all over, the last thing you remember is him telling to sleep, that he would clean you all up before you doze off on his lap.
Once you wake up you would worry about the consequences.
#enha smut#enhypen#enhypen smut#enhypen x reader#enhypen x female reader#park sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon smut#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon smut#park sunghoon#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts
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Lover’s Rock~ S. Reid
Spencer Reid x Fem Reader
Summary: Spencer isn’t the only one that stands out in the crowd, but maybe that’s a good thing, because that’s what leads him to you.
Warnings: I didn’t really proof read, I’ll do it later lol. 18+ content towards the end. Um Reid is such a dweeb and adorable???? Fluff, mentions of alcohol and embarrassment. Reader is so twee (can we bring twee back or no?) idk she makes questionable fashion choices.
Really, this wasn’t your thing.
The bar scene, the club dresses all the girls where, the high heels and the whole game of cat and mouse that all the guys want to play. But you’re here, you made an effort to appease your best friends who claim you have no social life.
The entire night so far, they watched you strike out with the guys they motioned over because in their mind, you’re desperate and lonely and lame.
Okay, maybe that’s more of your headspace than theirs, but they’ve been offering you pity glances this whole time.
You’ve made a decision a while ago that maybe there was no romance out there for you. You were just born with some aspect that made normal, sane guys physically run away, and maybe that’s fine. You were really good on your own. And it never did feel right when you had a guy, if it didn’t feel like the movies, it wasn’t worth it.
Right?
Okay, maybe you should settle, at some point, you’ll be too old to marry and you’ll just keep working, with no real life and take care of Shelly, your goldfish. Maybe it won’t be perfect, but it’ll be someone to share things with.
You let out a huff and watch the ice melt in your drink, not bothering to smile when your friend tells you to brighten up.
Normally, you’re a ray of sunshine, but something about getting rejected four consecutive times is raining on your parade.
An entire bar full of happy people in their element, and it’s just you, sticking out like a sore thumb, especially when your friends go dance with a few guys they hit it off with.
Too busy looking at the buckle on the ankle strap of your heel, you are sinking somewhere in your mind, to a place where you aren’t listening to cheap song lyrics of and realizing that table is stickier than you thought.
“Where’s Reid?”
“Reid.”
“Spencer!” Penelope smacks his shoulder, pulling him from the trance of his eyes on the book pages.
He looks up from the corner booth, seeing his team has returned with drinks.
“Are you seriously reading right now?” Morgan criticizes, placing a beer in front of the younger agent.
Spencer doesn’t know why he does this, beer tastes like a plowed hay field in his opinion. But he takes the drink in gratitude and before he can explain that he was just trying to finish the Russian publishing of ‘Crime and Punishment’, Morgan rips the book from his hands and tosses it to Emily for safe keeping.
“I- what was that for?” Spencer questions with a unjust squeak, feeling rather sad.
“Look around, kid, do you see how many fine ladies are here? You don’t need to be sitting here with your nose between the pages of Little Women.” Morgan states as a matter of fact.
“Yeah, nobody puts baby in the corner.” Penelope agrees.
With an airy scoff, Spencer looks to the other members for help, but they all seem to side with Derek.
He gains a defeated frown.
Spencer didn’t want to be here in the first place, now he’s being forced out into the public to socialize. There has to be a law against this, he knows there’s not because he knows everything, but he is certainly going to try and create one.
“Oh come on, Spence, why don’t you try to get a date?” JJ asks, meaning well, but the laugh that comes from Emily makes him want to recoil.
“C’mon, I’ll help you.” Morgan offers, pulling him from the booth seat.
“Yeah, that never really works well when you try to be my wingman, you usually end up with all the phone numbers.” Spencer claims, pressing his lips into a line.
But like some mock savior, Morgan stands behind Reid as they wait by the bar.
“What about her?” Morgan would point out.
To which Reid would respond with some variation of ‘she’s too much’ or ‘she definitely has a boyfriend three times my size’.
After fifteen minutes of this back and forth, Morgan is seriously regretting he forced the hermit out of his shell.
And that’s when a rowdy group finally leaves and clears the path of vision to you.
Still sat at a high table with one leg crossed over the other, you wiggle your foot as you doodle on a drink napkin.
Reid misses whatever Morgan says, and in that air of silence, the agent follows the vision.
“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.” Derek chuckles, clapping Reid on the shoulder. “She’s pretty. Go talk to her.”
“What?” Reid looks away. “No, no, I don’t want to disturb her.”
You let out a very bored sigh.
Derek’s brows furrow. “I know you’re some boy genius but you really are dumb sometimes. Everything about that girl is screaming ‘put me outa my misery’.”
Spencer tilts his head slightly, watching you rub your eye and then frown at the way you smudged your already smudged eye liner.
“Okay, maybe you’re right.” He nods. “But…what do I say?”
Derek grins. “Compliment her, ask if she wants another drink, strike up a conversation. It’s easy, man.”
Spencer gets an uneasy feeling in him, but he still braves through it. “Easy for you, maybe.” He mumbles before running a hand through his hair and takes a step towards you.
“Go get her, tiger!” Morgan encourages.
When he returns to the team with the happy news, Penelope asks if Spencer’s gonna do good.
“Oh, definitely not, we’ll be lucky if he doesn’t trip over his own feet on the way over there.” Derek answers, laughing.
But Spencer makes it to you without a stumble, yet his whole plan leaves his mind when he gets to you.
You’re gorgeous, too pretty for him.
“Nice legs.”
Did he just say that?
You look up at him upon hearing his voice, your wide eyes confused.
“I’m sorry?” You question, not sure if you heard this stranger correctly.
He’s a rather handsome stranger.
“No- I mean I like your legs- tights! Not your legs, you have nice legs of course but that’s not- your tights are nice- cool! Different?”
Oh god, he should just walk away now. He’s already messed this whole thing up and surely you think he’s an idiot.
While he’s got an embarrassed look on his face, you look down at the red lace tights you wear under your skirt, something your friends questioned as a fashion choice.
“You really like them?” You ask, voice soft to his ears.
He stops his rambling.
“Yeah, of course I do, I think they’re cool.” He smiles softly.
You can’t help but grin bashfully.
“Every guy I’ve talked to tonight thought they were a little weird, but that’s okay, I kinda like weird.” You admit, watching as he shakes his head.
“People say my socks are weird all the time, don’t feel bad.” He comforts, pulling the material of his pants up so you can see his mismatched socks with funky colors and prints on them.
“Those are cool.” Your approval eases him, giving him just enough reassurance that you aren’t going to scream for help in the next two minutes.
“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid- sorry, force of habit, uh, just Spencer. I-I’m Spencer.” He introduces with the smallest of wave.
Still smiling more than you have the entire night, you greet him. He repeats your name like it has some special meaning, and you’ve never loved the sound of it more.
“I was going to get a drink, what are you having?” He asks, looking at your sweating glass. “Vodka soda? Cherry sour?”
You blush. “It’s actually a shirley temple…I just ate all the cherries out of it already.”
Without hesitation, he nods. “Okay, I’ll be back.”
He leaves you at your table, and then your brief moment of sunshine is clouded once more by doubt. What if he doesn’t come back? What if he drugs your drink and then you wake up in an alley somewhere, missing your wallet and phone and your tights that he thinks are so cool?
This was a bad idea. Dating isn’t for you. He seemed so nice and he’s so attractive but that should have been your first red flag and-
Oh. He’s coming back.
With two shirley temples.
He places them on the table and waits for you to grab one, then he grabs the other and takes a sip.
“You mind if I sit?” He asks.
Feeling a little silly for assuming he was out to maim you, you nod.
“I seriously doubt my friends remember I’m over here, so feel free to stay.” You joke at your expense.
He sits across from you, sparing a glance over his shoulder at his team who make it very obvious that they’re staring.
You study his profile, a shaggy haircut that falls across his forehead, all tousled in an effortless way. His jaw line is defined, round brown eyes that flick back to you. When he catches you looking, he grins once more.
It’s never been so…easy, having a ‘get to know you’ conversation. Questions come without second thoughts, you find yourself laughing, actually laughing.
Playing with your straw, you try to calm your facial expressions, your cheeks are starting to hurt from beaming so much.
“So, Dr. Reid, huh?” You ask, making him let out a small huff of embarrassment.
“That’s what the PhD’s say, yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly feeling really dorky about his immense amount of education.
It’s not dorky to you. Every guy you’ve talked to tonight dropped out of community college because ‘it didn’t align with their career paths’ of selling protein smoothies or working in some ‘underground’ record store.
But here Spencer is, explaining he’s on the behavioral analysis unit for the FBI and he tells you about all the degrees he has. All you can think about as he talks of universities and the academy is, knowledge is such a sexy look on a guy. Sure, you’ve never really liked the underachieving stoners, but usually you’ve been with guys who seem to say “you like school?” when you talk about working towards your Masters degree.
“Wow.” Is all you can say for a moment, clearly shocked and, well, impressed. “I really wasn’t expecting that.”
“That’s what most people say.” He nods, picking the cherry in his drink out by the stem and offering it to you.
By your thankful eyes batting up at him, he’s tempted on going behind the bar and bringing you all the maraschino cherries they have. He quickly turns the conversation around to focus on you so he can focus on something other than the stained color on your lips.
“What about you? What do you do?” He asks.
Compared to his job, yours seems too normal, too mundane. You almost want to avoid the question, never once have you been unsatisfied with your career but now you can’t help it. What if Spencer doesn’t like you because you don’t work for NASA?
That’s ridiculous, because to Spencer, your job makes his adoration grow.
“Oh, I’m just a teacher.” You say, fiddling with a stem in your mouth.
Spencer gains a soft smile. “You could never just be a teacher, teacher’s are important. Well, unless you’re a sucky teacher.”
His joke earns a bubbly giggle and he decides he’d like to hear that sound forever. It’s moments like this that he’s glad to have an eidetic memory.
“I don’t think I’m a sucky teacher so that’s good, my students seem to like me.” You state, pushing your hair behind your ear and dropping the knotted stem onto a napkin.
Spencer finds himself leaning a little closer, body naturally gravitating to your pull. “What do you teach?” He asks.
“I work for my schools gifted children program, so I basically teach kid geniuses advanced core curriculum because they’ve tested out of their normal classes.” You chuckle, oblivious to the way Spencer’s heart warms.
He remains quiet for a bit too long, just staring at you with an honest look, one that makes you feel like you’re turned inside out and bared for him. The panic rises again, you think you must have said something to ruin it.
“I know it’s nothing special-” You begin to say.
“No.” He interrupts, a sure tone. “I-I think it’s great. Really, that’s not an easy job.”
Deep breath out, you’re put at ease.
“I constantly have imposter syndrome, these kids are twelve and bringing up philosophies and mathematical formulas I have to go home and study because I haven’t even learned them yet. Honestly, sometimes I don’t even think they need me there.” You joke lightly, half meaning it but masking that slight insecurity by finishing off your drink.
“They need you.” Spencer assures, an expression showing he’s never been more sure of something. “Believe me, you’re probably the only person they see in a school day that understands them.”
Brows creased, you shake your head, holding his rather intimidating gaze for such puppy dog eyes.
“What makes you so sure?” You question.
Spencer takes in a breath. “Because I know what it’s like to be twelve years old and telling a grown adult about Fermat’s Last Theorem.”
Sometimes, the world has a funny way of putting two people together. For years, you’ve wandered through life and on a random Friday night, feeling a little flushed from the Summer air, here is Spencer Reid, the man of your dreams.
Your friends left some time ago after you assured them you were fine to be left at the place you were just complaining about being. You don’t mind being left with Spencer, in fact, you’re dreading the time you have to go home because it means this moment is over.
“I really would like to live in New York.” You exclaim, somehow have fallen into the rabbit hole of dreams for the future.
“New York’s really cool!” He agrees. “Did you know that they have a homicide rate of 4.48 percent right now? It’s been declining since the nineties.”
You must make some sort of surprised face because his eyes go wide and he quickly tried to recover his odd statement.
“Sorry, my job isn’t really full of happy statistics. But mostly we just find dead prostitutes in alleys in New York.”
His blushed cheeks make your heart flutter in its beats.
“I’m glad I’m not a prostitute.” You giggle, making him chew his bottom lip for a moment.
“Yeah, I’m glad you’re not either.”
By the time the team gets their coats back on with the intention of heading home, they look across the room to see their quirky doctor friend is partaking in very friendly body language.
“Oh my god, look at him.” Emily laughs. “He’s finally using that big IQ of his.”
Penelope, who comes to hold onto Morgan’s arm, grins rather proudly. “It’s like a butterfly finally coming out of its cocoon. It’s…beautiful, actually.”
Derek laughs down at her. “I think that last long island ice tea was a bad idea. Come on, baby, let’s get you home.”
“Good luck, my fine friend.” She calls in the general direction of you and Spencer, but the two of you don’t notice.
JJ ties her hair up and starts to take a few steps forward.
“Where are you going?” Penelope questions.
“To let him know we’re leaving?”
“No!” The team seems to exclaim, all shouting that she cannot disturb the moment Spencer worked rather hard to get to.
She just holds her hands up in defense, then follows after Emily as they leave the bar.
Spencer of course notices the way Prentiss leaves him with an encouraging thumbs up. It makes his get a little bashful, but he nods a goodbye and watches the door shut once more. His attention is brought back to his hand on the table, well, more to the way your pinky brushes against his. You continue to talk about mutual interests and what your apartment in New York would look like, a slight ramble to you that shows you’re very aware of the slight contact.
With some kind of placebo courage he can’t even blame on alcohol, he lets his fingers crawl between yours like that’s where they belong.
The team would definitely laugh at this teenage display, but to the both of you, it’s the perfect amount of reassurance, soft enough to not be too scary.
The attraction is there, Spencer forces himself to profile it just so his negative thoughts can’t prove him wrong. You’re smiling at every word, your eyes seem to stay dilated and focused on his, and he isn’t sure if you even realize the way your heel brushes his ankle every so often.
His profile, often never wrong, is what helps him reach across the slight space to tuck your hair behind your ear so casually as he tells you about his minuscule music taste.
After a few flirty comments, you force yourself yo look away from him just so you can het your breathing under control. Upon this action, you read the watch on his wrist and a frown sets on your lipstick stained lips.
“I should go home before it’s too late to walk.” You sigh, not wanting this moment to end.
He nods. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Those round eyes he’s starting to really adore look up at him and you chew your lip, almost like you’re waiting for him to do something. Say something.
It takes him entirely too long to figure out what to do. Morgan would be ashamed.
“C-Can I walk you home?” He asks in a rush and in eagerness.
You nod like that’s the best idea you’ve ever heard.
That’s how it leads to you leaning against him like it’s something you do often, walking in step as you ramble on and on about what you have to do to get your classroom ready for the new school year. He listens without annoyance like most guys would, then tells you about books he has that he thinks you might enjoy, books he could part with so you could give them to the students whose reading levels are above what the school provides.
He’s so caring and considerate, making sure he walks closest to the street, lets you be off in your own world and makes sure you don’t run into anything as you constantly gaze up at him. All the way to your building and up the stairs to your apartment door, the two of you are as comfortable with each other like two old friends would be.
That’s what makes your head spin. You just met Spencer and already feel like he’s been in your life for hundreds of years.
You pull your keys from your purse, you unlock the door but don’t make a move to open it.
“I’m really, really, happy that I met you.” You whisper to him as he slightly crowds your space in the door way.
“I am too.” He agrees, heart beating a little faster as your hand presses gently to his chest.
Don’t be crazy, you just met her, she doesn’t want a stranger trying to kiss her, tell her good night, call her tomorrow, maybe you can plan for something next weekend-
His thoughts don’t stand a chance when you wrap your fingers around his tie and gently tug him to your lips.
It’s smooth and warm and has your eyes shutting and your lungs exhaling. His gentle hand cradles your face while the other flexes against your hip.
It just feels so…
So right.
With the slight tilt of your head, the goodnight kiss deepens, you’re molded against him.
His lips part, coaxing yours to do the same, and the feeling of your tongue against his has you slightly teetering backwards. You lean against the door for support, hands roaming into his hair.
You’ve been wanting to run your hands through it all night.
He’s desperate in his movements, like he’s a starved man and you’re enjoying every second of it. His thumb runs over your jaw, you’re pushing away any space between you.
When you decide you’re going to pass out from the lack of oxygen, you pull away, sucking your bottom lip to savor the taste. Spencer still holds your face in his large hands and matches your shallow pants.
It’s all so much. You’re hot, brain a little foggy, but still so sure of this situation.
And you soon find yourself saying something you’ve never ever said after just meeting a guy.
“Do you want to come inside?”
Spencer seriously thinks he misheard you.
“Yeah- yes. Yes, I do.” He nods.
A laugh escapes your lips, one he swallows up as he embraces you once more, trying to help you open the door. His arm around your waist makes sure you don’t stumble and fall as the two of you finally get inside.
He looks around the space. “I like your apartment, it’s nice.”
“Thank you.” You mumble against his lips, pulling at your jean jacket and tossing it to the couch.
It’s dark, causing you to back into a side table. The both of you laugh, but neither of you bother to reach for the light switch.
You guid him towards your bedroom, pushing him through the ajar door. The open window leaves the room painted in a low light, the breeze is cool as you clumsily fall onto the mattress with him.
“I never do this.” You state, a huff leaving your lips as he rolls you onto your back.
“I don’t either.” He agrees, mouth wandering down your jaw to your neck.
You fiddling hands make a home in his hair. “Like I really don’t do this. I don’t even go to bars, let alone take home strange men- not that you’re strange. But don’t think I am a casual hookup girl, because I’m not, I just- there’s a connection, right? I’m not alone in this?”
He pulls away, looking down at you with a loopy grin. “You’re rambling, that’s a sign of nervousness.”
“I am nervous!” You exclaim with a breathy laugh. “You’re just…you’re really great.”
His thumb traces your bottom lip. “You’re really great too.” He whispers. “But we don’t have to do anything.”
“No!” You say a little too boldly. “I mean, no, no I want this. Do you want this?”
With a nod, he assures you. “I want this too.”
Maybe you should be more shy and self conscious about this, but when he’s being so kind, all your nervousness leaves. The two of you stumble through the awkward bits with laughter and jokes, and it makes you realize that something so serious doesn’t have to be so uniform.
Really, you’re having more fun than you’ve ever had.
“Spencer?” You gasp, dangerously close to falling off the bed at how the two of you have rolled around.
“Yeah?” He asks, head buried in your neck, trying not to get too ahead of himself as he continues his deep pace between your legs.
“You’re kinda pulling my hair.”
Immediately he moves his hand, apologetic.
Hands dragging up his chest, you try to shimmy away from the mattress ledge. Spencer notices the tragedy that’s about to strike, opting to back off of you completely so you can readjust.
You gasp at the loss of contact. “A little warning next time would be appreciated.”
“Sorry, sorry.” He stammers, gripping you in a feverish way, mouth back to yours.
You don’t exactly know how you ended up on top, but you look at him slightly frightened eyes.
“Is this a no?” He questions, only concerned with making you comfortable.
He’s the complete opposite of selfish, he proved that the second he started you off with his tongue against your core.
“No, not if you like this? I just…I don’t know if I’m good at this.”
He nods in understanding. “Okay, no problem.”
You protest as he goes to move you. “Can I try? Will-will you help me?”
God, he could marry you.
“Yeah, of course sweetheart.” He whispers, kissing you gently.
The butterflies in your stomach are all twitter pated.
Or maybe you’re just extremely turned on.
Spencer is a great teacher, it’s you who jumps the gun at things.
“There you go, angel, slow.” He breathes in your ear, finger tips pressing into your hips as you slowly push down, letting his tip enter you. “Just go really slow, okay?”
You try to do as he says, easing him into you slowly, but by some urge to rush satisfaction, you sink all the way onto him without warning.
“Fuck! That wasn’t slow.” He grits, a hoarse moan escaping from the back of his throat, his grip on you almost bruising.
“S-sorry.” You try to say, but the sheer pressure you feel at this sudden angle has you shuddering and crying out softly. “I’m an overachiever.” You try to joke.
“Holy shit, you want an A+ or something?” He chuckles, trying to calm himself down, running through mathematical formulas in his head so he doesn’t finish just like this.
“Spence, I need- it’s a lot, I need-” You whine out, not having the heart to feel embarrassed for sounding so needy.
“I know, I know. Fuck, do you have any idea how good you feel?” He questions, swallowing hard as he guides your hips forward slightly.
“I can’t really think at all when you’re sitting in my cervix right now.” You claim, quickly overwhelmed by pleasure as you find a rhythm against him.
Sucking on your throat, he mutters something you don’t care to listen to.
“This is- is it supposed to be this good?” You moan, trying not to dig your finger nails into his shoulders.
“I think we just fit perfectly.”
With each movement, you become more comfortable and confident, soon that friendly softness is replaced by lustful roughness. Through it all, Spencer remains caring, even when you tell him he can be a little rough with you.
Never in your sex life have you wanted more and more, even when it finishes.
Even after the two of you can’t find the strength to pull any more orgasms from each other, you lay beside each other, Spencer hasn’t bothered to pull out of you yet, perhaps he’s too spent.
“So.” You clear your throat, tracing his features. “How do you want to play this?”
He hums, dragging his fingers up and down your side. “What do you mean?”
“Guys usually leave after this stuff, right?”
His brows furrow, anxiety comes to ripple through him. “Do you want me to leave?”
Staring at his tired eyes, you shake your head. “No, I want you to stay. Forever. I’m thinking about chaining you to the headboard.”
He chuckles. “I’ll save you the effort, I will gladly stay.”
A sweet smile is returned to him.
At some point, the two of you clean up and fall asleep the second the sheets are pulled over you.
Spencer is convinced it’s all a dream until he wakes up to the sun warm over his skin. He rubs his blurry eyes and rolls over in the bed that is not his, met with your bare back. Slowly, he reaches for you, kissing your shoulder to rouse you.
His phone, still in the pocket of his discarded pants, rings again and again, forcing him to retrieve it in his boxers.
Of course it’s Hotch.
Of course he needs to get to the office. On a Saturday. After the night he just had.
“I should call the authorities, there’s a cute intruder in my room.” Your sleepy voice says from bed. “Oh wait…you are the authorities.”
He likes the way you can make yourself giggle.
“I have bad news.” He says, tracking down his clothes. “My boss just called me in.”
He hates the frown you have.
“That’s a very unfortunate thing.” You nod.
He buttons his pants, then slides his shirt on as he comes to your bedside.
“I should get going so I can go home and change.”
His warm hand presses to your cheek.
You turn to kiss his palm. “Is this goodbye?”
“No. Definitely no.” He assures. “I’ll call when I can, okay? Maybe we can get dinner or something?”
You could sigh heavenly at the way he’s just so dreamy.
“That sounds nice. I’d kiss you but I might have morning breath.” You smile.
He kisses you anyway.
And after leaving the team waiting in the round table room, he appears refreshed and in a very good mood.
He takes his seat, all eyes on him.
“Sorry I’m late, good morning.” He clears his throat.
“Good morning indeed.” Morgan chuckles, sliding him a cup of coffee.
“You okay, Reid?” Rossi asks, eyeing the agent.
“I’m great.” He smiles.
“Is that a hickey?” JJ exclaims, reveling in the way he quickly grabs for his neck, only to realize she’s joking.
“Real mature.” He mutters, knowing the entire day is going to be jokes made at his expense.
He doesn’t mind though, not when he knows his reward for all of this is you.
#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#matthew gray gubler#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction
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✦ LATE NIGHT LIVE
PAIRINGS — idol bf!riki x reader
IN WHICH — riki goes live with you and shows off your matching pjs
you were waiting for riki outside of the recording studio patiently. you had a little surprise for him when he came out. before you came to the studio you had saw these cute cookie monster pjs and thought it would be cute for you and niki to wear them together and now here you are.
“oh hey y/n!” you hear a voice say. you look to your left and see sunoo. “hey sunoo howve you been?” you smile at him. “ive been good so far, pretty tired tho. glas recordings over so i can go home now. are you here for riki?” he assumes seeing that you have a little bag saying for riki on it. “yeah got him a little something!” you open the bag for him to see. “aw thats cute, you really do bring out his soft side. he should be getting out now tho so ill see you later!” he waves to you. “byeee!” you smile waving bye to him.
about a minute or two later the door opens revealing your boyfriend. he looks to his side smiling immediately upon seeing you, “hey baby, how long have you been here?” he pulls you in by the waist gently. “mm maybe like 10 minutes ago?” you look away from him thinking. “but anyways i got you a little something here!” you stated getting out if his grip and grabbing the little bag. he smiles grabbing the bag from you and opening it to see a pair of blue cookie monster pajama pants. “really baby?” he states chuckling.
“lets wear them tonight yeah?!” you smile waiting for a response. “yeah but im scheduled for a live tonight, ill still wear them tho okay” he holds you cheek smiling tilting his head at you a little. you say nod happily, grab his hand and make your way home. riki couldnt help but smile at you. you being so excited to match with him and everything, he loved it. he couldnt wait to get home and match with you.
finally getting home, you both immediately went to change into your pjs and a simple black shirt. riki started setting up his live on your vanity since it had a light up mirror while you sat behind him on the couch making sure youre not in the background. riki started the live and comments immediately started rolling in. “hey guys hope youre all well” he smiled waving at the camera.
how was youre day riki !!
“my day was good we simply recorded our bits for some songs then i got surprised by a special someone” he states looking off camera to you smiling. engenes already knew who riki was talking about. you. they absolutely adored you and loved the noticeable difference in riki.
is she with you?
can we see her !!
“yeah shes behind me off camera actually” he looked at you still smiling. “cmere baby they wanna see you” riki holds out his hand to you. you grab his hand smiling cheekily and made your way into the camera.
omg i love her pjs !!
“thank you i just bought them today!” she happily states. “yeah were matching actually look!” riki smiles happily and stands next to you, grabbing your waist gently. you both see the comments going crazy at how cute you guys look. riki turns to you and gives you a kiss on your cheek.
riki takes his seat again and pats his lap looking at you. understanding what he means you take a seat on his lap and almost immediately riki wraps his hands around your waist and lays his head on your shoulder. the engenes see this and they absolutely love it omg.
ni-ki is my standard.
theyre so cute i want what they have !!
idk about you but i want y/n🤷♀️
“well you cant have her but you can still keep those edits coming yk” he looks away with a grin. you lean into the camera and wink, “dw im always yours engenes.” riki immediately gave you his signature side eye while loosening his grip on you. the comments started laughing at the scene in front of them. you also started laughing and turned to him, reaching your hand up to his cheek, bringing his face closer to you, giving him a kiss on the cheek. he looked away breaking into a smile. the rest if the live was just you and riki flirting at (many) times and for some reason riki constantly bringing up that he was matching pjs with you. he was just that happy about matching with you.
“bye engenes have a good night” you and riki say waving then turning off the live. it was noticeable you two were tired so both immediately jump into your shared bed getting into the covers cuddling up to each other closely. “that was acute live riki” you say stroking his cheek softly seeing his eyes are already closed. he simply hums and gets closer to you if thats even possible. “goodnight riki i love you” “goodnight princess i love you too” he mumbles sleepily. you chuckle and kiss his forehead and you both went off into dreamland.
* happy birthday to my bby riki !! *
#amoressb#ni ki#enhypen#enha#enha fluff#enha imagines#enha scenarios#enha x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#enhypen niki#niki enhypen#enhypen nishimura riki#enhypen riki#enhypen ni ki#nishimura riki#riki x reader#riki#ni ki enhypen#ni ki x reader#ni ki fluff#ni ki scenarios#ni ki imagines#niki x reader#niki fluff#niki scenarios#niki imagines#enha x you#enha riki#enha niki
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Stroopwaffels | f1 grid
f1 grid × driver!reader × (lowkey) franco colapinto
[smau + rl]
summary : in which the reader had an accident but pretends as if it never happened, is chronic online, and loves stroopwaffels
liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, lewishamilton and others
yourusername: got traumatised, got stroopwaffels and then a nice nurse lend me her crocs (they're so adorable)
view comments
user1: oh god, she's lost it...
user2: girl, you good
landonorris: *we got some stroopwaffels
yourusername: I'm injured, let me take some ownership
lewishamilton: hope your doing better 🤞❤
user3: that crash looked bad, I hope you're doing alright
user4: well looking at those picture, I think she's fine
user5: or she got some head injury, because what is going on
user6: so are we not going to talk about it???
yourusername: about what?
user7: hope your feeling better ❤
francocolapinto: que te mejores pronto 🥰🥰
yourusername: Idk what you're talking about, but gracias hermoso 😚❤
user8: how are you still alive, that crash looked so mad!?!?
user9: is no one gonna question the amount of stroopwaffels that they bought???
user10: fr, they're like those ppl from the maths books
___
The race started normal. The nervousness as the lights started to turn on, the anticipation electrifying the air as you waited for the lights to turn off. The beating of your heart when they did and the automatic pressure applied to the throttle by you which followed.
You managed to pass a few cars before the first corner, passing a loud crowd in an even louder car. The heat behind your seat, was already making you sweat, and you knew that it would only get hotter as you went along. At least the outside temperatures were still decent.
You remeber checking your side mirror when you tried to pass the car in front of you, and the voice of your race engineer talking into your ear, but you didn't remeber turning. You can't recall if it was your own fault or the car's, or if it was the track. But you do remember your car hitting the curb as you went flying of the track, hitting the fence.
You remeber hearing distant voices, but you couldn't answer, you couldn't move. Your sight was moving so slowly, the dizzy world around you only got a bit clearer after a few moments. Clear enough for you to notice that you had to get out. A smell of fire was what brought said clarity up. Your hands were shaky, as you tried to unfasten your seatbelt. It normally wouldn't have taken this long, but your body was just too heavy. When you finally managed to unbuckle them, you dared to look outside. Over your already heavy breathing, weaved a sense of panic when you noticed that your car had embodied itself into the fence, above the ground, so you had to jump out. There were already Marshalls below, discussing what to do, a crane slowly approached as well. One of the marshalls ran up to the car with a ladder.
Even through your foggy mind you knew what they were planning to do, so you prepared to get out. Trying not to disturb the weight of the car too much, you pulled your legs in and pushed your body up, waiting for the ladder. You looked down towards the orange figures, only making them out blurry through your impacted vision. You jumped a little when a Marshall suddenly appeared by your side. He had already climbed up the ladder, but you hadn't noticed.
His lips moved, but you couldn't hear anything. You didn't know how to answers, so a thumps up had to be enough for now. He seemed to noticed your dizzy state and shouted something down, before slowly reaching out to you, to help you on the ladder. The drop down wasn't far, but the other Marshalls still put you airmattresses in case you should fall.
You don't know how you managed to make your way onto the ladder but you did. Following the Marshall down, as he stayed below you, one hand reaching up and holding you close to the ladder by your back.
At the bottom you had to take a moment to breathe. A Medical team immediately checked if you were alright for the moment, before leading you towards the medical car to take you to the medical centre.
___
liked by francocolapinto, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and others
yourusername: good things: doctor who, stroopwaffels, y mi persona favorito, Franco 😘
view comments
user9: I aspire to be this nonchalant, girl just had a big crash, but instead of addressing it she posts her boy
user10: are they together? user9: I genuinely don't know yourusername: neither do we 🤔 user9: OMG?!?! user10: what is that supposed to mean???? 😳😳
francocolapinto: 🥰🥰❤ [liked by yourusername]
yourusername: 🥰❤😘 [liked by francocolapinto] user11: what is this, guys? yourusername: 😘 user11: welp
user12: WHAT IS GOING ON ?!?! 😲💀👀
user13: right??
landonorris: are you still concussed? 😃
yourusername: from what 👀 landonorris: 💥🏎 yourusername: I don't know what you're on about 🤔 landonorris: 💀
alexalbon: are you dating my teammate?
user14: alex out here asking the important questions yourusername: no alexalbon: I just heard franco shout in protest carlossainz55: I did too yourusername: what are u doing at williams, another dinner date with james 🤨😏😘 charles_leclerc: hahaha, she got you there 😂😂
maxverstappen1: can I get some stroopwaffels too?
yourusername: only if you watch doctor who with me 🥰 maxverstappen1: ok 😊
___
The conclusion from the medical staff after your inspection came to a surprise almost. You were pretty much fine, aside from a concussion. Nevertheless did they still sent you to the hospital to get a CAT-scan just to be sure that everything is fine.
After everything there got concluded, you were advised to stay overnight before being able to get picked up by someone. Not that you were in a state to complain, as you were still way too dizzy and tired to complain. The way too hard hospital bed, with it's annoying pillows didn't bother you as much in that moment, because you couldn't really concentrate on it anyway, as you quickly fell asleep.
While you were out, some of the drivers came up to visit, leaving flowers and get well cards. One of the drivers got also instructed to pick you up in the morning. That someone turned out to be Lando. For whatever reason.
Although you were still a bit dizzy, you managed to not throw up or fall on your nose when you made your way to Lando's car. The gifts you received were already on the backseat. The curly headed man, smiled brightly as he saw you, which you returned, still slightly delirious.
"They gave me these funky pills so now I can't stop smiling." Was the fist thing you announce when you sat in the passenger seat. Lando simply laughed loudly and started the car.
"Hey, can we stop at some shop, I'm craving stroopwaffeln." You answered, trying to pronounce it as Dutch as you could, remembering the way Max taught you.
"Fuck yeah, stroopwaffels are the best." Lando agreed eagerly. "But don't tell our trainers."
Completely off it, you lifted a wobbly finger to your lips and let out a pshhh. Lando watched you, and bit his lip clearly holding back a laugh.
"Shit you're high." He mused. "But you have to pretend not to be when we ho shopping, alright."
You held out your pinkie, "I swear."
Lando giggled and wrapped his pinkie around yours.
___
liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, francocolapinto and others
lando.jpg: stroopwaffels 🍪
tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri
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yourusername: did you steal my stroopwaffels???
lando.jpg: I payed for them yourusername: paid*
user14: damn they're really out there living their best life
user15: he did oscar dirty, haha
user16: I really want some stroopwaffels too now 🙃
oscarpiastri: why are you all so obsessed with stroopwaffels?
yourusername: cause they're amazing
lando.jpg: seriously osc
danielricciardo: oh can I get some too 😯
lando.jpg: no yourusername: yes danielricciardo: great 🥰 thanks y/n
user17: I love the crocs
___
You had been ordered to stay in bed by the doctors, so that was exactly what you had been doing. Laying on your couch, watching doctor who, drinking tea and eating stroopwaffels. You ignored the sickness coming over you as you bit into the soft stroopwaffel, before placing it again over you mug, just in time for Franco to come back into the room from the bathroom. Way too loud in your opinion. The remains of the concussion were still present and you were trying to improve your health before the race this coming weekend. So you did nothing and chilled with Franco.
He came over after you got back home and hasn't really left your side since then.
"What candles do you use in you bathroom, they smell amazing." He announced throwing himself back on the couch next to you.
"I think they were a gift, so I'm not sure." You answered, moving you eyes from the television towards the boy.
"Who gave them to you?"
"Charles, but I think Alexandra picked then out." You nodded chuckling alongside Franco.
"Ah, then I'm gonna ask her, maybe I can also pet Leo."
"Maybe you can steal him and then we can co parent him." You suggested eyes focused back on the screen.
"Are you on drugs again?" Franco asked leaning over and poking your cheek. You still had problems moving you eyes, as the world seemed to just lag behind when you did. So with you simply staring at the screen showing barely any emotions you did appear sluggishly, as if on medication.
"Well, I do still take my meds, but I'm not high." Slowly you turned to look at Franco who frowned at you.
"Are you sure it's a good idea to race this weekend again?" He asked concerned. It was a question he had continuously asked over the past few days. And you replied the same everytime. "I have to, I might get dropped if not. I don't want to not perform and look weak in front of the media, they're gonna eat me alive. I mean people have driven in worse states."
Franco didn't answer, but his expression clearly didn't agree with your words. Though he knew that arguing with you wouldn't matter. It would only lead to headaches. So all he did was throw his arms around you and moved his body weight into you, so that you both fell onto your side.
You landed on you back and Franco squeezed in the gap beside you and the back of the couch, arm draped over your torso. When befriending him your quickly learned that his love language was physical touch, so random cuddles were starting to be normal behaviour for him. Especially when he wanted to show that he cared and comfort you.
You never complained, because you actually loved it. You loved the kind of bond you two shared. But there was a slight problem just now.
"I can't reach my stroopwaffels."
#formula 1#formula one fanfiction#lando norris#franco colapinto#f1 x reader#f1 smau#daniel ricciardo#alex albon#carlos sainz#oscar piastri#f1 fanfic#franco colapinto x reader#lando x reader
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I'm so excited you're taking requests for Rupert Campbell-Black!!
Do you think you could maybe fo #15 from your prompt list about him showing up for the reader bc they don't have anyone else?
Idk if just love that trope and I think it works with him.
If you don't feel inspired by that one no worries!
Someone in the crowd
prompt15 Rupert Campbell Black x fem!reader
word count: 5.3k+
warnings: parental neglect, mild swearing, hurt comfort, FLUFF
AN: Ahhhhhhh ANON I love you this is my fav prompt I was initially planning on the same one anyways thanks for platform ing my Rupert obsession you’re the first one
The chronicles of the country side for a veterinary sciences PhD student included more than just animals, main reason she selected a university so far from the hustle and bustle of the city. Peculiar animals in their natural state, she came across more than just peculiar animals.
Trespassing loses its meaning for the engrossed researcher, she didn’t realise when she passed the forest to a private estate land whilst following the slow worm. The most advanced high end camera, that Rupert had only seen with those media folks and proper film production. However he assumed the girl in a camouflage jungle vest to be an intern in a tabloid firm, trying to prove herself to be ever so efficient to her superiors by sneaking in to his property for a few pictures. Too naive to realise he could sue her for all her fortune perhaps. Rather an amateur at her job perhaps, she was there to snap him yet her attention didn’t avert to him on his horse before he approached her himself, “Young lady” he cleared his throat sternly “You do realise you’re trespassing here?”
“Oh?” She looked out of her camera lens to the voice that called out her and in an instant she lost sight of the slow worm she was following. “Fuck!”
“And if you don’t delete the pictures and get off of this land right this second I will be suing you for all the jobs you don’t already have.” Rupert threatened, he truly misliked this breach of his privacy to no end. But because the girl seemed unskilled and gullible to her supposedly first job he felt he could let her get off easily.
“I’m not deleting any pictures I barely got two” she said with a heavy sigh, her eyes frantically searching for her subject within the grass again not too bothered by his threat. “And I don’t have any job as it is”
“Oh” he amused, getting off of the saddle of his horse to level with her, “are you one of those fans then? How many times do I have to tell you people-“
“What?” Her attention broke from her subjected reptile to the man this time, “a fan? I don’t even know you…”
“Oh right” he scoffed placing his hands by his hips, “surely you don’t.”
“I truly don’t. I was following my subject for today from the forest lands and I ended up here it was an honest mistake” she explained herself as she opened her camera to show him the pictures, they were all reptiles and not…him.
“You were following a snake?” He asked rather confused and somewhat intrigued as to what would bring her to this.
“It’s not a snake, it’s a is a legless lizard. Anguis Fragilis” she corrected the man, ever so casually as if it were the most common of knowledges to attain.
The man just burst into laughter letting go of the horse chain to contain it, his hand on his chest he could find the joke in the name and the scenario extremely comical. “You have got to be kidding me!”
Y/n felt a bit embarrassed as if she’d said the wrong name so she went through it in her head again and she wasn’t, wrong. It was perhaps like college again, info dumping on the wrong set of people who poke fun at peculiar passions. But the man seemed to be too old to be like those immature college kids who mock others so she was left rather confused “what is so funny?” She asked hesitantly, “it’s rather rare and native to this area we don’t come across them in the city…” she trailed off trying to fill in his boastful laughter with something to feel less uncomfortable.
“Oh is it now?” Rupert asked as his laughter subsided and he realised the girl was an enthusiast in a true fashion. He just found the name of the godforsaken reptile to have a double meaning to it, he thought she made it up but when she got awkward and explained further he realised she wasn’t joking. “My apologies, are you new here?”
“Yes Ive actually moved here for research, I’m studying veterinary sciences for PhD… ” she said still feeling a bit self conscious after he’d laughed like that.
“Anus Fragilis huh?” He repeated trying his best to suppress another set of laughter but he failed at it ever so evidently.
“Anguis…er-slow worm.” She cringed as she picked up on the joke that had him loosing his composure like that. Perhaps she judged him to act his age which he looked so fast. “It’s also called slow worm. I lost him regardless, so I’ll get going. Sorry to bother you.”
“No, no hang on a second darling” he said gripping her elbow as she attempted to leave but as she returned to face him again he left it just instantly. “Since you’re already here, allow me to indulge you in a coffee or so? It would be very disappointing if I don’t get to learn more about…” he wanted to say it, the joke. But the awkwardly offended look on her face of feeling small wasn’t worth it so he kept it to himself “slow worms and legless lizards”
“They’re the same.” She briefed him feeling his ignorance, the PhD aspirant did not seem to have time to entertain his indulgence. “Forgive me but I have to go, I’ve walked too far from my car.”
“Well then allow me to drop you?” Rupert offered with his usual charm which didn’t leave to phase a lot.
Not her perhaps, “It’s not that far” she said curtly. Packing her camera equipment in a hurry. “Thanks. And sorry for trespassing.”
Rupert watched as she hastily packed her lenses and the rolls. Just when he thought he could work on himself to not offend people on first impressions, he generally didn’t do so with ladies so perhaps this was a first. “I’m Rupert Campbell Black” He put his hand forward for a handshake, “Sports Minister.” He introduced himself.
She had both her hands full with her books and camera, which she could rearrange back in the bag to accept his handshake but she’d rather not so she just nodded shortly. “Yes, Mr. Rupert, so nice to meet you.” She said with half a smile, then paced away not even waiting for his reply.
“I suppose I’ll see you around?” He said with his usual grin but she was already pacing away back to the path she’d come from.
That is how the two first met. Not her most memorable nor pleasant interaction but surely intriguing for the minister. The next time he met her, late early evening at a cafe. It took a second to recognise her with her head down in a book but there was enough lighting cast on her against the window where she sat. “Slow worm!” He exclaimed as he approached her causing her to avert her attention from the book to him.
“You…” she trailed off however her tone didn’t match the same enthusiasm as his. “Hi.” She said as he gestured to the chair across her on her table, asking if someone was there but she shrugged and nodded “Please, go ahead” she said being polite, internally bracing herself for another awful interaction.
“I was hoping I’d run into you” he told her leaning forward on the table crossing his arms, “turns out, your little bugger is a frequent visitor of the stable sheds back at the estate.”
“That explains yeah” she nodded closing her book, the size of it gigantic and hardcover it made a small thud, “it eats slugs and snails, spiders too…”
“Wonderful aspect” Rupert complimented, under informed on the subject he didn’t know what to say. “Did you get proper observations for your research?”
“Superficially yes” she nodded, “I’ll run into more of those one of these days.”
“You can always just visit my place again…I would be honoured to help out a bright mind.” Rupert offered leaning back in the chair, unbuttoning his blazer.
“That is so kind of you, I’m very sorry for trespassing that day” she said it again, obviously not friendly enough with him to take him up on that offer.
“Well you could make up for it by telling me your name.” He shrugged as his lips formulated a smile.
“Y/n.” She told him. As the conversation progressed, learning more of him, telling him more about her research and the subjects she’d come across so far. For someone in a vastly different field he was such an attentive listener. She’d told him a lot, about the animals, her thesis, her lectures and sessions, being a TA, moving here.
“And what of your friends?” He asked her over his second cup of coffee in the same conversation because he wanted to keep it going.
“I don’t live on campus so I don’t have roommates to be friends with, then I’m a TA but everyone else is a bachelors and third year student. Had I done college here I’d have those friends…I do have friends from college back home but as of now it’s only my professors.” She informed him, very casual with it but as she formulated the picture in his head it seemed to be a rather isolating experience.
“And what do you do for fun around here?” He asked her to see if it was as isolating as he realised.
“Trespass estates.” She joked with a small giggle, but in truth she did absolutely nothing for fun because there wasn’t anything.
“Greatest hobby ever” he joked back. But as she didn’t follow up with another activity he realised that if he pried about it he’d just force her to admit she led a boring and somewhat lonely life. He wasn’t judging her, she was fresh out of college and had to move a whole place and seemed to have no friends here. Well except for him if she’ll have him. “Are you struggling?”
“Of course not. I love my work, I can easily afford rent too it’s not a problem.” She replied honestly, if only financial was all of her struggles.
“Don’t you think you’d save more if you lived on campus?” He questioned unsure of her choice to stay in a boutique flat in one of the most expensive neighbourhoods.
“My father wouldn’t allow it. He’s a bit of a tone deaf classist that way.” She admitted, rather casually.
“Allow?” He repeated, surprised. He didn’t know her precise age but by her educational status and the looks of it someone in their early twenties didn’t need their father’s permission on how to live.
“It’s just a bit complicated, he wants all of his children to take the right step that is work in our family business, his company. I tried, it’s soul draining and very unlike me” she sighed “So I just extended education.”
“To get far from him?” He perceived, perhaps not the way she saw it.
“—To explore my options. I don’t want to disappoint him when I can avoid it.”
“And is this the way to be?” He asked, his tone guarded and expression curious.
“Perhaps.” She replied, but on the inside she was so hyper aware that anywhere farther from the family business as all the way to be. She didn’t want to distanced from her father nor her family, she may not be the golden child but she wanted him to be ever so proud of her even though she didn’t walk on the road he chose for her.
“Your spirit likes the fight doesn’t it?” It was more of an observation than a question.
“I don’t indulge in self awareness that well” She replied with a bemused shrug and he just let out a low laugh that. And that was her first friendship in Rutshire. To Rupert’s likeness the cafe was another one of basil’s side quests but he visited there less frequently given the bar was his primary. Regardless, Rupert got him too. The prime customer and his newest friend, studied there most of the time because she lived close by and Rupert felt drawn to her company.
She had no other and he found her growing to be his favourite one. He fancied the conversations with her so much, in her absence basil teased him about it. This one afternoon, Rupert visited as his usual time, or perhaps y/n’s usual time which he picked up on but she wasn’t there. “The coffee can’t be that good.” Basil said with a small scoff, as he found Rupert with a disappointed expression in the girl’s absence.
“I’m just trying to reduce the alcohol intake” Rupert said nonchalantly, well aware he didn’t the caffeine he’d been consuming just for the conversations with her.
“I wasn’t talking about the coffee” Basil added with a devious grin hinting at the double meaning joke he was referring for.
“Piss off” Rupert rolled his eyes at the man with a heavy sigh of irritation sitting down at the table, rolling up his sleeves and facepalming. “This is her usual time to come and study here” he mentioned.
“Which you don’t let her do.” Basil said, the entire time indulging the poor girl in conversations and spontaneous outing plans. “She’d have to be extraordinarily brilliant to keep up with her courseworks with all the detours you put her up to.”
“She is extraordinarily brilliant.” Rupert briefed him.
“I suppose you’d know.” Basil shrugged leaning against the table where he was sat, “Does she have a boyfriend?”
Seemingly offended at the mere thought of that Rupert’s expression disgusted, “Of course not!”
“Of course not?” Basil repeated surprised with his affirm expression. “So you are sleeping with her.”
“I’m not sleeping with her.” Rupert emphasised on the word ‘not’ and it was probably the tenth time that Bas had asked him that this moment.
“Of course not” Basil humoured him mimicking his tone when he said that.
“I’m not, it isn’t like that with her.” Rupert tried to explain that to his friend who found that to be such a foreign concept. It was a very strangely unknown and unspecific feeling for Rupert himself too.
“You don’t want to sleep with her?” Bas questioned not believing nor understanding the prospect “she’s rather pretty.” besides he’d sleep with anything.
“She isn’t just pretty Bas, she’s beautiful, a bit too much even on the inside.” He paused “She is precious.” Rupert spoke with such genuine passion that basil had to lay off of the joke he was brewing.
“And what of you?” Basil asked, it was something Rupert hadn’t even questioned himself for well not yet anyways.
“What of me?” He answered the question with a question feigning innocence. Before basil could further explain himself, even though well aware that Rupert understood him. The bells of the door jingled announcing upcoming presence in the nearly empty cafe causing the men to turn at the voice.
“Hello-Hello, Gentlemen!” Y/n exclaimed in the most enthusiastic Sunday morning tone possible but it was a cloudy afternoon on a Tuesday. To Rupert she always sounded like a Sunday morning with her little giggles and all the mannerisms but today she seemed way more lifted with spirits.
“Want to bet a tenner she ran into a coyote.” Basil said as she made her way to their table sitting across Rupert whilst basil was still leaning against the table.
“I bet you a twenty its a pine marten.” Rupert said, he picked up on everything from their conversation. This week she was in search of that specific animal from her list or so, he kept track somewhat subconsciously.
“It’s neither” She said with a smile still plastered on her face as she sat her bag down to the side placing her hands on the table. “I’ve got great news, well not great but perhaps good, great to me.” She went in an adjective discourse and shook her head coming back on track “My professor submitted my thesis to this government honorary publications department and I’m getting an in-kind research grant!”
“The government is giving you money?!” Basil matched her enthusiastic tone leaning forward on the table.
“No, no it’s an in kind grant…as in-they present me with an award but the big thing is that I get policy access, lab space, government authorised datasets…” she explained further with her eyes so lit up Rupert wanted to bottle this warmth of emotions he felt in just seeing her happy like this and drink it like water.
“You are getting an award?!” Rupert said with loud earnest passion for her excelling. “Y/n! That is marvellous news!”
“You fucking genius!” Basil added further, giving her a side hug and kissing the top of her head, giving her hair a ruffle as he walked across the cafe, “this calls for a celebration!”
“Thank you” She replied with a toothy smile. Feeling very heart warmed. Then Rupert took both her hands in his, he looked just as lit up as if it was his award.
“My darling, you absolute mastermind. Your mind is a wonder, y/n I am so so proud of you!” He said, he didn’t have to reaffirm or reassure more so because out of everyone she’d come across, Rupert had been so supportive, a subject and felt so unfamiliar yet he’d reassured and let her know it so constantly that she’d always have him to be cheering so hard for her. “You deserved this!”
“Rupert, that is so kind! Thank you, seriously” she replied with a glint in her eyes he could feel coloured by. Just about on time, basil blasted the confetti cracker he happened to have lying around. He turned the open sign to closed at the door of the cafe and returned to the table, slowly she let her hands out of Rupert’s.
“Didn’t have champagne in the cafe but this should do” Basil said as he presented their table with a small cake.
“You didn’t have to close the place” y/n said with a small giggle as she saw the cake, a sign in red jam crossing out the name ‘Einstein’ and Y/n in its place. Classic Bas.
“Oh please love, I deserve this celebration.” Bas said with a dramatic roll of his eyes, any reason to not work was reason enough.
“Right of course since he worked so hard.” Rupert joked clearly forgetting he owed the man in staying the cafe for him to keep it open just in case y/n might come in. They kept congratulating her over and over again as the trio dug into the cake.
“So when exactly is the award function?” Rupert asked, it was going to be event of the week for him more than it was for y/n.
“It’s on this Friday, I get one visitor pass and my father is flying out to attend it!” She said, ebullient. It did irk him somewhat because he’d wanted to see her receive the award but he knew how much her father’s approval meant to her so he was happy in her happiness regardless.
“That is great news, what did he say?” Rupert asked keeping his disappointment for not being able to see her at bay.
“His assistant put me through in the very second call so he must really be impressed, he asked me about the function and he sounded very positive of it.” She told them about the seemingly brief phone call.
“You have to talk to an assistant to get to your fath-“ basil was quickly interjected with a small shove on the leg from Rupert to take a turn in that observation. Rupert didn’t want it to rain her parade, “It’s so nice he’s coming all this way.”
“He’d probably stay a day or two after that you should meet him!” She added, it seemed as if she was somewhat more joyous with the fact that her father was pleased than the actual award to her name. It was a grey line.
“I would be delighted to.” Rupert said, he would be. At least for her sake despite having his internal doubts towards the man.
-
The award function was an extremely formal event, you could barely tell apart the professors from the bureaucrats. Rupert could tell the difference easily though, he simply knew the later group, almost all of them. But he wasn’t there for any of those people. Taking his seat at the round table, next to the faces he knew very well but he was way too focused on the happenings of the stage to indulge in small talk. And then there it was.
The lady of the evening. At least for him, her research dissertation was called out and he recognised it was her turn before they presented her name as well. White shirt with several pins of animal welfare and her educational institution. Simplicity and grace, ever so precious. As she received the medal and the award plate Rupert clapped perhaps the loudest, standing up even. The stage wasn’t so far but she didn’t spot him because her eyes were searching another direction and the procession was short lived before she could avert her gaze.
Finally after all the names were done, she was free from the stage back to the softly mingling crowd. “There she is!” The enthusiastic exclamation caught her attention from her lost trance.
Adhering the man in suit with flowers in his hand, surprised and radiated expression, “Rupert?!” She was baffled and so relieved she didn’t understand the later feeling. She rushed to him, their distance getting closer as he opened his arms for her.
“Congratulations, darling” he said bringing her into a tight embrace both of them so joyous, hers was rather infectious. He easily lifted her from the ground out of glee, kissing the side of her face. “You were wonderful out there!”
“When did you get here?” She asked once he put him down and she pulled away yet kept her arms entangled with him. Enough to just see his face, “also how?”
“I’m an MP you thought I wouldn’t be able to get into a government function?” He amused, surprised she did not see it coming, perhaps she wasn’t expecting him but her reaction seemed as if she would rather prefer him. “I got here an hour before yours was announced.”
“I am so glad you made it!” She told him, the effort was so heartwarming to her. He’d came to an event which wasn’t initially his, making more arrangements to even get in for her. She didn’t want to voice it because he’d always reply with such a strange concern as if being loved more than to be sustained wasn’t optional, she wasn’t used to this concern nor sentimental support.
Rupert could tell her kind, wide eyes in a sort of turmoil of something she couldn’t figure out by even herself but he didn’t pry on it, “where is your father?” He asked looking around shortly.
“Oh he…he isn’t here. He could not make it.” She said with a small shrug, that is how casual his absence was to him.
“—How come?”
“Probably his flight, I forgot to notify him about our time zones or so. If he were skipping he would’ve called prior” there was a small hope tugging at her heartstrings trying to believe this wasn’t like the other times. “He would be here anyways, would just be missing the event.”
“I suppose” he replied curtly, being presented with two choices of either being truthful with her of her father’s harsh and uncaring constitution or hold the hope she held out for the man with her. None of the two seemed befitting to him. As the event progressed she introduced him to some of her professors and people that she worked with, he did the same with the other officials that he knew of. She grew tired of the socialising and asked him if they could leave the event, she wasn’t as tired as she was growing disappointed of a man who wasn’t even in the room.
Even though Rupert and her came to the event from a different place and were going back in difference directions it was a given that they leave together. At least to him it was, she’d just informed him she felt like leaving and he stood up in an instant. He was dropping her back to her place because she didn’t driver herself to the function. The two were walking, to his car in the chilly night with his suit blazer draped over her shoulders, flowers and his hand in her hand, he carried her award with her bag for her and a light hearted conversation. Serenity which ran away once they came across a pay phone call booth. “Do you mind if I go make a call?” She asked him, he nodded but he was well aware who that call was intended for.
Rupert leant against the phone stand with the small door of it open, close to her as she pressed the numbers inserting coins. Anxiously awaiting the other line to answer she replied when a voice answered “Hello, this is me, y/n. Did dad leave yet?” She asked, he hated to see her in such distress and was afraid the conversation ought to make it worse. “What? What do you mean—the event, my award he was going to be here for…like he promised.” Rupert could only hear y/n’s side of the conversation but he could pan out the other side, which wasn’t even her father just some office assistant. “Just let me talk to him…please…two minutes perhaps?” It was difficult to watch, begging for the scraps of her father to an assistant. After a few moments the call ended and she couldn’t even stomach the courtesy of a goodbye.
As she walked out of the booth he searched for her to meet his eyes, narrate to him the happenings of the call. “His plans changed” she said but nothing further. He could tell she didn’t feel like talking so he stopped walking and also held her back from the track, pulled her into his arms. Resting his chin on top of her head as he held her, enlacing his arms around her tightly. He could definitely stay like this for rest of the night. Even life? A small voice suggested and he quickly dismissed it as he was pulled back to her, she didn’t feel relaxed in his arms even though she hugged him back and her face so steady, he felt his shirt getting sprinkled with dampness, as if in smallest portions.
“Y/n…” he trailed off pulling away to confirm if she was crying, “are you crying?” He asked as she lowered her face so he couldn’t see it but he leant in her direction to see. “Hey..hey, it’s alright” he pulled her back to him letting her weep onto his chest as he ran a hand through her hair.
“I don’t understand why I feel so bad” she said through her tears, holding onto him like she would fall apart even more if he let go. Perhaps she would.
“It is alright darling just let it out” Rupert said as he continued to sooth her in his arms, trying to provide a present, grounding support.
“He promised me…” she trailed off crying harder, all those events where her father should’ve been present but wasn’t came back to her. Fancy dress competitions at school where the chauffeur that dropped her off would have to attend the show out of pity for the child, birthdays where he would have to be bothered a multiple times to come attend cake-cutting, evidently sad over a test but he simply couldn’t be bothered to ask his daughter if she was alright. So much life spent in I-promise-you-I’ll-be-there. So much disappointment and you’d think one would learn. “I just feel stupid-I thought this time would be different.”
Rupert held her face in his hands “look at me” he said forcing her to meet his gaze. “You are not stupid for what you feel, you are not at fault for someone so detached and irresponsible towards their own child.” He spoke whilst wiping her tears, “he will forever be an incomplete, deficient man for the kind of father that he is. But you my love are beyond him and how he treats you, you’re brilliant and kind and funny and you have a heart big enough to hold a planet. You are going to go so far, your suffrage of his conditional love and inflicted anguish will heal for the better. I promise you that.”
This was a better hope than the one she was always latched onto, hoping that he would change, come around for once. But letting go and a promise for a softer tomorrow seemed so much more beautiful. “But I am so tired”
“You have been so gentle through so much…you must have been tired too. But persevering is constant and you, you always do. There is so much life within you, those around you are infected with it, I know I am.” He confessed, he hadn’t voiced it out especially not like this even to himself but she was more than a lively feeling, more than a chase or a rush for attraction. No. She was life.
Such admission made her heart flutter, she felt the drumming in her ears and it wasn’t the anxious kind. This felt like a sunrise after a good dream, but she had no words for it because her eyes spoke enough and so did his that wandered down to her lips and back to his. Reciprocating the course of gaze when he leant forward, face so close she didn’t move even by the slightest tired of awaiting him to inch to the closest extent she caught a soft grip of his shirt, lowering her gaze right when he crashed his lips onto hers. She kissed him back and it felt heavenly, as the kiss deepened he felt like he had reached there.
Smiles glued to their faces once they pulled away to catch a breath, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear he said “you are not the only one who’s won something tonight.”
“That means I’ve won twice” she said with a small giggle adding to his exaggeration that kissing her felt like a win.
“That isn’t the same.” Rupert corrected her, going in to kiss her again with a slower passion, taking his time letting the sweetness of it linger “for me this is centuries worth of wins.”
—
IVE SO MUCH MORE OF HIS STUFF COMING SOMEBODY SEDATE ME…next his enemies to lovers let me know if you want to be tagged
PLEASE comments are my fuel I am HUNGRY for validation please if you like this please please let me know
#rupert campbell black#rupert campbell black x reader#Rupert Campbell black x you#rupert Campbell black x fem!reader#rivals disney+#rivals#rupert Campbell black fanfiction#rupert Campbell x reader#rupert x taggie#taggie x rupert#declan o’hara x reader#declan o’hara#tony baddingham
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Part 3 for the fitclet I did for @keferon 's mecha pilot jazz au! (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
For those who missed it:
Part 1 || Part 2
This is probably the longest out of all the 3 parts, dear god, I went all in. It came out bigger than I ever expected it to be. I was not expecting it to go this far honestly, but the parasites in me, they begged for more. So here we are! :D
Again tho, idk how in character they will be here, but I tried my best \(*T▽T*)/. Also, kinda bullshitted my way through in worldbuilding bc idk how things work exactly- and I had to come up with stuff on my own, even tho I'm not that good in mecha world stuff, so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies ^^;;
Now, to give credit to those who so desperately deserve it:
My sister @saltynsassy31 for helping me when I couldn't write out some of my ideas and doing it herself (so consider this as a bit of a frankenstein monster of both our writing styles, mainly during intense scenes. If there is any fancy words in this, it's cuz of her) and being my beta reader for this part. Seriously yall, this wouldn't have been as coherent and well written without her help!
Also huge thanks to my online sister @yayadrawsthingz for helping out when I hit a few road blocks during this!
And finally, a huge huge thanks to my honorary online uncle @hexyz09 for helping me finish off the final fight scene when I got stuck during some plot holes and road blocks, or generally just writing myself into a corner and having to help me leave it, despite not knowing jackshit about the au, let alone the ship and characters themselves, but was still willing to help me through in working on the plot, in this crazy obsession of mine XD
Yall have no idea how much help these guys were. Probably wouldn't be able to finish without either of their help ᕦ(òωóˇ)ᕤ
Oh and an honourable shoutout to the song "Headlock" by Imogen Heap! Kept listening to this on loop as it kept my drive up to write this.
Now onto the fic!
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Prowl ignored Jazz's various attemps to push out his servo from the cockpit. Despite the mech being weak himself, the human was still no match against thousands of pounds of metal, especially in his own weakened state.
Which was a matter of its own at the moment. Prowl knew he had very little time to be able to run ahead before the other humans caught on to them, having noticed the alarm bells ringing through the facility.
So he ran towards the exit Jazz had initially pointed out, the only plan they had at the moment.
...
"Prowl! Prowler, hey! I know you can hear me! Prowl!" Jazz shouted as he slammed yet another fist in a failed attempt to nudge the bot's servo out of the way. He hasn't said a word since picking Jazz up, and he wasn't sure how long that was, maybe not that much, but it felt too long yet too little at the same time (what a headache).
Sliding down, he gently hit his forehead over the protective servo and let out a sigh of defeat. No way he could get him to move like this.
Why was he trying to anyways? Didn't he want to be with Prowl? He certainly did, but somehow, something in him made him feel like he shouldn't just be accepting this.
And maybe Prowl also knew this, which is why he took off and hasn’t said a word since. Both held conflicted feelings about the whole thing. If only things didn't feel so blurry right now!
Suddenly, a hard shift made Jazz stumble a bit, grasping at whatever he could so he didn't fall back, loud noises of metal scrapping metal could be heard as something got kicked open on the outside. Jazz scrambled over to the small crevice that opened between Prowl's digits, not enough for him to fit anything over other than his hand, but enough to get a glimpse of what was happening outside.
Prowl had kicked down the exit door to the lab ('not like he had the hands available to properly open the damn thing anyways' Jazz thought to himself). It was meant for mechas to exit the room after they finish off whatever it is they do in here, that Jazz knew, and if he was right, just down the hall there will be another exit leading to the backroom where they stockpiled the mech suits. No one but the technicians were usually supposed be there, it would be an easy fight to get to the big gate that lead to the outside training grounds, which is why Jazz had pointed for the mech to go down there in the first place.
There shouldn't have been a problem besides giving him time to leave unscathed. Which Jazz assumed would not be the case as he was currently inside Prowl and not buying him time to escape. But, to Jazz's surprise, nothing had come close to attacking them, yet.
The pilot did not have much time to contemplate it as suddenly he heard Prowl rumble an annoyed grunt.
"Don't move."
In shock, Jazz stumbled back as Prowl removed his hand and reached for the end of the overhead gate, seemingly alot harder to kick down than a two way door. The only thing it would really do would be to bend the metal a bit but it wouldn't give an open entrance. Jazz didn't dare leave, not like he could from this hight, but even if he could, Prowl would probably just pick him up again; it be a waste of energy really (just admit it, you don't want to leave him). But something about this felt wrong, so far they haven't had a single guard come down the hall, just this small pause would give them enough time to catch up to the two runaways, Jazz was sure that guards had been on his tail when he was under his rampage.
Unless...
Wait.
"Prowl! Wait don't open that gate!" But he was too late, the moment he uttered those words the mech had already been in motion and pushed the gate up with all his might and as quickly as he opened it a gun shot came through the otherside. They had been waiting for them, they knew where they were heading. The bastard he kicked down prior to this probably saw them and reported it, dammit.
Prowl let out a strangled cry of pain as the shot landed right on his left shoulder (like it wasn't damaged enough by the lack of arm), Jazz fell backwards with the harsh motions, hitting the back of the pilot's seat, the impact leaving his vision to go dark for a few seconds before he collected himself as quickly as he could. In an instant though, just as he tried to get back up to see what was outside, Prowl had put his hand back over the open cockpit.
No...he wouldn't be able to fight like this, protecting him as he is would only hinder the bot to more damage. And that's exactly what Jazz intended to express to the other. "Prowl! You won't be able to fight with your hand over me! Forget about holding me inside, I won't leave, I promise!"
"That's not the point!" Prowl growled, letting out another hiss of pain as more shots were loaded, someone shouting out for them to stand down.
Prowl couldn't risk leaving Jazz exposed. Unlike the human, Prowl could take a few shots, their weapons not being strong enough to inflict any serious damage to his plating (though perhaps a bit to his exposed protoform, though he could handle it for a little while longer). But it would take one lucky shot on Jazz to have him dead in an instant, and Prowl couldn't take that chance.
It seemed like Jazz got the message, not spitting back any sort of remark about Prowl's lack of explanation.
But the mech couldn't linger too much on those thoughts, he had to get out, and fast. He was losing too much energon, and his vision was starting to get blurry, which wasn't a good sign. It didn't help that his thoughts were a hazy mess, his usual ability to think logically overthrown by the panic of needing to get out of this place while ensuring Jazz's survival.
It's not like he had much to do, though. Any possible escape hindered by the fact he couldn't use his weapons unless he risks Jazz's life to one lucky shot. Perhaps he could make a run for it, knock through the mechas in front of him and let them tumble over as he reached the final exit; it wasn’t the best plan perhaps, with at least a 19% rate of success, given he isn't in the best physical state at the moment, he probably wouldn't be strong enough to knock them over. Added to the fact the exit wasn't shut by a gate he could simply knock over easily either, like the previous one. He'd have to push it open from the bottom, and there wasn’t enough time for him to act on it.
But he'd have his back turned to the shots, reassuring Jazz's own safety, so he could perhaps risk removing his servo to push the gate open once more.
With a quick warning from his HUD telling him his energon levels were getting dangerously low, Prowl decided to take the risk, with little time left, he took a step forward making a run for it.
The mechas seemed to ready themselves for his attack, quickly positioning their weapons to target him, closing any narrow space they had between each other.
What they didn't expect was for the mech to charge his whole body weight onto them. Despite not feeling any pain, they certainly could not fight against gravity itself. They all stumbled against each other as Prowl made a mad dash to the gate. He slid on his knees and made a quick reach for the bottom of the gate, anxiously removing his hand from over the cockpit, bending over protectively as to not have anything be able to aim inside.
He could feel his spark beating fast from anxiety, they were so close, they'll be able to leave soon enough. Jazz was most certainly having a good feel to Prowl's anxious beat, the loud thruming reaching the bot's own audials was most certainly deafening to the human sitting near it.
Then, a shot.
A pop.
A blinding light.
And the beat stops.
Jazz was curling in on himself as an instinct to protect himself from the sudden burst behind him. It only took a few seconds for him to realise what that was once he couldn't hear a single beat of a spark, or the burning sensation it left, feeling his own heart stop and drop to his gut.
It felt like the world around him suddenly stopped, everything going into slow motion, with no sounds to accompany the dread. Feeling as Prowl's body leaned foward to crash on the ground.
But just as quickly as the silance came, it left. Prowl catching himself from hitting the ground with a grunt, a slam could be heard as his arm and elbow made contact with the concrete floor. His spark beating, weakly, but beating nonetheless. What felt like hours of silance was only a quick few seconds of deafening dread.
"Prowl!" Jazz called out in desperation, reaching out to hold the edges of the cockpit, so not to fall out, but to also try and comfort his anxiousness as he tried to look up at the mech's face. The mech made a sound of acknowledgement, which came out more like broken static, but didn't make much effort to move, his face scrunched up in pain, optics shut. They shot him on his back, too close to where his spark would be, causing him to skip a beat, and busting a bit of his left doorwing, but it still seemed to function somewhat.
Suddenly, both of them picked up on the sound of something opening, giving no time for either to fully process what had just occurred. Prowl made a quick move to get his hand over the cockpit once more (with slight struggle as he stumbled and fell on his aft) as a thick metal slab emerged from above and beneath, right in front of the gate, shutting it close with a protective layer of metal. Guessing by the red alarm ringing around them, an emergency protocol to keep anyone from leaving. Slag.
The mechas surrounded them, guns all aimed to shoot at the alien mech if he didn't comply.
It was silent for a brief moment, in exception to Prowl's anxious beating spark (which wasn't a problem for Jazz at the moment, the burning warmth being somewhat comforting) and Jazz's own heart beating over his ears. Both catching their breaths.
"There's no point in fighting. So make this easy for all of us and surrender yourselves." A nobody pilot finally spoke out, weapon leaning a tad closer than the others.
The atmosphere felt heavy, they were pinned down. Really, the only thing they could do was surrender, but Jazz would sure as hell be reprimanded for his actions and Prowl.....he didn’t want to think about that. No, he wouldn't even allow that thought to become any sort of reality.
"Prowl" he whispered, knowing only the mech would hear him, leaning a gentle souch to his servo as if to beg, "I know you might not have alot of trust 'n me, but this might be our best shot." There was a tense shift, not too noticeble unless you could see the mechanisms from the inside, Prowl knew what he was about to suggest. "You need to let me pilot you." He cringed as he felt the other's servo stiffen, he wasn't pleased with the idea, and neither was Jazz, but he knew this place alot better than Prowl did, and knew how to properly defeat the mechas, knowing their weak spots. And Prowl was all too aware of that too, Jazz knew it. They both were very aware of it all.
"Please," he begged, leaning his forehead on the mech's servo yet again, "I can't lose you again." There was slight shift, Jazz looked up, though he obviously couldn't see the mech's face, the sigh he let out was loud and clear. The controls on the pilot's seat shifted, Jazz got the message:
'Alright'
He couldn't help but let a small smirk creep over his face, making way to sit down and start piloting.
"Under one condition though," Prowl suddenly whispered to him, though it was alot louder to Jazz on the inside.
"And what would that be, partner?" The title flew out too fast for Jazz to stop himself, feeling so natural to call Prowl partner once more. The mech didn't seem against it though.
"No removing my hand."
Jazz was left stunned for a quick second, though it felt like a minute for Prowl as he waited for a reply eagerly.
"I can work with that." Prowl let out a sigh of relief at that, allowing the human, his partner, to take control of him again.
It took a moment for Jazz to adjust himself, in the meantime, the people waited outside anxiously for the other to make a move. When Prowl finally started to shift around to stand up with a small grunt, everyone raised their guns and loaded them up, but didn't shoot just yet. The mech looked up at them with a deadly glare, but made no move to attack, his remaining arm not leaving the open cockpit for a second, he simply stood up with a slight slump to his posture, doorwings drooping down slightly. In all possible ways, he looked weak and defeated, no signs of fighting back.
One of the mechas walked closer, gun still aiming at Prowl, but it was lowered slightly. They reached a hand out expectantly.
"The pilot, hand him over." They demanded, no sympathy whatsoever.
Prowl clutched his chasis, anger pooling over in his spark, doorwings twitching up slightly, but he made no move to attack. Not yet. He heard Jazz speak to him in a low tone so only he could hear it, with a sigh, he relaxed. He slowly, very slowly, drew out his hand from the cockpit, the action in itself having the other mecha have their body relax slightly as they approached the mech, weapon being put down slightly enough, and so did the others around them. Jackpot.
Before he fully removed his servo, the mech made move to crouch down and in a swift motion swung a peed over to the mechas own, catching them off balance and knocking them down. Jazz let out a small hiss to the action, forgetting his own injured leg, but pushed on regardless.
Using the thrusters of his doorwings, they were able to balance themselves back up, Prowl's servo going back into fully protecting it's pilot once more. With most weapons being aimed up and not down, it took a delayed second to aim correctly, but it was enough time for the human and cybertronian duo to twist themselves out of harms way.
Before the fallen pilot could attempt to get up, Jazz made move to aim over the weak spot of their mecha's knee and stepped hard enough to break its mechanisms so they couldn't stand back up easily. But the glory was short lived as more shots were fired their way.
Jazz's hand twitched to move and use its weapons, but he resisted the urge with a slight huff, "Man, 's hard to fight without an arm!"
"This is none negotiable, Jazz." Prowl hissed as they made move to avoid more shots.
"I know, I know! Don't mean it makes it easier!" Jazz tried to analyse their surroundings, though it was made difficult with the many HUD warnings from all the injuries (the pilot couldn't help but mutter a broken "I'm so sorry" to his partner, whether the mech heard him or not he wasn't sure), but pushing through it, he took note of a few key details. There was a metal catwalk grate near above the mechas' heads, running with a few on ground troops, the bastard of a boss being one of the few amongst them. Near a corner stood an elevator to go up and down the area.
How that could help, Jazz wasn't sure yet.
A shot hit Prowl's arm, pain flowed through the mech as he moved out of the way once more. Jazz looked around in a frenzy to find a place to shield themselves....the mechas! Making a run for to the lifeless husks, he swivelled around between them and hid behind the many rows of mechas knowing full well that they would not risk such precious resource and money just to reach them. At least he hoped not, because he just needed a little bit of time to figure something out.
Hearing the big man call out to hold their fire was good enough indication that his idea worked.
"Ok, now we just need somethin' to distract them long enough for us to make a jump to the ceiling." Jazz explained
"The ceiling?" Prowl inquired, not so certain about his partner's ability to properly think at the moment.
Jazz rolled his eyes, but didn't make mention of the mech's tone. "It's the weakest point here, plus" he made way for Prowl to look up to where he remembered the area to be at, "there's a trap door for flying mechas and emergencies. One quick press of a button will open it up, even under "safety protocols."" Prowl let out a hum in thought, seeming to analyse the situation.
"Possible, but where is this said button?"
"Behind the elevator, by the catwalk grating on top. There's a control panel, and one big red button, can't miss it."
"Would smashing it still get it to work?"
"Yes."
"Then I don't have any complaints."
"Good, now," Jazz went back to scanning the area, "how to cause a distraction?"
"Would that broken pipe be of any use?" Prowl made an effort to twitch his head over to the direction of what he wanted Jazz to see. And just as the mech stated, there, by the first floor of the elevator, stood a broken pipe, steam coming out of it.
Jazz smirked "it would actually. If we can get somethin' to shoot at it, we might cause an explosion, giving us time to jump up without being the target anymore."
"Sounds like a plan." Prowl shrugged.
"Don't have anything to add?" Jazz asked a bit surprised.
"No, I don't." The pilot didn't push.
"Okay. Well, let's get these bastards shootin." In quick motion, they made way to the elevator, already hearing the commands to shoot fire, 'but watch for the machines!' Weapons were loaded from above as well, shooting down at the two runaways once again.
Jazz made sure to move swiftly behind the mechas, making sure they were shielded properly. Any gaps they had to cross was a small risk they needed to take, scrapes and scratches being left in its wake, but tried not to do it too often, just enough that they could follow them. They eventually reached where the pipes were, Jazz took a deep breath.
"Ready, big guy?"
"Ready."
They stepped foward, making sure to call the attention towards where they were, but quickly retrieting back behind the mechas suits as they shot directly where they wanted to hit. "Bingo."
Quickly, activating Prowl's thrusters, they leaped over to the metal grates that stood above them as the pipes behind them burst, causing a huge commotion as empty mechas fell down and whatever machine near the crossfire tumbled down. Prowl let out a gasp as he felt the world around him spin, the grating beneath them not being of any help as it shook with his weight. Jazz was quick to hold on, helping the mech stablise himself before aiming with his left foot to kick the big red button with their ticket out of here, the motion causing his vision to flash in pain, but he bit his toung until he could taste iron and pushed forward.
Hearing the metal door above them open up, Jazz readied himself, but hesitated with the warning he'd received from Prowl's HUD from his low energon levels. He didn’t even get the chance to fully check on it though, Prowl quickly pushing them out of the way himself.
"I'll live, just one more push." The mech hastily reassured the human. Jazz wasn't inclined to belive it though, feeling the other's spark beat anxiously (and for some reason that made him feel slightly dizzy. Though he chalked it up to it being his possible concussion).
It took one shot to slip an inch away from Prowl's face for them to finally snap out of it and jump. One more push from his thrusters as they flew up through the trap door and landed on top of the roof with a grunt, the mech's left wing finally giving out.
But they weren’t in the clear yet. Looking out, a wasteland of a forest awaited them, with dense trees at the bottom.
"We'll have to make a jump for it. If we're lucky enough the trees will be big enough to hide us." Jazz supplied.
"45% of that happening. But we don't have much of another option at the moment." Prowl added
With all that being said, Jazz moved into action. With so much at stake, he had to, he couldn't waste another second in debating. Hefting Prowl up, he used all remaining strength to jump where they needed to go, but as the training grounds began to get closer than anticipated, Prowl knew they didn’t make the jump and that made the mech almost freeze.
Though Jazz had other plans, because as their impending flat doom approached in rapid speed, Prowl's remaining thruster burst to life and gave that final impusle they needed to reach the slope. They both braced themselves as they were thrown up and over to their intended destination, Prowl having half a mind to tighten his hold over his chest so none of the debris and impact could reach the fragile human still in his care.
They rolled down the slope, Prowl just barely being able to shift himself so that he was sliding on his back instead. The aggresive motion of going down a not so smooth path causing bigger cuts and slashes against his already damaged frame. But the only thing he could think of at the moment was that they made it.
Jazz was quick to let go of his control over Prowl, who in turn made an effort to sit properly. Though the sudden slamming to his servo made him look down worriedly, moving it slightly to see Jazz leaning on it desperately.
"Prowl-" he heaved, "Prowl put me down I'm feeling sick."
The mech panicked and quickly made move to help the human down, gently placing him on the grass below. Jazz made no effort in being graceful as he hurled over and puked his guts out, luckily avoiding Prowl in all of this.
Clutching his stomach in pain, his heaving and coughs agitating the injuries on his abdomen. Everything around him felt blurry and muffled as his body made sure to get everything he had eaten in the past day out of him.
What made him panic was the sudden taste of iron in his mouth as he coughed up whatever he had left inside. That's not good. And that definitely didn't escape the giant mech's notice, who kept a hovering servo near him.
"Jazz! Is that blood?!" His voice sounded so broken, static lacing over his words.
"Uh- Yeah. Yeah it is." He wasn't sure how to deny that really, and he felt too light-headed to try. But his attention diverted to the sudden pink glow that landed at the side of his vision.
Energon.
Quickly looking up, he finally got a glance at his partner's battered condition. Energon leaked from many different parts of his body, but the main source being from his missing arm. Jazz couldn't help but cringe at that.
But what hurt him the most to see was the weak light from the mech's optics, which still held visible concern on them. Despite being close to going into offline, he still looked at Jazz as if he's about the crumble into dust and leave him. Which he honestly, maybe, felt like. But seeing Prowl's optics flicker as they fought to stay online, Jazz panicked
"What 'bout you?!" He called back, catching the bot off guard. "You're losing too much energon! You look like you're about to go offline!"
Prowl cringed a little, not having anything to counter that. "Well that's because I-"
"No! I'm only a little bit dizzy, but I'll live. We need to patch you up right now!"
"I can help with that."
The new voice catches the duo off guard, Prowl immediately reaching out to Jazz, hand shielding the human from whoever that might be. Jazz looked down from where he was looking at Prowl and turned to see who it was that the voice came from.
There standing in front of them was a human carrying a simple tool box and a huge backpack strapped over one shoulder, filled with questionable things.
---
BEFORE YOU LEAVE, a little something I would like to point out for the fic, that some of yall with either like or not, during the process of writing this, I've seen a few posts keferon made about the spark being radioactive and such, and it sorta made me think a bit while developing Jazz's condition. So well, take Jazz's health in this as you will with this info :)
But anyways, yippie!! That's all for today folks! I hope yall enjoyed this one bc I definitely had a heck of a time writing this one XD
It got alot bigger than I anticipated and took much longer to finish than I originally planned (was supposed to be done 2 days ago).
Now, I know I keep saying "not sure if I'll make another part to this" but then proceed to do so anyways. But I mainly do so because everytime I shared it someone said something that added to the story somehow and gave me ideas to continue foward.
So like, if yall liked this and wanna see more, don't be shy to suggest/add anything to this as it may help inspire me to add more onto this, cuz honestly idk what the fuck I'm doing rn, I'm just going with the flow ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
Also, a bit of note for the doodle, holy shit I did not expect it to look this good!! Tho I suffered with Jazz's suit, plz ignore any inaccuracies tee-hee. Prowl's knee and hands were hell too, especially his knee, but i could like, hide most of it lmao. Actually mainly struggled to not have his hand cover Jazz too much bc it kept covering the parts I actually wanted to show off lmao.
Oh and the guy at the end? Yall can take a good guess as to who it is :)
But since he doesn't have any official design, I kinda went with whatever felt right lol.
I also really wanted to draw out more scenes to add to the fic, but then it would take me a lot more time to actually post the fic as I figure out how to draw robots :'). But maybe I can try and doodle them out another time if I can, no promises tho-
#mecha pilot jazz au#oh god I'm so nervous about this one#i hope yall like it#and plz plz share whatever thoughts you have on this (as long as they're positive ofc bc my ego is very fragile YwY)#cake writed#yeah that's a tag now#cakes art#transformers#tf jazz#tf prowl#jazzprowl
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hi there! i'm OBSESSED with your eddie works and I had a lil request for u!
(if this is out of your comfort zone, I totally get btw, i'm just actually hormonal rn)
thinking about reader and eddie while she's ovulating and absolutely, positively feral... maybe they've only been together for a little while and they've fucked before, but he's never really seen that side of her... idk i'm just thinking a lot of thoughts rn
thanks! 💞
hi angel! thank you so much!!! 🥹🫶🏻 i hope i did your request justice 🩵
18+ only plssss. fem!reader, unprotected piv
The clock ticks obnoxiously where it hangs on the wall, marking each passing second that won’t pass fast enough.
It’s not unusual for a shift at the library to go slowly, but today time feels like it’s trudging through thick molasses; barely crawling by. Or maybe it’s just going backwards at this point, who knows.
You chew at the cap of your pen, reading the same sentence of the novel in front of you over and over yet not fully comprehending it. Trying to ignore the desperate ache between your thighs, the heat that pools in the pit of your stomach. It had been a relentless desire for the last couple of hours, a hunger that couldn’t be sated just yet.
But the promise of seeing your boyfriend after work had you chewing-through-your-leash desperate for your shift to end. You know Eddie had a nice dinner planned for the two of you tonight, but all you can think about is how badly you need his hands on you. It makes you feel bad, but you can’t rid yourself of thoughts of his lips on your neck, his fingers splitting you open, your hips grinding against him. This always happens when you’re ovulating, only this time… you’re not hiding it.
The last couple of times, you’d made do with your vibrator at home; embarrassed to let Eddie see this side of you. Your relationship was still quite new, and you weren’t sure if ripping his clothes off any chance you got would scare him away or not. This time, though? You can’t hold back any longer.
The end of your shift arrives at long last, and you practically fling yourself from your receptionist chair. You gather your belongings with haste, throwing everything into your shoulder bag before hightailing it out the door. Your keys jangle as you fumble with them, searching for the correct one to unlock your car. Eddie will be expecting you, although maybe not expecting you in the state that you’re in.
It doesn’t take long to get to the trailer park, your thighs pressing together in an attempt to provide even the smallest amount of friction as you drive along familiar roads. Your car is barely in park before you’re killing the engine, ascending the few steps to his trailer door and swinging it open without a knock to alert anyone inside. Wayne isn’t home anyway, so really what do you need to knock for?
Eddie’s frame appears in his bedroom doorway down the small hallway, his face brightening at the sight of you. You feel like you’re sweating just looking at him, your clothes suddenly too tight as the space between your thighs vibrates with need.
“Hey, baby. I didn’t expect you so soon, did you fly over here?” Eddie asks, a lighthearted joke, but he’s not far from the truth.
You don’t even answer him, slipping off your shoes before you’re trodding down the hallway, throwing your arms around his neck when you reach him.
“Baby, what’s—” he starts to speak, only for you to cut him off with a hot kiss to his lips. His voice dies against your mouth, fizzling into a soft whimper as you tug his bottom lip between your teeth.
“Missed you so bad,” you murmur. Your nervousness over how he’d react is tossed out the window, unwilling to wait any longer. “And I’ve been wanting you all fucking day,” you ramble, kissing him between words. “I need you,” you plead, letting a hand fumble with his belt buckle.
He makes a sound that’s halfway between a gasp and a laugh, kissing you before speaking. “Do you not want to go to dinner?” he asks, tilting his head slightly to the side.
“I do,” you admit with a pout. “But I need you right now.” Your hands are on a mission, palming him urgently through denim as if he might disappear any second, never to be touchable again.
The corner of his mouth twitches up in a soft smirk, his thumbs rubbing over your hipbones where his hands hold them.
“I’ve never seen you this needy, sweetheart,” he teases you, brushing his lips across the shell of your ear before he bites at the lobe. “But I like it.”
You whine at this, the slightest touch, and he breathes a quiet laugh.
“Please, Eddie, don’t tease,” you beg as he noses your chin up, kissing at your neck.
He doesn’t listen, taking his time trailing kisses down your soft skin and letting his hands wander but never close enough to where you need him. You can feel yourself dripping, making a mess of your panties. His big hands squeeze your ass, taking greedy handfuls. You let out a moan, louder than you’d intended, earning the nip of his teeth against your skin. Taunting.
You’re riled up, frustrated beyond belief, huffing where you stand before you decide you’ve had enough.
You press your hands to his chest, pushing him off of you. He’s surprised by the action, giving you the opportunity to grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him over to his bed and letting him fall onto the mattress. He sits on the edge of it, looking up at you equal parts dumbfounded and turned on. Your hands hurriedly undo the hefty buckle on his belt, unzipping his jeans as you start to straddle his lap. His cock is throbbing, leaking as it lays in waiting in your hand once you retrieve it from its confines.
“Told you not to tease,” you say. His big brown eyes roam over your face, his pretty lips parted just slightly in a state of awe. “I need you to fuck me. Now.”
“Yes ma’am,” he obeys, but it’s less him doing the work and more you taking control.
You ruck your skirt up, pushing the fabric of your panties to the side and lining yourself up with his cock, sliding slowly down onto the length of him. Your name escapes his lips as his leaves yours, already starting to rock your hips against his.
He holds you firmly in place on his lap, guiding your movements to the best of his ability. The stretch he provides you with is delicious, exactly what you’d been craving, the entirety of him filling you up perfectly.
“You’re so fucking soaked, baby,” he remarks, bringing one hand up to briefly run through his messy curls, his cheeks already flushed pink. “Feel bad you had to wait so long for me while you’ve been this worked up.”
He’s teasing you, kind of. Pitying you in a way that only makes you ache further. You bounce faster on him, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders. He’s cursing under his breath as you’re fucking yourself on his length, riding him with a fervor and determination he hasn’t seen from you yet. He finds it hotter than he’d have ever expected, seeing you in such a state, and it’s taking everything he has not to finish early.
Lucky for him you aren’t far behind, desperate to cum after waiting all day. He lets one of his thumbs lazily circle your clit, sensing your desire to let go in the way your brows furrow in concentration.
Strings of moans tumble from your mouth, curse after curse of his name as you quicken your pace. Your head tips back, pure ecstasy coursing through you as you take what you want from him unashamedly. The rough pad of his finger on your clit makes you feel like you’re on fire, ablaze beneath his touch. His hips buck to meet your bounces, the tip of his cock pressing over and over against your sweet spot.
“Eddie—” you gasp, just as you fall apart on top of him. Your walls grip him like a vice, making him bite down on his lip.
He works you through your high, pulling out when he can’t possibly hold off his orgasm any longer. He pumps his cock in his fist a few times before he spills against your skin, cum dripping down your pussy.
Both panting, sweaty messes, you meet each other’s eyes and laugh.
“Feel better now, sweets?” he asks, lips pressing against yours in a heated kiss.
You break away momentarily, cradling his face in your hands. “You have no idea.”
He smiles. “Well, for what it’s worth, you have permission to use me whenever you need me.”
“Thank god,” you sigh, smiling against his cheek. “Cause I don’t think I’m done for the night.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson fanfic#leah’s got mail 💌
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How would Spencer react to the f!reader eating a sucker in a very provocative way during a meeting?
I decided to change this up a bit. Rather than it being during a meeting, it's just randomly around the office because eating a sucker/lollipop during a meeting would be annoying af.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
How would Spencer Reid react to you teasing him with a lollipop?
Warnings: reader can definitely be interpreted as gender neutral because there isn't much description of them beyond their mouth (sorry if that isn't what you wanted lmao); this is very sensual/smutty toned (but there is no sex scenes); Spencer is thinking about sex acts/is having sexual fantasies about the reader; heavy sexual innuendo; definitely leans more toward Sub!Spencer; I was thinking of S4/S5 Spencer when I wrote this but you can imagine any Spencer; background Morcia; implications of Spencer masturbating in the bathroom at work. Reader loves teasing Spencer - idk what else. Not really proofread.
"Oooh, what's this?" You asked, walking up to see a large bowl of candy sitting in the middle of Morgan's desk.
"Leftovers from Halloween." Prentiss explained, not looking up from the file that she was reading. "Of course, Garcia put them on Morgan's desk. What was it that she said?"
"A little something sweet for my something sweet." JJ recited the words from her place at the coffee machine with a laugh.
"Oh, he is gonna love that when he comes in." You chuckled.
You knew that he wasn't going to eat all of it himself, and Garcia likely intended it as a pick-n-go for the office anyway - so you took a careful glance into the bowl and then picket an appealing round lollipop. A blow-pop, you quickly realized. Very nice. You knew the gum in the middle was crappy, but you would have fun seeing how long it would take to get to it, and it was cherry flavoured - one of your favourite candy flavours.
You grabbed it up and a few others to slip into your desk drawers, along with taking a few packets of M&Ms for your favourite desk neighbour. When you walked over to your desk that was in front of his, you tossed the candy so that it hit the front of his chest, and Spencer jumped violently, having been scared right out of his concentration from whatever he was reading. A thick academic paper, from the looks of it.
You heard Emily's nasel chuckle in from behind you at how hard he had jumped.
"Good morning." You greeted him with a wide smile as he glared at you, but took the candy and began opening it anyway.
"Yeah." He scoffed.
"You're welcome." You also said, nodding toward the candy in his hand.
"Did you know that M&Ms shortly after their creation, M&Ms were exclusively distributed to the US military during World War II as a part of soldier's rations?" Spencer stated, giving another one of his 'fun facts'.
"Due to the candy coating making them far less perishable, and far easier to transport due to the fact that they were less likely to melt. At the time, they were packaged in cardboard tubes and featured a violet colour among the candies. And that's how they became famously known as 'the candy that melts in your mouth, not in your hand'." Spencer explained, the last words becoming muffled as he stuffed some of the candy into his mouth.
"And now they have gone from feeding soldiers to being the breakfast of a skinny little genius like you." You joked, unwrapping your lollipop and raising it to your lips.
You were one of the people who joked about it, but you secretly loved the fact that he was skinny. You would never tell, but you imagined pinning him down and him not being able to get away because of his lack of muscle.
Spencer would have made some clever reply, but instead, his eyes became locked on your lips.
Watching your lips gently wrap around the roundness of the lollipop immediately sparked something in him. From that moment, his eyes focused on nothing but your mouth, and he absolutely lost all train of thought - including the fact that he had been reading something before you even sat down.
It wasn't even intentional at first. At first, you were just enjoying a random sweet treat at seven o'clock in the morning, going about small things like taking off your jacket and getting the files organized on your desk, and when you looked up to ask Reid if he had a spare red pen that you could use to mark off some things - that was when you noticed it.
That far off, glassy look in his eye that you had never seen before.
He was staring at your lips, hard, clearly not even realizing that he was doing it - at this point, the candy had just barely stained the inner part of your mouth red, and he was being driven insane, imagining himself running his thumb or even the head of his leaking cock along that spot, feeling the pure softness of your lips, having your sweet tongue reach out to meet the throbbing head of his-
"Reid?"
The sudden sound of your voice seemed to shake him from this daydream.
You pulled the lollipop from your mouth with a wet smack, and he swallowed a whimper - it was a sound so subtle that you wouldn't have been able to hear it if you hadn't been carefully listening. You clenched your jaw, suppressing a smirk. You didn't want him to know that he had been caught. Not yet.
"Um - ah - yeah?" He stuttered out, quickly looking back down at the papers in the middle of his desk, trying not to make it seem like he had been staring at you so blatantly.
"Can I borrow a red pen?" You asked, trying to give him your best look of feigned innocence as you placed the cherry red bulb back to your lips while waiting for his answer, gently tracing your tongue around it.
You loved the way his eyes clung to this action like a magnet, his own lips dropping open slightly as he let out a hot breath in awe, his pupils blown wide.
His pants were suddenly very tight.
Spencer had to purposefully tear his eyes away from your mouth when you began oh-so-slowly teasing the lollipop in and out of your lips, forcing him to perfectly picture the round head of his cock fucking between those perfect cherry lips.
He frantically looked around his desk, and grabbed the first pen with a red cap that he could find.
"Here you go." He mumbled, tossing it onto your desk, not even bothering to hand it to you.
He then grabbed his messenger bag from underneath his desk and so subtly placed it at his front while he scrambled off toward the bathroom. You simply let out a laugh and then shoved the candy into your mouth fully, looking back down at your files and getting to work.
Spencer could only pray that you would be done with the lollipop by the time he got back.
A/N: Okay this definitely turned more into the style of a blurb, but what I love about writing requests right in my inbox is that I don't need to do a super defined style, I can just write whatever comes off the top of my head and I don't have to worry about over-editing stuff. It's great for creativity and it's almost like a writing exercise? Anyway, I had a lot of fun with this.
Criminal Minds Masterlist
#sundrop writes#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#criminal minds x you#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic
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OT13 Reaction -- when you're injured
SCOUPS:
he's speeding you to the hospital no matter how small the injury is. will lowkey make a big deal out of something as tiny as a cut. scolds you for not telling him sooner and for putting yourself in harms way. coddles you once you're home, refusing to let you touch a single piece of housework. he'll mother hen over you for at least a couple days before he accepts you're ready to be independent once again.
JEONGHAN:
laughs. (im so sorry) he will 100% start cackling first before he asks if you're okay. makes fun of you as he takes care of you and reenacts the moment for your viewing pleasure. scolds you for being so clumsy and will baby you as you recover.
JOSHUA:
the type of immediately jump into action. the moment you cry out in pain or he sees you falling, he's by your side as if he's teleported. holds you as he checks your injury, fussing over it and asking if you need to go to the hospital. will take you anyways even if you say no. holds your hand the whole time. tells you to be more careful cause he doesn't like seeing you in any sort of pain.
JUN:
if it's a particularly funny way you injury yourself, he'll eat that shit up. is too busy laughing to check if you're okay until you start crying and he'll be like oh shit it's real okay let me lock in. extra attentive once he realizes its serious.
HOSHI:
the type to let out a loud scream when he sees you go down with an injury - you'd think he was the one in pain. he wants to help, he swears - but he's just as lost as you are. the only thing he knows is to take you to the hospital for professionals to help you since he can't.
WONWOO:
is immediately playing doctor with the random bits of knowledge he's gained on the medical side of tiktok (why he's on the medical side of tiktok idk). he's meticulous and precise with it, taking care of you like it's his profession. will crack a few jokes (albeit quite poor jokes) to try and cheer you up. reads to you as you try to fall asleep, his attempt at distracting you from the pain.
WOOZI:
realistically, woozi hears about your injury over the phone. he's at work in his studio cooking up another massive banger, and isn't fazed when he picks up your call. you tend to call him at least twice to make sure he's eating anyways. worried when you tell him what happened and asks if you need him there with you. either way, he's packing up to leave asap, no longer in the mindset to work knowing you're in pain.
MINGHAO:
if your injury was your own fault, he'll look at you like: (¬_¬") he's sighing at your clumsiness and you can hear the disappointment as he tends to your injury, all the while nagging about how you've got to be more careful. calls his mom to ask which herbal medicine will fix you faster - jokingly comes back with ginseng tea, telling you its to fix your clumsy ass brain.
DK:
screeches when he sees you drop. gags at the sight of blood. he approaches you slowly, hands shaking to check if you're okay. he's inwardly very panicked and lowkey not hiding it well. this wasn't in the boyfriend handbook! he's ready to be there for you though, cheering you up with funny anecdotes about him and the boys, doing his best to make you laugh through the pain. he will do anything you need him to during recovery -- just far from blood and anything icky that might come with it.
MINGYU:
lowkey probably the cause of the injury (sorry gyu stans, yk i'm right tho) he apologizes profusely, stating that he is 'just a clumsy big boy' and cannot help that he just has a rougher hand with things. makes it up to you with snacks, cooking and cuddles. allows you to use this incident against him till the end of time, although he gets sulky every time you bring it up.
SEUNGKWAN:
complains that he's got to take care of you but does it lovingly anyways. "i'm doing this cause i love you. you're lucky i love you or i would've left you suffering ages ago." gives you that signature seungkwan side eye if the injury was your fault. chides you to be more careful.
VERNON:
his first instinct is to ease the pain with bad jokes. will ask you if you'd wanted it to happen 'is this the result you wanted, baby?' and will quickly stfu when you glare at him. follows your orders on how to take care of you cause he's lowkey very lost. puts on a movie once everything is done to help you relax and to take your mind off the pain.
DINO:
ya'll 100% were doing something stupid and got injured together. dino has that 'you say jump, i say how high' energy, and you're definitely both in pain because one of you was doing something for jokes and the other joined for fun. takes care of you while complaining about his own pain. is a big baby when its your turn to take care of him. tells you to never bring this up to his hyungs or else he will never hear the end of it.
#seventeen ot13#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#seventeen imagines#svt#svt imagines#svt fluff#seventeen#seventeen blurbs#scoups x reader#jeonghan x reader#joshua x reader#jun x reader#hoshi x reader#wonwoo x reader#woozi x reader#the8 x reader#dk x reader#mingyu x reader#seungkwan x reader#vernon x reader#dino x reader
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NCT Dream getting pussy drunk [M]
ღ NCT Dream all members x fem-bodied!reader ღ genre: smut reaction ღ warnings: none
Author’s note: idk, i just had this idea last night and it had to get out askldöfjkdas
Mark:
doesn't get pussy drunk all the time, but when he does, it happens quickly
it's more likely when he's actually drunk
like that one time you're sitting on his face, your front facing his body, and the second he dips his tongue into you you can see the bulge in his pants growing
a few more licks and this guy is almost fully hard, that's how much it affects him sometimes
has his hands all over you as far as he can reach - like he just got that much more needy
hums at your taste and could cum from that alone, while he's desperate to figure out where to best hold onto you
has you falling apart on top of him eventually, and will get even more eager with his face still burried in your pussy if you start getting him off too
he's whining at all the sensations coursing through his body now, and you bet this guy is gonna cum within a minute
but even then he still needs to taste you, so you can be sure he won't be satisfied until he's made you cum a few more times
Renjun:
doesn't get pussy drunk easily, so when it happens for the first time he's so embarrassed afterwards???
like he does not know how to process the way he acted when he felt this carnal need to taste you more overtake him and cloud his mind
does everything in his might for just one more lick, and if you're feeling playful this might just be the best chance you could get to make him beg
he seems like a completely different person all of a sudden, grabbing onto you desperately and wanting nothing more than to bury his head between your legs
pure ecstasy running through his veins when he feels you clench around his tongue, almost crushing him in between your thighs when your high crashes down on you
he can't think straight at this point, all he knows is he needs more, and he needs it now
Jeno:
he just will not let you go when he gets pussy drunk, whether you're lying beneath him or are on top of him, riding his face
this guy holds you close with all his strength because he might just get addicted to the way it feels when you cum on his tongue
and maybe you should be grateful at this point that he doesn't get pussy drunk all that often, because you're in for an intense ride
loves the power he has over you when he overstimulates you, and will only give you space to breathe when it's apparent it's getting too much for you to handle
otherwise he'll just keep going, his tongue greedily fucking one orgasm after the other out of you until you're nothing but a whiny, shaking mess
though once it dawns on him what kind of state he just put you in, he'll suddenly become very soft, and he'll make sure to give you all the aftercare you could ever want
Haechan:
gets pussy drunk so easily, it happens almost every time he eats you out
like this guy just can't get enough of you, and there's just something about him having his face buried between your legs and your taste on his tongue that drives him crazy instantly
but most of the time he won't make sure you can't escape him, he might whine a little, but otherwise he'll just hope you'll let him have his fun for as long as possible
really he just wants to please you, and your taste drives him insane - he's way too in the moment to think about what may or may not happen even a second from now
and it just makes him soooo horny too
if you let him he will certainly start touching himself too while eating you out, but he won't permit himself to cum before you aren't 110% satisfied first
Jaemin:
I'm convinced this guy gets drunk on you in general, so imagine what it'd be like if he's pussy drunk on top of that
this is definitely gonna trigger both a very caring and a very possessive side of him so you're in for a ride...
gets pussy drunk fairly often though, so he's learned to keep himself in check most of the time
intense eye contact as he eats you out, his hands on your hips to keep you in place
he takes pride in knowing he can drive you crazy with just his tongue, though he will eventually add his fingers too to get you from one orgasm to the other
so soft when he lets you rest in between, asking if you're okay and if you want more (no matter how much he needs to taste you more, he won't rush into more than you can handle)
and then when you give him the okay he's eating you out like there's no tomorrow
starts slow and builds up his pace just right, because this guy has spent countless nights studying your reactions to everything he does to you to make sure he makes you feel as good as he possibly can
Chenle:
doesn't get pussy drunk all that often actually
but when it happens you will know
strikes me as the type who has fun teasing you and getting a little rough with you, so usually he'll make sure to keep you in place as he gives you the bare minimum just so he can get the gratification of hearing you beg for him
so when he suddenly goes super soft after finally letting you cum on his tongue you don't know what's going on for a second???
until you see the look on his face and hear him asking you if you want more in the most caring tone ever
it's clear a switch inside him flicked, and now all he wants to do is please you and take care of you, all thoughts of teasing you long gone
that doesn't mean he won't have you seeing stars in no time - he still knows what he's doing and he's doing it well
it's just that instead of being a little shit, he'll simply continue eating you out until you're a shaking mess underneath him, however long it'll take him
Jisung:
gets pussy drunk so quickly, he won't even know that he is when it first happens??
all he knows is that you taste so so good and he could spend forever eating you out and-
it'll dawn on him only wayyy later what just happened, unless you point it out to him
will simply keep going when he's reached that state, following only his urge to taste you more
is gonna make you cum on his tongue and then immediately continue - only when you start squirming and whining from the overstimulation does he stop for a moment
checks in on you, and when you tell him to slow down, he's trying, he's really trying, but you just taste so good, how could he not become a little greedy?
only when you suggest riding his face instead, so you could control the pace better, does the overstimulation fade into pure bliss
and this guy here too couldn't be happier, like he's just in heaven the entire time, wanting nothing more than to eat you out forever
#nct dream smut#nct dream reactions#nct smut#nct reactions#mark smut#renjun smut#jeno smut#haechan smut#jaemin smut#chenle smut#jisung smut#nct dream x reader#nct dream imagines#smut#reaction
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Welcome back! So happy to see that you are doing well ☺️
Since requests are open, I was wondering if you could write some headcanons/drabbles about how the Genshin men (including Pierro, Capitano, and Dottore my fave) would react if their darling, who was pregnant with their child, tried to run away? Saying "I refuse to raise my child with a monster like you!"
what it takes to love | various yandere! fatui harbingers x pregnant reader
content warning: mentions of blood, idk if childe's being sorta trad or not but I'll still put it here. I'm also a bit rusty so they might be ooc...
a/n: definitely not a drabble... I hope you enjoy!
CAPITANO
with the newfound knowledge that you were gone, the captain was on the way home.
there was not a lick of hesitation, no, he dropped everything. your leaving meant you were alone on a cold night while pregnant. who knew what trouble you could be in?
the captain knew you couldn't travel far-- it was too dark, too cold. all that surrounded the manor was woods and woods. he made sure to wear his thickest coat and brought with him his weapon in case you were in true danger. he saw your footprints in the snow, it looked as if you were stumbling about in the cold.
Oh, poor you.
this isn't how things should be-- you, running about at night without him there to protect you. you should be in the safety of his arms, in the walls of his manor.
he wouldn't try to further frighten you, that must be why you ran, no? he would place his coat over you and take you home with him.
following those footprints, it seemed you tumbled and fell a couple of times. you couldn't possibly be in a good state. (y/n)... where could you be ?
"(y/n)," the captain called out. he saw you, your cowering form, pressed against a tree, using one of his coats you'd taken with you to warm yourself, "oh, (y/n)."removing his coat, he set it over your shoulders and lifted you into his arms, expecting you to comply.
"no! st-stop. let me go, i... I'm fine!" you'd argue, though, it seemed you were in no state to.
"(y/n), no," the captain shook his head, trying to keep a gentle hold on you even as you squirmed and argued, "you're tired- you don't understand what you're saying. I'll be taking you home."
"i know what I'm saying," you shook your head, pressing your hand against his mask, attempting to push him away, "i don't want to be with you or near you! l-let go of me!"
the cold must be getting to you, capitano reasoned, who knows how long you've been out here? you're clearly not in your right mind. pressing a hand against your cheek, he felt your skin, he felt how cold it was. you needed to be home and in bed. "hush, you're delirious. (y/n), stop fighting me, i need to bring you home. you're harming yourself *and* our child."
"let go of me! stop- i refuse to raise my child with a monster like you!"
his hold on you loosened-- he was stunned, caught off guard. a monster? his hand gripped at the fabric of the coat over your shoulders, "is that truly what you think of me?"
you hated him? that was why you ran? "(y/n)," the captain repeated, his grip on the coat lessened, "answer me. is that what you think of me?"
do you understand how that makes him feel?
it's not as if you always thought this of him, this was a recent development. after getting pregnant, he was... more protective. he took extreme measures to keep you home, to "keep you safe."
it drove you mad.
so, when you woke up one morning to see that all of the house staff, including your maid that you truly loved, had been replaced-- you knew you had to leave.
"yes, yeah..." you nodded, a stray tear running down your cheek, "so, let me down- let me go," you demanded once more, squirming, trying to get away from him once more.
capitano raised his hand and wiped away that stray tear, "(y/n), do not say that-- not to me, not to my face," his hand dropped back to his side. he needed you home with him, now.
and that need was stronger than any other feeling he had at this very moment.
holding you against his chest, trying to keep you as warm as possible as he worked on getting you home.
he needed you back home; whatever happened afterward could happen, as long as you were home with him.
DOTTORE
how things seemed, you enjoy causing dottore problems.
if you weren't knocking his vials over, you were barging in on his experiments, and if not that, you'd rejected him when he expressed even the slightest bit of affection.
it was always something with you.
and now, on his day off-- on the one day when he had nothing to do and nothing planned, you ran away, or at least you tried to.
dottore refused to let his good day be ruined by something so trivial, so he took precautions.
knowing you, you would do something so he prepared for just about anything you could do.
just about anything... well, he didn't expect you, a pregnant woman, to attempt to jump out of your window to get away from him.
he heard the tell-tale shatter of glass and just knew it was you-- it was always you. he begrudgingly got up from where he was resting and went to your room, where you were halfway out of your window, bloodied from the broken glass digging into your skin.
dottore sighed, "goodness, (y/n)," dottore was approaching you and you could hear him coming closer, so, you tried to lunge yourself out of the window, to get away from him-- to protect your future.
pressing your hands against the sides of the window, you pushed yourself forward, slipping out of the window, but, of course, dottore caught you by the ankle just as you were falling.
you wasted not even a second before you began screaming and swearing at him, trying to squirm out of his grip, "let me go! let go-" you kicked at him as he dragged you back into the room.
once you were in, lying on the glass-covered floor, somewhat numb to the pain, dottore stood somewhere near your side, his arms crossed over his chest, looking down at you. he was disappointed, but why?
"don't... lie in the glass. (y/n)..." he sighed once more, and reached out, grabbing your arm and helping you stand.
it was then that he assessed your injuries, asking that you stand still as he looked at your bloodied arms and torso area-- it was painfully cut from the glass.
*you must be in pain, no?* dottore mused, straightening his back as he looked at the thin layer of blood coated on his fingertip, "I'll forget about this-- I'll even forgive you for... attempting this," dottore assured you, holding your arm as he began to guide you out of your room, "I'll forgive you, i just ask that you never attempt such a thing again."
but... you refused, tugging your arm back and out of his hold, "Don't touch me-- i don't *need* your forgiveness!"
you'd never hated him quite as much as you did after finding out that dottore had no problem with experimenting on children that the knave gave him.
it made you sick. you couldn't allow your child to grow up with a man like him, "i *refuse* to raise my child with a monster like you."
dottore's eyebrow twitched, though you couldn't see it. he thought he knew what to expect from you, but, you always surprise him, "a monster? can you genuinely call me such a thing after all I've done for you?"
when you nodded, dottore stifled his third sigh and brought you along with him, despite all of your arguing and fighting. "(y/n), you're hurt. let me clean those wounds of yours. since you cannot accept my forgiveness and let this go, we'll have a talk tomorrow."
dottore cared for you, of course, he did.
he realized just how much he cared for you-- just how much he needed you when he felt his heart drop at the sight of you trying to leave.
he understood just then how much he'd hate it if you left him.
a/n: lowkey ooc...
PIERRO
escape was impossible.
with guards at your door, and all around pierro's manor, you couldn't escape.
but, when pierro found out that you had still tried to leave him-- attempting to walk right out the front door, dressed as if you had places to be, he was displeased.
he was immediately informed of this.
so, as you tried to open the gate that was locked, pierro approached you, "(y/n), where exactly are you going?" he asked, stopping to stand right behind you, "it's cold, and you aren't dressed for the weathers condition... ah, aren't you supposed to inform me of where it is you want to go before going?"
pierro knew exactly what you were doing but for you, he could play dumb. it was better than making you feel cornered and possibly upsetting you further.
he could change, he wasn't above it. after all, there weren't many things he wouldn't do for you.
he held his hand out for you, hoping you'd take it, hoping you wouldn't give him trouble-- not now, not when he was in such a generous mood.
you didn't take his hand, no, you weren't even looking at him as you said, "I'd like to go... I want to stay with my family."
your family? pierro felt his eyes twitch-- he wouldn't allow himself to be seen as the jealous type, no, pierro instead nodded his head slowly, "why don't we go back in? it's terribly cold tonight, is it not?" he'd tried to change the subject, try to ease you back into the house without an argument.
"no, uh... I've got a ride. i just need the gate to open."
pierro saw and understood what you were feeling perfectly-- desperation. "we can talk about this tomorrow, no? it's late, (y/n), im not particularly in the mood to be standing out in the cold while you talk about leaving me."
"pierro- im leaving... I'll send you letters and I-I'll even come to visit," you offered, taking a step towards the gate, looking at the lock, that stopped you from leaving.
"no, no, (y/n), you aren't leaving, at any point. how ever you feel, I'm sure you'd feel better if you spoke to me about how you feel-"
"i want to leave because i dont want to raise my child with you."
first, you cut him off, and now you say this? "you're being very rude-- now, we're going back inside. do not argue with me," pierro took your hand into his and began to guide you back toward the manor.
"no! let go, stop it!" you would drag your feet, crying and arguing, "I don't want to be here! not with you! st-stop it! let me go!"
it saddened him, truly, to hear you cry and beg so desperately, but those words rolled off of him. he didn't care at the moment; he just needed to get you back into the manor, and whatever happened after didn't matter.
he'd have a talk with the guards too.
"You're so evil! let me go-! let me be!" you'd argued, dragging your feet, attempting to make things harder for him, "i refuse to have a child with a monster like you!!"
you couldn't imagine raising a child in this environment, in the fatui...
pierro stilled, glancing back at you, his grip on your hand tightened-- then immediately loosened, "you're testing my patience, (y/n). please, just come inside with me. we can talk about this inside."
because there were fewer places to run inside.
(y/n), you truly are a work of art, pierro mused, as he dragged you along, well, he attempted to be gentle but you were making it hard for him.
but since it was you, he'd do anything, even tolerate your rude behavior, since you were his woman and his alone.
CHILDE
when childe found you, whenever that was, there was no telling what could happen or what he'd do. he loved you, that much was obvious but he was an impulsive guy.
maybe he'd take off his coat and put it over you-- you'd like that, wouldn't you? or maybe, just maybe, he'd hug you out in the blistering cold until he felt good enough to release you... which would be near to never.
or maybe he'd react in anger. again, he loved you, it was inconsiderate, rude even, to leave him while you were pregnant with his child. didn't you promise to start a family with you? (he misheard you. you said you didn't want to start a family with him.)
he wouldn't let his anger get the best of him, no. he was better than that-- he was raised better than that. yeah, he was raised better than that.
childe raised his hand and wiped at the tip of his nose, he was cold. he couldn't image how you'd be feeling right now.
that was all more the reason to find you as soon as possible!
he took this journey alone. he thought it would be somewhat intimate if he found you on his own, it would be manly too-- you'd think he's the type of man you want to raise children with... that's what he thought anyway.
you got a bit of a head start on him, he had just gotten back to snezhnaya when he was informed that you had run off a few hours before he'd gotten back.
oh, he was worried. real worried.
he forgot everything he was planning to do-- eat, change into something warmer, brush his hair, those sorts of things, he forgot all about. you were more important!
before running off, you were staying with his family. it was probably easy for you to leave, just say you're going for a walk and never come back, since his family didn't exactly know all about your relationship with him and how he sorta smuggled you into snezhnaya.
he got home and followed after your footprints for a good while. the sun was setting, and it was only getting colder; at this point, you were probably regretting leaving him and wished to be at home in his arms-- that was just an assumption, of course.
when he finally saw you, in a thin dress and coat, stumbling up a snowy hill, he smiled. (y/n)! its (y/n)!
oh, he felt so relieved to see you!
running past all the bushes and trees in his way, he ran straight into you, hugging you tightly from behind, his hands on your pregnant belly.
"are you hurt anywhere?" that was the first question he asked as he turned you to face him, patting his hands over your arms, checking for any signs of blood on your or your clothes.
he leaned in once again, hugging you after being sure you weren't injured, and his second question, asked in a muffled voice by your ear, was, "What'd ya go running off for?"
"because I don't want to have a child with you."
huh, it seemed childe couldn't hear all of a sudden, as he released you from the hug and slipped his coat off, tossing it over your shoulders, "bet you're cold, huh? now, what'd you say?"
"i do not want to have a child with you."
again, it went through one ear and out the other for childe. he wasn't hearing things right, he couldn't be, could he? "huh? what was that?" his eyebrows raised, and he leaned closer, gesturing for you to repeat yourself once more.
now annoyed, you leaned closer, saying, "I'm leaving you because i dont want to have a child with someone like you."
he straightened his posture, backing away with a less-than-happy expression-- he looked defeated. so, he was hearing things right, huh...
"we gotta see it through... y'know that, right?" still holding your hand, his grip loosened. childe had never felt quite so... sad? angry? betrayed? before.
"no, we don't. I want to go back home, I'll see it through with my famil-"
"we are family," quickly cutting you off, he corrected you, his fingers tensed around your hand, "I'm your family-- everyone back at home is your family. we're your family so why are you trying to leave us?"
he bit at his bottom lip as a means of stopping it from quivering but you could see the tears in his eyes.
"are you kidding me? you forced me to be here with you! you think i came here willingly or someth-"
"you promised me we'd make a family together! you said it yourself, so, why're you acting like you hate me?" his hold on your hand tightened, and he leaned closer to you.
he was desperate-- he didn't want to hear this! not from you, not from anyone he loved, but especially not from you because he didn't just love you; he loved you.
attempting to tug your hand away from him, you shook your head, "I never said that, ever. let go of me- i wouldn't... i refuse to raise my child with someone like you!"
everything he thought knew and believed came crumbling down around him, " oh, well... i don't care," he replied-- he had abandoned his feelings for you, for now at least, he just needed to get you home without harming you, "I love you and... I guess, sometimes that's all that matters."
you could figure it out later-- you could learn to love him later but he loved you now and couldn't let you go so easily.
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