#it’s why he still feels like a main and not a side even so many years later
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my biggest problem with hazbin hotel writing after everything
guys do you notice how badly vivzie doesn't want to directly mention the theme of morality?
its always there, it flashes everywhere but she chooses to walk on edges. the redemption, extermination, falling in hell, god we literally have hell vs heaven war with these themes. and after everything the question "is this the right thing to do?" just exists like small stream of wind.
never in the show charlie asks herself "is my redemption plan is right?" she should know that there are very bad people who can also badly hurt others because she is there for a long. but this knowledge never brings up and we have to accept the fact that charlie is just an infantile and too stupid to comprehend evilness despite also knowing what good means. its really weird how the princess of hell who should already know the hellish history and society acts like she for the first saw someone like valentino being evil. SHE DIDNT LIVE FOR LONG IN HEAVEN (what could explain the blindness towards evil nature), SHE LIVED FOR LONG IN HELL, FUCKING HELL. how after many years she cant deal with the evilness of her people and instead just believe in a power of friendship? WHERE SHE WAS SO SHELTERED TO GET THIS MINDSET IN THE END?
its very weird how every theme that is revelant in this show, is literally connected with defining good vs evil BUT vivzie never, never makes us think about that. we just should accept the writing telling us what happened is good or bad, or even worse, doesn't matter and it was just for funnies (like that rpe joke with Sir Pentious).
the reason why this morality thing got in my mind is that im afraid what season 2 brings to us. im afraid that they will never mention elephant in the room: possibly irredeemable people. and hearing another doubtful information makes me scared that viv goes to the route "actually, there is no evil people and it just fault of some metaphoric disease that makes people evil!". and im very afraid of this happening in the future because it seems to be that everyone just ignores the existence of Irredeemableness. like doing evil doesnt really matter and there is just winners/losers side of history.
for some reason Sir Pentious in the past got in hell because of him ignoring the situation. let me mention he is the first to be ascended of all sinners and this backstory makes him pitiful for a reason. of all backstories, they chose the most depressing one. where he is a shut-in who had no will to change the inevitable situation. bro do not tell me you didnt do this to make another point of "innocent sinners"
emily. if not for emily, i wouldn't writing this. she is the angel version of charlie who also promotes "sinners deserve redemption" but also ignores existence of serial killers, rpists and another kinds of "that evil" people. the same problem charlie has but i can understand it at least.
I am not scared for saying this. viv seems to be not mature enough to even explore the concept of her show if she is afraid of exploring complete monsters (like exploring undoubtable evil AND NOT MAKING IT CONTROVERSIAL LIKE WITH VALENTINO AND ANGEL) and just stays on the line "of pure good (every main character) and wrongful revenge (VVVs, Adam, Lute and other exorcists, not gonna be surprised of Lilith adding to this group)".
of all characters, i only feel sympathy for lute (and also sir pentious with how he was handled throughout the show). sera was just stupid and wanted bloodshed because of her special placement in an angelic hierarchy. i dont believe this bullshit of her caring about well-being of her people when she went with extermination as it was nothing. all she should have said is that there are very horrible people and hell is not worth of being a threat to her lovely power. well, they didn't go for this route for some reason. now sera got in wrong too and she got in the first group with everyone.
TELL ME
TELL ME WHY NO ONE STILL POINTS ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM AND WE JUST ACCEPT THAT HELL IS JUST MISUNDERSTOOD
This is why I only care about Lute now because she is the only who has brain to acknowledge that there's monsters in hell
im so done with this show bro
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5, 8, 50!
5. How do you like your eggs?
In an omelette, with peppers, onions, ham and/or sausage, and cheese. Being able to go get an omelette at the dining hall afterwards is the only thing keeping me motivated to go to my stupidly early meeting. I also like them scrambled but I'm a bit pickier about the texture in that case.
8. Do you collect anything? If so, what?
The main thing I purposefully collect are pins, enamel and otherwise. A lot of them live on my denim jacket, but I actually have more pins than can fit on there at any given time. Here's the current state of the collection:
Most of the ones that don't live on the jacket are either too fragile, too large, tend to come off too easily, or I just don't like the design as much (the latter I keep around to swap out with the pride pins when I go visit my parents). A lot of the medium circular buttons were freebies from the library, and a lot of the others were bought from local artists— if you're curious about where I got a particular pin, let me know (in a reply/DM) and I can try to dredge up a link if it's one that I bought.
I actually want to do a lot more to this jacket— because I usually wear a backpack I can only put pins on a limited part of it, so I want to start making/collecting patches to put everywhere else. I have a few already and I've bought materials for a large back patch, but haven't had the time to actually put it together. I also want to acquire some Disco Elysium-related pins or patches, but I haven't found any that really vibe with me yet.
50. Describe your perfect sleeping conditions.
The only thing I really need to be able to sleep is a very dark room— as little ambient light as possible. Beyond that, I generally prefer a room that's on the colder side, so I can fully hunker down into the comforter, but not so cold that I need to wear socks or add an additional blanket (too many layers of fabric starts to bother me, I sleep in just my underwear for the same reason). I sleep best when I'm alone (which is how I almost always sleep, not entirely by choice), and I don't usually sleep with stuffed animals unless I'm feeling particularly lonely that night. If we're really talking ideal sleeping conditions, then I wouldn't have an alarm set, and I'd have a solid hour or two of time after I wake up to dick around on my phone until I'm ready to get out of bed.
#answered asks#also an interesting jacket digression:#this denim jacket is my main jacket for 3/4 of the year- usually for when it's ~40 degrees and up#for the colder months I've been wearing the bomber jacket that I got for my kim cosplay#(black side out because I feel intensely self-conscious in the orange. almost like it's designed to be highly visible or something)#(which you could write a whole character analysis about why he wears hi-vis all the time but that would be a digression to the digression)#anyways#even though my friends like the bomber jacket- I'm pretty meh on it when I'm not wearing it for cosplay#putting the denim jacket back on when it got warmer made me realize that it's because it fundamentally doesn't feel like my clothes#because I guess in a way it isn't#I just think it's interesting because that notably doesn't apply to the pants I bought for the same cosplay#which I love and feel cool as fuck in them whenever I wear them#idk#unnecessary digression is unnecessary#also let me know if you need alt text for the pin photo#I usually try to add it where possible but with this one there's just so many pins I'd need to describe#I'll still add it if someone needs it though
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2023 reads / storygraph
A Crown So Cursed
conclusion to the Nightmare-verse trilogy, a YA urban portal fantasy
follows a Black girl trained to fight nightmare-monsters in Wonderland, to protect the people of both worlds
but the nightmares start coming for her in the real world - at a convention, and even her own home, and the crew have to prepare to fight a greater evil tied to Wonderland’s past
#A Crown So Cursed#aroaessidhe 2023 reads#a strong conclusion it's fun I enjoyed it overall!!#I know I shouldn't be surprised but the casual mention of metal detectors when they go into the convention at the start.......#the twist about her family was interesting!#my main gripe is like. I have never been into her love interest being a whole ass grown man!#like hes an entire adult technically as old as her grandmother#I guess I appreciate that it’s sort of a side thing; but.....#This book makes it VERY clear that there’s big crushes/attraction between her and haruka#and also addison has a male ex & they realise they very explicitly still have feeling for each other in this one.#and…….it just doesn’t sort of address that at the end?#like it’s clearly intentional; why not have them have even a brief discussion about it. polyamory babey.#I think if it HAD been explicitly brought up at the end I would have been a bit more cool with her and addison;#since that would have removed the sort of endgame-generic-relationship-monogamy-together-forever kind of assumption yknow..#I dunno. Not to say that I think things need to be spelled out - I think many people can read between the same lines I am right now#but like. It just felt like an obvious thing to have a conversation about somewhere in there?#idk!!#that it a relatively minor thing; it doesn't greatly effect my overall feelings about the series it's just. odd#bisexual books
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Bobby Singer needs to be in #SPNwin.
Like, seriously, he’s one of The Most Interesting Characters. He’ll always be a main to me, because he’s not straightforward.
He’s got that warring, contrasting nature. That seesaw-soldier thing. He’s complicated and loving and and yet…he screws up royally. He does what he thinks is right, is necessary.
He can be hot and cold and sweet and vengeful and respectful and encouraging, and then he goes and throws down these misogynistic little digs. Every feminine thing gets spit on; turns into a barb. And yet it’s not a barb. The teasing is somehow warm n’ homey n’ familiar. You decode its true meaning.
And…he’ll break the mold with soap operas and pedicures. He’ll cook for you in his little kitchen. He can spit with words, but accepts with his actions.
He goes from love, “do you value yourself so little?” to, scoffing, letting you down at your most vulnerable moment: “you’re not a person.” (Because sometimes, he thinks tough love will carry you through and help you survive.) He a rocky foundation but he’s a foundation.
That’s Bobby!
#bobby singer supremacy#tfw key traits#bobby + real#bobby + flaws#bobby + real flawed reactions to the pesky business of living and loving#tfw + soldierhood#tfw + the imperfect self#spn parenting#bobby is dean’s parent#bobby is a well rendered character because of these contradictions#it’s why he still feels like a main and not a side even so many years later#spn + main character mechanics#bobby + mary parallels
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Day 2 Meeting a new family member and Wire
“My brother has moved to Gotham and I intend to visit them tonight as Robin.” Damian announced as everyone began to eat dinner.
“You have. A brother?” Tim haltingly asked as he looked at Damian.
“Tt. That is what I said. I advise not attempting to contact him unless he invites you into his home.”
“Damian. Why didn’t you tell me you had a brother?” Bruce asked.
“It was irrelevant. Danyal is older than me and had been deemed a failure by the time Mother and Grandfather decided to make me. I had been under the impression that he had been disposed of. In a way, I suppose he was, seeing as he was placed in the hands of some scientists who worked for the league.”
“But he’s back. Do you know what he wants?” Tim asked as Bruce disassociated.
“He would not go into detail but it seems that the scientists who raised him have found a purer and more radioactive Lazarus water. It is why I am meeting him tonight so he can turn over the more sensitive information without the league hearing about it.”
“Damian.” Bruce started before rethinking what he was going to say. “I would like to come with. He may be your brother but he is also an unknown.”
“I am aware Father. That is why I am telling you now. You cannot come with me but I will stay in contact and keep the com channel open throughout the entire exchange.”
“I would still prefer”
“Father. You will not come with. Danyal has expressly forbade you from meeting him.”
“That makes this even more suspicious! If not me then at least bring Dick with you.”
“Richard is in Bloodhaven and will not be able to get here in a timely manner. I am going alone.” Damian said before standing up and walking off.
“Damian!”
“Give it a rest B. He’s on a mission and I have a feeling he’ll go alone no mater what you say. If anything we could try to tail him but I have a feeling he’ll be on the lookout for that.”
“Hn.”
👻🦇👻🦇
“Akhi. You have fortified this place well.” Damian complimented as he walked into the office of the warehouse where Danny had made his base. It had been years since Danny had looked into the child that was meant to replace him after he failed one too many missions for Grandfather's liking. But to see that his little brother had managed to escape the league made Danny’s core hum happily.
“Thank you, Dams. But we aren’t here for pleasantries.” Danny said as he walked over to the single desk in the room and pulled a thick file out of one of the drawers. “In here is a brief rundown of the Fenton's research as well as a law that has recently passed that is in violation of”
Before Danny could finish talking there was a loud crash and a string of expletives.
“What the fuck! Who puts two wire traps mere inches from each other!” The voice shouted before the sound of a body hitting the floor. A few moments later the voice started yelling again as they fell into another trap.
“A friend of yours Dams?” Danny asked while he watched the door.
“A member of our family. Unfortunately. I had told Father not to come and I was hoping the fact that it was in Crime Allie would discourage Drake. I had not counted on Father getting Todd involved.” Damian sighed before walking over to the folder.
“As long as he does not wake up the littles I could care less. Perhaps we should help him out?” Danny asked. Not noticing Damian’s head snapping up to stare at him.
“Littles? You did not inform me of anyone else.”
“Hm. Long story short? You are an uncle to two little ones.”
“ALL RIGHT! WHO SET UP ALL THOSE… Demon brat. I should have known.” Red Hood said as he barged into the office. Causing twin crys to echo from a door on the opposite side of the main door. “Are those?”
“Yes, and your entrance has just woken up my kids. Dams? I have also left a number in the folder if you need to contact me. I will be off now.” Danny said as he began to walk towards the door the cries were coming from.
“There is a family brunch every Wednesday at ten in the morning. I request you to be there so that I can meet the new members of our family. Father would also like to meet you.” Damian said while ignoring Jason’s stuttering.
“I will think about it. Until next time Dams.” Danny replied before disappearing through the door.
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Daitou I love you but I'm going to date your dad
Hah, you have no idea how long I waited for someone to point it out. Although he’s probably for seasoned dilf lovers, given he’s rapidly approaching 50. I still feel like Boss has his own kind of charm, you know?
Yan!Yakuza Boss is the oyabun for one of the biggest Families in Japan. One does not easily reach that kind of prestige, not without a lot of power, charisma, and influence. In his case, it was a combination of raw strength and mad stubbornness that gained him a dedicated following.
You see, there's a particular reason why he adopted Daitou years ago. It wasn't necessarily out of a kind heart, even though he is known for picking up rascals off the streets. The simpler truth is that he saw himself: A misunderstood boy with violent urges and no place to go.
It's easy to see why Boss is loved by everyone. He's less of a leader, and more of a fatherly figure who is ready to fiercely protect his underlings at any moment. His reckless outbursts have turned him into an underground myth of a man who escaped death one too many times. Each scar tells a story.
Despite his tumultuous, bloody past, Boss has always been a cheerful individual. Ridiculously so. When he'd gotten his left arm amputated, he returned to the office the very next day with a smile on his face. "What's with those sad mugs? Told ya I was going to lose some pounds!"
One thing he's never had time for is romance. Hard to juggle a partner when you have a bunch of rowdy criminals under your care. Now he's close to retirement and would prefer to settle down, yet, in his words, "who's gonna care for an ugly old man"? Sure, he'd love a partner to spoil and protect, but he ain't dumb. He sees it everyday, how the civvies cross to the other side of the street, or offer him a deep, fearful bow before scurrying away. No one messes with a yakuza boss.
Except one day, his Daitou shows up with a foreigner youngster behind. The new tenant. He's rather fond of your nonchalance and carelessness. It takes someone mad to casually hang out with the yakuza, and he loves it.
"(Y/N), was it? It's a rough neighborhood you just moved into. You ever get in trouble, just give me a call. I'll personally handle it! Heh, what's the matter? You think an oyabun just sits on his ass all day? My fists will get rusty if I don't throw them around every now and then. Let an old man practice, won't ya?"
[Main Story] | [More Yakuza]
#yandere yakuza#yakuza x reader#eiji ichiji#yandere x darling#yandere#yandere x reader#older yandere#yandere scenarios
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JEALOUS, JEALOUS GIRL!
pairing: true form! sukuna x concubine! reader | synopsis: the king brings a girl and it just makes his favorite so jealous! | warnings: double penetration, sukuna 2pps, creampie (?), teasing, switch, lots of kissing, m receiving (blow job), biting (slight?), porn with plot (?), not proof read properly! chi-list
"I'm a jealous jealous jealous girl, if i can't have you baby, no one else in this world can."
you were trapped in this endless circles of boredom since the king left for a trip to China to meet its emperor, it's been months since he left and you missed him so much, you were left with uraume, they're fine to be with, but they're too busy to talk to you, too busy to make small talks. you were completely bored to death, until one day uraume happily announced that the king is coming back, "really he is?" you asked happily shaking uraume's shoulders. your endless circles of boredom will finally come to an end!
"yes, how many times would i have to repeat it for you?" uraume responds with a frown, removing your hands from them.
you were over the moon! you twirled around like you were a teenager getting her allowance
"the kinggg's finally baackk~" you hummed skipping towards your room.
evening rolls by faster than light, you heard the temples heavy doors creeping open, and the king's sorcerer murmuring "Sukunaa!" you yelp, running carelessly to the main entrance. you saw sukuna being escorted by the gaurds, sorceres and servants, you and uraume bowed your heads as soon as you saw him after passing the two of you, you looked up, with your eyes shining as bright as the northern star, smiling from ear to ear. until, you noticed a unfamiliar face, walking behind sukuna a woman who's about your height, brunette hair tickling down her shoulders, wearing a black and red kimono just like yours, but yours were adorned with gold roses and the red fabrics of your kimono were much more bolder than hers, your smile completely dropped as you saw sukuna's hand resting on her head, ruffling her hair, and she seems to love it, your eyebrows were quick to frown as you saw this gesture, you glared at sukuna and the girl with full of...jealousy. you knew that you weren't in the place to feel this, but still.
you learned that her name was qika, of course from uraume, they know everything about the lord's activities. qika is from China, she used to be the emperor's main whore, but the emperor gifted her to sukuna, because she is the only one who knows how to speak Japanese.
"it's pronounced as: i-ka" uraume says, carrying scrolls full of jujutsu in their hands, "anyways, why are you asking and aren't you supposed to be at the dinning room now?"
you rolled your eyes "I don't want to.." you clicked your tongue, "the lord's gonna be upset if you're-" "i do not care uraume" they raised a brow hearing you raise your voice, "are you jealous?" you rolled your eyes and walked out, striding straight to your bedroom, you didn't ate dinner that night you were too upset that the lord brought a concubine even though he could've just declined the offer.
"bullshit" you sighed softly laying in your bed, as you realized that the lord hasn't called you to get to his chambers. you let out a heavy, heavy breath as you rolled over to the other side of your bed, grabbing the soft pillow close to your chest hugging it tightly with a sour look in your face, when you were about to fall asleep, you heard lewd moans and squelchs from the other room, sukuna's room; your eyes shot open as soon as you heard it, 'fuckkk!', you could only thought to yourself as you sit up leaning on your bed's headboard, while you hear them fucking non-stop. "aaa my-my lord!" the woman yelps, you could only roll your eyes and do nothing about it,
you clicked your tongue; pulling your blanket on top of your body, then falling asleep eventually.
after that you were avoiding him the next day, depriving him even from your glance and presence always occupying your schedule with tons of other activities, you were lonely and fucking jealous, as he spends time with his "new favorite concubine", you could only clench your fist and frown your eyebrows, giving qika and sukuna dirty looks, sometimes even mocking qika for her forced voice while working with uraume "awh thaynk kyu my lowrd" you cursed under your breath, "did you said something?" uraume inquired "huh? no what did i say?" you respond with a defensive tone.
sukuna noticed that you were avoiding him. avoiding him in the hallways, dinning room, throne room literally every where, not batting a care for his presence. though, even if you were a brat, he let's you slide, you're still his favorite after all.
"let's see how long that brat's gonna take it. " he thought to himself. and boy oh boy he didn't expect to see you this fucking desperate. maybe he should make you jealous more often.
you're now on top of his lap, with his half naked body, his broad muscles flexing, as you stare at him intently, you just wanna smack that stupidly handsome smirk he has on his face, for fuck's sake you to do that immediately.
"trying to top me? hah...go on princess, I'd like to see you fail, yeah?" he chuckles leaning on the bed's headboard, as you stare at him with lust and desperation in your eyes, he laughed, "did you heard me and that girl yesterday, are you jealous?", he doesn't even know her name... "were you thinking of me while you were fucking her?" you spat back, grinding on his clothed shaft, he paused, in fact, he was thinking of you- , you glide the tips of your fingers on his markings tracing it gracefully you tilted your head to your left, "I'll take that as a yes. can she take you whole? can she grip your needy cock like i do?", you spoke. "cocky aren't you?" he grunts in respond while clenching his jaw, his lower set of hands creeped to your hips, squeezing it like it depends on his life, you continued to tease him, peppering his chest with sweet kisses, he threw his head back as your kisses travelled down to the mouth on his belly, you gave him a quick kiss as you proceed to his clothed cocks, you rubbed his cock slowly with his undergarment on, you held his clothed cocks on your tiny hands while locating the tip of his cocks, he lets out another grunt, placing one of his upper set of arms on your back as the other covered his face, he might not last long, letting you top him, but he loved seeing you on top of him with your alluring demeanor and dominant side it's just different, he threw his head back once more as you took one of his clothed cock into your mouth, as you circled the tip of the other cock with your thumb.
the king lets out heavy, silent grunts as you gave him an unbearable pleasure- to make it worst the fabric on his dick gave so much friction, enough for him to cum sooner, even though he tried his best to deny his climax, he failed miserably as he paints your pretty mouth with his thick cum, while his other cock spurted cum all over his mattress and yakuta, you snickred "what a mess" you glanced at sukuna with flushed face with his hand on top of his lips "bet she can't do that huh?" , his hands still lingering on your body, you smirked before untying your kimono, letting it pool down on the mattress, "you're such a fucking tease aren't you?" he grumbled, while you took his soaked yakuta off his body throwing it across the room, his cock is still hard, even after cumming, "f-fuck" he murmurs as you aligned his cock on your entrance, while you align his other cock on your ass, "you sure you can take all of me?" he let's out a whimpy chuckle, cupping your waist with his large hands, you didn't respond, you were too focused on proving him wrong and that you're better than qika. she was never better than you. you slowly put his cocks in you, your lips gapped as you take him whole, a string of saliva connecting your lips as you whimpered, your gummy walls swallowing him instantly as you collide your hips to his taking him full, from base to tip sukuna swore you almost made him whimper, you paused for a moment before moving your hips- you placed your hands on his chest as you bounced lightly on his cock, with every bounce sukuna tries his hardest to not let a single whimper out off his mouth, he bit his lips so hard it started to bleed, you watched his blood drip down to his chin, you sucked your lips between your teeth before licking sukuna's blood and latcing your lips to his, before letting out a giggle "ooo c'mon cursed king, don't hide those pretty moans, pleasee. for me?" you teased "s-shut up" he babbled as his hands support your hips from bouncing, you'd giggle on his grumped scowl while he throws his head back on the headboard, you could feel his pre-cum dripping from your pussy mixed with your arousal. you continued to bounce on his dick, you'd whimper every time his dick hits your g-spot you nuzzled on the crook of his neck bitting it, out of pleasure, while his cocks penetrate your tight holes...you can feel your climax brewing in your adomen, your bounce getting sloppier as your cunt drip uncontrollably, "hah-mm fuckk..!" you moan as you feel your climax creeping closer, sukuna's cocks throbs with every whimper that came out off your mouth. "fucking woman," sukuna growled, before pinning you down to the mattress "i should make you jealous more often, huh? "he adds putting you in a missionary before tucking your hair to the side so he could see your beautiful face, "you're so fuckin' gorgeous when your jealous, turns m-me on s-so damn much" sukuna grunts without missing a beat as he feels his climax near.
your gummy walls sucking him in with every thrust, your nails scratching his biceps and back, knuckles turning white as you grip the sheets of the mattress, while sukuna buries his cocks in you- "mfmmgh-" you whined before cumming all over his cocks-
"that's right, fucking cum on my cocks...h-hah-"
sukuna moans softly before nuzzling to the crevice of your boobs, snapping his hips to yours once more before reaching his climax, you could feel his cum oozing out off your pussy and ass, the both of you were catching breaths while sukuna's cocks is still intact, he does his final thrust fucking back the cum that oozed out off your cunt and ass, your toes curled while your eyes rolled to the depths of your skull, goodness...
"I'm getting rid of that girl, I'll get uraume to get rid of her... jealous brat."
a/n: idk lmaoo... Don't ask me why i named the other concubine "qika" i just want it to be different and unique haha, i kinda have a neutral feeling abt this cause whenever i proof read it, it sounds cringe and yuckie I'm not good at writing... anyways does anyone wants to be my anon/mutual?
#haruchi-slit#jjk#jjk smut#haruchi slit#jjk headcanons#smut#jjk polls#jjk smau#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#sukuna x concubine#jjk ryomen#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen smut#ryomen x reader#idk just dont flop pleasee
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Late Cravings : ̗̀➛ George Russell
summary: what baby wants, baby gets, even if she does want it at 3am, much to george's dissatisfaction
You barely managed to walk through the door before George appeared in front of you, his eyes were wide as his hands held onto your arms, studying you closely before closing the door.
“George, at least let me get in,” you told him, being directed by his hold. “What’s going on? Why do you look so scared?” You questioned, sliding your shoes off and kicking them to one side.
It was only once George stood still that you could see how nervous he looked. His heart was racing as he finally let you go, brushing his hand through his hair as he took a deep breath, taking a moment to pace and compose himself a little bit once again.
The fear of stirring in the night and not feeling you there brought a terror that George had never experienced before. He had no idea where you were, terrified that one of his worst fears during your pregnancy had come true.
“Where were you?” George frantically asked you, “what sort of person just gets up and leaves the house at three in the morning without telling anyone where you’re going first.”
You felt guilty as you heard the panic that was still in George’s voice, encouraging him to take a seat beside you. Your hand rested against his leg, assuring him that you were there and that you were safe.
Your free hand reached into your bag and pulled out what you had bought on your late-night adventure, with George’s eyes watching carefully to see many of the things you’d been craving in front of you.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about these and I knew I wasn’t going to sleep without getting my hands on them,” you told him, ripping open the packet of crisps you’d bought.
“But I could have gone to get them for you, all you had to do was ask,” George groaned, staring across at you as you placed a crisp into your mouth, throwing your head back in satisfaction.
The thought of waking George did cross your mind, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it, he was peacefully sleeping beside you and you didn’t have the heart to disturb him.
“You were asleep and with how busy you are you need to rest as much as possible,” you told him, I wouldn’t have gone if I didn’t feel like I was up to it George.”
George’s head nodded, he understood where you were coming from, knowing that you wanted to remain as independent as possible, but even by his standards this was a stretch too far.
“I could’ve sat in the passenger seat and slept,” he suggested with a smile on his face, “at least then I would have known exactly where you were.”
“But you know where I am now, that’s the main thing, right?”
George’s eyes narrowed on you, as safe as you were now, half an hour ago he was worried that it was going to be a whole different story.
“I wish you’d tell me when you’re planning on giving me a heart attack,” George joked.
“It’s all part of the fun,” you argued, resting your head down against George’s shoulder as you continued to eat. “You know I am just pregnant though George, I’m not incapable.”
Whilst George was overprotective, you were a little carefree making the two of you a little conflicted. George wanted to know every last detail while you tended to not tell him much about what you were up to, confident you could still take on the world, even if George was a little more doubtful.
“Maybe going out so early in the morning wasn’t the brightest idea,” you reasoned, much to George’s delight, “I suppose I could have sorted out my cravings in a little bit of a better way.”
“I know how you get when you’re craving though,” George mused, “if there’s one thing that I know about you it’s that you definitely get whatever you want when you’re craving.”
You nodded in agreement with him, you were determined with everything that you did, but now you were more determined than ever to do as much as you could for as long as you possibly could too.
“I don’t mean to constantly be on your case,” George told you, kissing against the top of your head. “I need to remind myself to trust you more, to know that you know how far you can push your body.”
“I wouldn’t do something if I couldn’t,” you assured, “and as much as you might not believe me, if I need help then I will ask you for it George.”
The corners of his mouth slowly turned up, “I know you will, and I’ll always be there whenever you need me to step in and help you out.”
“That’s why you’re such a fantastic husband.”
You weren’t oblivious to how lucky you were to have George by your side doing absolutely anything that you needed. He was beyond excited to have a baby, wanting to do as much as he could to help both you and the baby out, maybe sometimes a little too much, although you knew George always meant well.
“I draw the line at three in the morning,” George then spoke up, sending you a knowing glance. “It’s dark outside and you can’t see where you’re going. No craving can be as important as keeping you safe in conditions like that.”
“I was driving and my lights were on.”
“Still,” George sniggered, dismissing your protests. “From now on if you need anything in the night then you can shake and kick me awake, regardless of how sleepy I might look beside you.”
Your eyebrows raised as George spoke, “I can kick you?”
“That’s the bit you focus on,” George grumbled, rolling his eyes at you as you threw your crisp packet into the bin. “You got anything else in there, I’m hungry now after all the energy I’ve just exerted panicking for you.”
“Are you pregnant and craving?” You asked him as his head shook. “In that case then you get nothing, these are mine and mine only.”
You reached forwards and opened up the packet of sweets that you’d bought, taking one out. Luckily for George you reached across and popped one of the sweets into his mouth, much to his delight. You leant back against his chest as you started tucking in, his arm wrapping around you.
Despite the way his heart had raced just a few minutes earlier, it was a lot calmer as George noticed the content smile now on your face. He knew that pregnancy was far from easy for you, trying his best to understand your mood and emotions as much as he could.
“Maybe we should stock up on some of the things you crave,” George suggested, watching your eyes light up. “You know like how people how emergency rations; we could have emergency cravings.”
“That might not be the worst idea,” you agreed, “but only if you agree that they’re for my cravings and not for you to keep tucking into.”
“You know what my appetite is like, when there’s food in front of me then I’m probably going to eat it.”
“Think of it like this, would you deny your child food if you ate the food that is kept in the cupboard for them?”
“Oh wow, now that is the ultimate guilt trip.”
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
#f1#f1 imagine#formula 1#george russell#george russell imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 reaction#formula 1 x you#formula 1 fanfic#george russell x you#george russell x reader#george russell drabble#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 fic#formula one#f1 drabble#f1 fluff#f1 x you#f1 fic
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THE THINGS HE TAKES FOR GRANTED
in which he takes a moment to justify himself after never noticing your little crush for him
starring. akaashi keiji x fem!reader
genre(s): angst to fluff, (super, like-) long scenario
warning(s): none, i think so? except for clueless keiji and not proof-reading
author’s note: akaashi is just a major green flag in this (every haikyu!! boy is 😭) i feel too bad to write them red-flag-y.
choose your character: m. atsumu | k. akaashi
you’ve known akaashi for quite some time, starting from your last year of fukurodani academy and then serendipity brought you both ended up being each other’s classmate at a same college/university. bokuto kotaro was your best friend, the little owl introduced his favorite setter to you and the friendship of three gradually become established, and as if it can not be any more inevitably, you eventually developed a secret admiration for the pretty setter when you three have been closed enough. however, graduating separated ways, kotaro pursued his journey to become professional in volleyball while keiji, once said to you he wanted a place in the literature department.
truth be told, even if you promised each other you would still keep in touch and plan every weekend friend group meeting online or offline, you’ve never expect you would share every class in higher education life with your crush, the akaashi keiji. the great thing is you both are paired up for an presentation assignment in the major you and him pursue, you do have plenty of time to stay close and grab his attention from making gestures that he usually failed to realizes.
here you are again, happily humming your favourite song while carrying a box wrapped with a small detailed towel, some big rolls of assignment paper stuck underneath your arm as you make your way back to where you both planned to finish the project - the library.
“keiji, i’m back!” you set your things respectively on the table, and akaashi nods with a smile on his face in acknowledgement.
“oookay, so here’s your today’s snack, I hope you’ll like it” you grin, tapping on the box before pushing it to his side as he receives it and casually opens it while speaking.
“hmm? are those sketches of our poster? you can always edit them on the computer, why the effort?” he chuckled softly before completely unwrapping the bento box.
“I’m not good at designing and stuff. I may draw as I like and you’ll be the one to edit it on the computer.” you puff your cheek out, hands resting on hips as you watch his reaction to your delicately decorated sweets in the box made for him.
“this looks amazing.” he smiles upon seeing the pastries you made, decorated beautifully with different kinds of fruit as each pastry has different flavours, you probably did not stay up so late last night just to make all kinds of flavours for him to show how much you like him. yeah, probably not.
"oh, it's nothing, I just hope it doesn't taste bad" you chuckle nervously while scratching the back of your neck, letting his praise send you up to cloud nine.
your actions falter when you see akaashi put back the box's cap on, set it aside as he leans over to reach the posters you drew.
"now then, can we start working on the project?" he spreads out the piece of paper, glancing at you as you stand there awkwardly, prefer him taking a bite to look through all of your efforts than just shrugging it off and go straight to the main part of your study session.
"what...? oh- um..." you trail off, a bit embarrassed. "wouldn't you like to try one out? it won't hurt to just have a taste of it..."
"maybe later, y/n. we have other things need to be done right now." he merely states, eyes study the poster in front of him, unknowingly sinking your heart.
"yes, right." you shift slightly, taking the sit by the opposite of him, trying to catch up with him on the progress.
you let your mind wanders off how many times you've lost count already while akaashi quietly focused on scribbling something in his notebook, every thoughts you have are always about keiji, your feelings and the stare you give him thinking it's discreet. what's stopping him from trying my tarts out? and how does he feel being around me? or is that his way of rejecting something without making that person feel bad? flooded your mind.
"y/n?" you realize his faint voice ringing somewhere "y/n..." the voice becomes clearer. "earth to y/n, you're staring." awh, snap. right.
you blink, startled before clearing your throat, mumbling a small apology as you try to get yourself busy with the work underneath you once again.
but akaashi just chuckles, his voice calm and reassuring.
"hey, you seem off today. it's lunch break, please make yourself comfortable." you fumble at his words, it's noon already? as he collects his books and tidy it up at one corner of the table before speaking again.
"yuri satsuki is inviting me to have lunch with her. would you like to also join? i think she wouldn't mind." he kindly offers, probably not knowing the words struck you shocked.
you know satsuki-senpai, she's a year older than you and has been a social butterfly ever since you set foot in student life. she is a nice person, you conceived, but not until you found out that she has a huge crush on your akaashi keiji, her behaviour in your eyes became somewhat annoying. in return, she did realize she had a rival to win over him, you acknowledge that through the smug look she gave every time akaashi was around her instead of you, that is how the tension gradually builds up between you and your pain-in-the-ass rival.
and now she's even invited keiji for lunch? you feel an uncomfortable twist in your belly, screaming that if you do not take further actions, you lose akaashi to her. but his way of discarding your hard work, also known as an attempt to get his attention earlier discourages you hastily. this comes to a realization: ever since he start hanging out with satsuki-senpai, he has never touched one of your cooks once.
"no, i'm fine staying here. you go" you force a smile waving him goodbye. he hesitates upon seeing the downward trend of your mood as well as the strange attitude every time he brings up yuri.
"what are you waiting for?" you scoff, trying your best to make it sound not so bitterly. he nods quietly before ruffles your hair, thoughtfully remind you to get something to eat before start working again, and he'll be back with you soon.
you groan for the nth time in thirty minutes since his last leave, deciding not to eat anything at all after you laugh bitterly to yourself seeing the bento box laid cold by his stuffs which corrects your thoughts that he is not going to appreciate what you did for him.
the chair scraped the floor when you stand up, attempting to compose yourself when you feel your brain need a break from overthinking such situations.
on the way out of the library, your eyes meet yuri satsuki's, assuming that keiji is just somewhere around here as his lunch break partner is the person you least excited to bump into.
"well, well. isn't that the girl whose best friend choose to hang out with me instead of her?"
excuse me?
"don't get too ahead of yourself, satsuki-senpai. just a friendly reminder" your tone evidently irritated as you flash her an unamused smile, trying to avoid her as soon as possible.
but the radio scene of her voice replayed all over your head, your mind goes muddy despite the fresh air you're trying to take in, you let out a shaky breath, tears brimming out.
maybe, he doesn't quite noticed the things I did for him after all...
---
"you're back. where were you?" akaashi worried tone surprises you after a quite fine time of trying to find you because your study desk in the library was empty.
"i was... out for fresh air. why?" your voice is off and he noticed that. he always knew when something is bothering you, and right now he definitely know that something is wrong.
"after i finished my lunch i got yours, 'cause i know when i'm back you would still hadn't eaten anything." his brows slightly furrow seeing your avoiding attitude.
"thanks, keiji." you said briefly, take the package from his hand and sit down on your seat, never forget to notice the pastry box still intact.
your strange attitude didn't just stop there, it confuses akaashi for a more couple of days of your avoidance, he dislike the way you put a small distance between you both in study sessions, you flinch and tense around him more often, your answers and conversations are brief and sometimes awkward as you seem to be more preoccupied and attentive rather than to communicate with him.
"good morning, y/n." he smiles, your state has been bothering him for days as he is paying attention to your fade grin and a small "hey" as a greet back.
then he fumbles. something is missing...
oh. but then, realization sets in him quite quickly: you didn't bring any homemade sweets today.
"y/n..." he hesitates, meeting your eyes as you lift your head up from the notebook you're scribbling on. "does your home perhaps... out of ingredients or something?"
you are stunned for a moment, knowing exactly what he was trying to imply, scared to look at him directly in the eye as you shift your gaze elsewhere, pretending to have forgotten.
"oh... you mean the pastries... I forgot to do it. I was busy yesterday"
lies. he see through it, you know that, but you can't just blurt it all out that you're heartbreaking because of his indirect rejection that never says he doesn't like you, but makes you feel like it did.
"hey... i know something is wrong, can you tell me what it is?"
there it is - the worried look on such handsome face that never fails to make your heart flutter. but you know, that is just his nature of being an attentive and thoughtful person, not just for only you, but for everyone in his orbit.
so his question remained unanswered.
akaashi has been extremely distracted due to the sudden lack of your affection on him. it's just doesn't feel the same. even if he refuses it but deep down, he misses your midday snacks, your bubbly laugh around him and that flushed cheeks you wear every time he caught you staring. it has been a whole week since, and the fact that you didn't join the friend group video call with bokuto last sunday was his last straw.
he misses you, dearly. and if he doesn't do anything now before your project is finished, he might find it difficult to approach you even when you are his best friend.
and then, on an another lovely morning in the college's campus, an emotion he thinks he's aware of stirring in his stomach at the scene of you handing out a bento box wrapped with the same detailed towel, a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips as the other boy laughs lightly, scratches his neck, sending regards with a polite bow before making his way back in the classroom, akaashi doesn't like what his eyes have witnessed, so when he met yours, the bitterful look sends shivers down your spine.
you turn away, begin to walk, you do not want to deal with your bothered heart right now, not if it has anything to do with him, with that thought, you choose to neglect it because it is just your one-sided feelings for him.
but you hear footsteps behind, next is a small "wait" escaped from his lips when he managed to catch up and hold gently on your arm. that stopped you midtrack.
"please. can we talk?" he pleads.
---
you find yourself trapped by his presence in a corner of the school's library. there's no point in avoiding now.
"i'm sorry." he states. "i like you, i should've known."
your eyes widen. why- all of a sudden?
akaashi glances at you, softly sighs before bring your hand up to his face and kiss your knuckles gently.
"i understand now, i was clueless, you have the very right to be mad at me." each sentences he speaks crack your heart, but at the same time, they give you hope.
you neither know how to react, nor what to say, you just stand there, completely speechless, it encourages him to continue his speech of pursuing you.
"the last time i went to have lunch with satsuki, she confessed to me." he stopped, watching your expression. "but i turned her down, then, she got angry and started to brag about you. i did not like what she said, so i got quite defensive and... that was when i realised."
"i didn't know when it started. i just knew that i didn't feel very comfortable seeing you bringing your pastries that was meant for me to someone else, and more it's because i didn't appreciate it."
he squeezes your hand, afraid if not, you'll slip from his grip and become somebody else's apple. he certainly dislikes the thought.
"i want your pastries back, i love them as much as i love you. please let me correct such a terrible mistake."
---
"yes, hello. i've received the box, thank you, my love."
akaashi spins his office chair slightly, softly speaking to the phone stuck between his cheek and shoulder with a smile while unwrapping a huge warm box of freshly baked tarts.
"keiji, bad news, i'm out of powdered sugar after that batch." your voice echoed on output, he chuckles.
"are you free after work? we can visit the supermarket to purchase some. i'll drive, consider this a date with me, 'mkay?"
© 2024 dreamesamu. all rights reserved.
#i'm back people#txt submitted !!#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#haikyu x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu angst#haikyuu!!#akaashi keiji x reader#akaashi x reader#akaashi fluff#akaashi keiji#haikyuu akaashi#hq akaashi#akaashi angst#akaashi keji x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyū!!#haikyuu hurt/comfort#haikyuu fic#haikyu fluff#haikyuu time skip
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DC x DP: Magic Older Brother
It happens the day of his high school graduation because Casper High is cursed, and the curse personally targets Danny. Danny doesn't care what anyone says. He will die on that hill.
The school is cursed, which is why he turned into a halfa in his freshmen year, throwing his life into chaos all throughout sophomore and junior year, and now that he was finally leaving it, this happens.
An attack by a ghost he has never seen or met before. She calls herself "Lady Gotham," and her name doesn't hint at her power or obsession, unlike other ghosts.
He finds it rather rude of her to burst the graduation ceremony just as they called his name.
Danny knew he could take her- she felt more like a city spirit than a ghost, which means she was terribly weak against Phantom- but with so many witnesses, he hadn't been able to transform. Instead, he was blasted with black tar paste that reverted him to the age of ten, and while he stumbled on tiny legs, she took him and threw him into a portal.
He had attempted to shift into his ghost side as soon as he landed, but something was anchoring his core. It felt like he had been hit with the Plasmius Maximus- his powers were out of reach.
He would not be able to take her in a fight after all.
Thankfully, she had been distracted by his parents attempting to rescue him, so she got trapped on the other side of the portal. Still, he felt it would be safer to get as far away from the random field she kidnapped him to before she could return.
So he was running in an unknown storm, to an unknown location from an unknown city spirit instead of having his graduation party with his friends and eating cake.
"Casper High just couldn't give up even on the last day," Danny grumbles while running through the pouring rain of a terrible storm, trying to see through the water and the howling wind. He was drenched head to toe in the water, and he could feel even his bones shaking. He hasn't been this cold since the day his Ice core materialized.
Up ahead, he spots a building. Praying they will take pity on him, he pushes himself to go faster until he's at the door, banging on it with his tiny fists.
"Is someone there? I need help!" He yells as the wind picks up again, almost throwing Danny off balance. "Open the door, please!"
The door cracks open, and one tiny blue eye peeks up at him briefly before it swings open. "Come in! Hurry!"
Danny doesn't need to be told twice as he all but throws himself into the giant building, away from what he is starting to suspect is a hurricane. He turns around to find a little boy- he couldn't be older than nine- struggling with closing the garage door. Danny is quick to help him, and together, after tucking and grunting, they get it shut.
"Thanks," Danny says trying to gather his breath. He glances around, startled to see he's in a big fancy house that reeks of money, maybe more than Vlad or Sam. It is also deadly silent and bare as if someone only attempted to make it look lived-in but forgot to get humans.
"Don't mention it." The kid says almost under his breath. Danny would think of him as shy if the boy wasn't staring at him without so much as blinking.
Kind of creepy.
"Are you here because of my poster?" The kid asks, and Danny has no idea what he's talking about, but he's not about to make the creepy kid angry.
"Sure am."
The boy beams. "This is the first time anyone has responded! Come this way. I have everything in the main ballroom!"
Danny follows eyes taking in all the tasteful decor of various cultures and the complete lack of any other person present. After getting stranded, he found a mansion tucked away from human contact in search of shelter. Strange how that has happened to him twice
The boy leads him to two large double doors which he proudly opens up with a loud "Ta-da!"
Inside the ballroom are rows and rows of bed cots, blankets, and pillows. On one side of the room are tables with water bottles, bowls of snacks, and even little goodie bags. There are board games on a nearby table and clothes folded neatly in various sizes. Next to the tables are piles of teddy bears.
It looks like a movie set of a makeshift shelter that could easily fit a hundred people. Again there is no one else but them. Double creepy.
The boy skips between the first two cots, gesturing to the room. "You're the first one here, so you can first pick! I have board games, food, and clothes for you to burrow at the front if you want! I'm sure we'll have more people soon if you come!"
Danny offers the kids a weak smile. "Thanks."
"You're welcome! I'll go wait for everyone at the door. You make yourself comfortable."
While Danny cautiously explores, the kid races back to wait at the door for who knows who. The first thing he does is change into a warm set of clothes- picking a grey set of sweat pants and long sleeve that fits his tiny limbs. He grabs a water bottle and a bag of chips before his eyes land on a pile of brightly colored posters, likely forgotten on the table.
Strom Shelter for free at Drak Mansion
Everyone Welcome!
Sleeping, clothes, food and entertainment are provided!
Kids are invited to Tim Drake's birthday party on the same night!
Doors open at 5pm.
Oh gosh. Oh no.
He looks around the completely empty room and, for the first time, notices a small corner with a very sad "Happy Birthday" banner and a few party hats. At the edge of the table sits a folded half-sheet cake with a lopsided candle in the shape of a nine.
Above that little corner is a large clock that reads ten o'clock.
He puts his things down on a random cot, carefully returning to the front door where the little boy- he assumes Tim Drake- is waiting. He's leaning back and forth on his feet, and Danny can barely pick up his soft words.
"It's okay; they're all just really late. One person came this time so more could be on their way! Don't be sad, Tim. Things are looking up!"
Bless his heart.
Danny tries to reach for his ghost powers and grins when his ice core responds. He glances back at the little boy before he slips into the ballroom. He quickly re-decorates the party corner using his ice, making it look like actual decorations.
He even goes out of his way to open bottles of colored juices- he doubts anyone would drink them- and freezes the liquid so it adds a bit of color to the room. He's left with a winter wonderland with ice sculptures of animals- kids like animals, right?- and he gathers a birthday boy.
"Hey, Tim?"
The kid hurries to his side. "Yes? Did you need something?"
"Yeah, I need the birthday boy to cut his cake!"
Danny strong-arms the kid into the room and is delighted by the absolute happiness that blooms over the boy's face once he sees the room. "Wow! Did you do this?"
"Sure did, kid."
"Are you a wizard like Harry Potter?" The boy asks, and Danny has no idea who that is, but he nods anyway. Maybe it's this world's version of Santa Claus? Who is he to deny the kid's sense of wonder.
"Don't tell anyone." He says with a wink.
"But-But- but I'm a muggle!" The boy cries, suddenly horrified. Danny wonders if that's a slur, and if so, he won't allow him to use it to describe himself with it. "You'll get in trouble for using magic before me!"
"Why?"
"Cause muggles can't know about magic unless they are family! They'll throw you in Azkaban!"
Ugh, okay, he can work with that. "Well, I guess this makes us brothers, doesn't it?"
Tim's eyes practically pop right out of his skull. "Really?!
"Yeah, I'll be your big brother. My name is Danny and we can do something you always wanted to do for your birthday. How does that sound?"
"We can do....anything?"
"It depends on what you want to do, as long as it's legal and safe."
"Will.....you read me a bedtime story? I always wanted to know what that's like."
Danny's heart shatters. "Sure of course. What book do you want to read?"
Tim's face goes slightly pink. "The new Harry Potter book just came out. The goblet of fire? Can we read that?"
Oh, so Harry Potter is a book series! "Sure, Tim. Let's cut the cake and then we can pick a cot to pile blankets on to snuggle down and read."
Danny had never seen a kid look so happy in his life "Okay!"
Later, as Tim is tucked into the crook of his neck and shoulder, fast asleep after the exciting chapter of Harry Potter outflying a dragon Danny is visited by Lady Gotham.
It is only because Tim is too comfortable that he doesn't start swinging at her. She explains Tim's life and the obvious neglect before she bends down until her forehead touches the ground and begs Danny to care for him in her stead.
By morning, the Drakes suddenly acquire a new family member, and no one notices how he appeared overnight, but he's in the system, and no one can fault the documents. Lady Gotham made them herself.
#dcxdpdabbles#dc x dp crossover#Magic older brother#Lady Gotham gets Tim a breother#Harry Potter is a thing in Tim's world but not Danny's#Danny just kind of accepted it#Tim is so happy to have a brother
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baby, it's cold outside | joel miller
Summary | Patrolling with Joel is always easy, he's your friend after all, but when a snow storm forces you to stop halfway, you're both faced with feelings that you'd both rather ignore, but with nothing but time, talking about them is your only option.
Word Count | 4.2k
Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader
Warnings | Explicit 18+. A snow storm and a cabin with a nice, warm fireplace. Unspecified age gap. Explicit smut - unprotected PiV (don't do this, pls be smart), oral sex (F), size kink if you squint, dirty talk, two idiots who love each other, some negative feelings towards the holidays but nothing else I can think of!
Authors Note | A huge thank you to the wonderful @hellishjoel for setting the 12 days of Pedro up and asking me to take part - this was so much fun to put together and I hope you all love it as much as I do!
12 Days of Pedro Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Thank you to the wonderful @saradika for the divider!
Despite having lived in Wyoming for years now, the winters were still a surprise to you. Icy cold winds, frosted windows every morning, thick downfalls of snow almost daily and a struggle to get warm no matter how many layers you wore. Some would call it picturesque, and you suppose you could see it, everywhere you turned in Jackson at this time of year, even though it was against the backdrop of the end of the world, it looked like it could adorn the cover of any Christmas card or be the setting for any Christmas movie. It didn’t matter, because you hated it either way.
When the tree went up in the centre of town, and the lights got switched on, it only served to remind you how solitary you were. How you existed mainly entirely on your own. No family, barely any friends, always the talk of the gaggle of girls who would whisper to each other whenever you passed and start laughing to each other, or the boys who always wondered why instead of hanging around with people your own age, you opted to spend it alone, or with someone who was pushing sixty.
Because if there was a single person in this Godforsaken town that you could class as a friend, it was Joel Miller. Quiet, closed off, unapproachable until you chipped away at his hard exterior, just like you in so many ways, it was actually sickening really. You liked Joel, ever since Tommy had put you two together for patrols when Maria had given birth, it was like you’d found someone who finally understood your need to be alone.
Patrolling outside the walls gave you peace, let you leave your loneliness behind for a while, just you and the ground beneath your boots, the feeling that you were doing something wrong, were less of a person because of your lack of friends and relationships left behind at the gate. You’d proven yourself capable more than enough times for Tommy to realise you were an asset. You’d saved more than enough people with your good aim and quick trigger finger, been ruthless in getting rid of raiders who strayed too close to your safe haven, and he knew your need for solitude, which is why he trusted you on these longer routes, on the more complicated patrol rotations, the ones that would get you out of Jackson for a week.
You surmise that’s probably why he chose to pair you up with Joel. In the two years you’d patrolled together, you’d come to realise that he needed that solitude just as much as you did. A way to leave behind being a father at the gate and remind himself of exactly who he was before. Out here, walking side-by-side next to you, he wasn’t Ellie’s dad, he wasn’t the man who still woke up in cold sweats remembering the heavy weight of his dead daughter in his arms, or that man who had lost almost everyone he’d ever cared for along the way, he was just Joel. Joel, who was more comfortable cradling a rifle in his arms than he was his infant nephew. Joel, who preferred comfortable silence instead of filling the quiet with talk. Joel, who, even when you suspected he hated you at the start, would have protected you to the death no matter what.
You were similar, far more than you’d like to admit, and as the weeks and months had drawn on, and you’d moved into being more comfortable with each other, he really was one of those things you’d wanted for so long. A friend. Someone to rely on, someone to drink with at the end of a hard patrol route, someone who made sure you ate when it was the last thing on your mind, someone who fixed the hole in your roof and put new planks of wood on your porch when you almost fell through it one day, someone who confided in you about how hard he found being a parent again, someone who opened up to you when things started to sour with Ellie. A friend.
He was also someone, in the last six months, that you suspected wanted to be more than your friend. It had started small, with things any good friend would do. He would offer you his arm when you walked during the winter so you wouldn’t slip, started packing double lunch so he knew you’d eat when you’d go out together, but then it was the hand on the small of your back through town, or the way he’d sit close to you in the bar, knees knocking against yours just so he could put a hand on your knee to apologise for getting too close.
And it’s not like you didn’t see that in him either. For a man who was almost sixty, he was incredibly handsome, able to do unspeakable things on patrol that neither of you would talk about to anyone else, strong in a way you didn’t think you’d ever seen before. Sure, his hearing was shot in one ear, his middle soft with age, and his hair and beard peppered with grey hair, but Joel Miller was a sight.
But, what if you’d read his signals wrong? What if his kindness and that warm hand on your knee was just him being a Southern gentleman? You throw yourself at him and he doesn’t feel the same, what happens then? You lose one of the very few friends you’ve ever had, and that’s somehow worse than knowing you’ll never know what the feel of his skin is like under your touch or what it sounds like when he moans your name for you.
The patrol route is brutal this day, wind and snow making it hard to see anything in front of you. You and Joel had to shout loudly to each other in order to hear anything, so when you stumble across the cabin, halfway through the route, you both decide that it’s best to head inside, get warm and wait out the worst of the storm before carrying on. Safer that way, is what Joel said, but you think it’s got more to do with the cold on his joints than the safety. Even at your younger age, your bones were certainly aching.
The wind whips a flurry of snow into the abandoned cabin when Joel pushes the door open, ushering you inside quickly, shutting the door quickly behind the two of you before more snow can follow you in. He sets his rifle down near the door and his backpack on the worn, moth-eaten couch, kneeling in front of the fireplace.
This particular cabin is a regular stop on this patrol route, an agreement between the residents of Jackson who frequent it to keep it stocked with firewood during the cold season. You silently note to thank whoever had patrolled before you for stacking the fireplace so all Joel really needs to do is set fire to the scrunched paper dotted through the wood to get the warmth of the fire flooding the small front room.
“Reckon we’re here for the long run,” Joel grumbles, holding flat palms up to the flames to warm his hands, “Ain’t no way we’re walking anywhere in that.”
And he’s right, the light of the day is fading fast and even in daylight, the blizzard had been a nightmare to traverse. It’s not like you’re wanting to rush back though, you sometimes wish you could pack everything up and come out here for good, live in your solitude until the end of your days, but for now, just a few more nights away from the place that reminds you just how alone you are will do.
You settle down on the couch, trying to burrow further into the coat around your body, not bothering to take your gloves or your hat off until the flames of the fire are stronger.
“Come sit closer,” Joel murmurs, motioning with his hand for you to sit on the floor next to him, “Warm up a little.”
You slip down from the couch and scoot along the floor until you’re sat next to him. Joel reaches over and takes hold of your wrist, gently pulling off your glove, “They’re damp,” He states, reaching for your other hand to do the same, “Take your coat off too, you’ll get a chill otherwise.”
Working to unzip the front to pull it off, whilst Joel throws an extra few pieces of wood on the fire, you settle a little bit closer to the flames, feeling the warmth start to seep through your other layers. He stands, taking your coat and his, hanging them on either end of the fireplace to dry out a little, then he sits back down next to you, although a little closer than he had been before, so close that you can feel the heat of his body next to you.
You take a moment to steal a look up at him, his body larger than yours, towering a little next to you, but in the glow of the flames he’s fucking breathtaking. You get lost in tracing his jaw and the hook of his nose with your eyes that he’s turning his head to face you before you can turn away from him. He catches you with that small smile that is saved only for his family normally, Ellie, Tommy, sometimes Maria, and now, more often, you. So you smile back at him, let the warmth lick through your body, and before you realise it, he’s leaning his, broad shoulders bumping yours as his face gets closer, and God, it would be so easy to let him do it, move your face towards him, press your lips to his and burn it all to hell, but as he inches closer, that pit is opening in your stomach, bubbling anxiety and dread, so as he inches closer, you have to stop him.
You bring one of your fingers up to press against his lips gently, watching as he purses them against your touch a little, but then his eyes open when you speak, so softly, so quietly that he almost missed your plea, “Please don’t.”
It’s like you’ve burnt him with the way he not only drags his face from you, but his whole body, putting so much distance between the two of you that you almost cry. He clears his throat, running his hand over his face, “Right,” He mumbles, “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise,” You insist, not meeting his eyes though, “You don’t need to be sorry.”
“Stupid of me,” He shakes his head, “Just thought-” He sucks in a breath and pushes it out on a sigh, “Thought maybe you’d feel the same, but it was stupid.”
“It wasn’t stupid, Joel,” You sigh, finally turning to him, “It’s okay.”
“Makes sense,” He shrugs, eyes boring holes into the flames in front of you, “I’m old, too old for you to want me.”
“It has nothing to do with you being too old for me Joel, I couldn’t give less of a fuck about that.”
You expect him to drop it, like he often does with these kinds of conversation, the ones that involve feelings, but he doesn’t.
“Then what is it?”
“Well, it has nothing to do with your grey hairs or your creaky fucking knees, that’s for sure.”
He’s looking at you with a look that says to get fucked, hurry up, tell him the real reason for all this.
“I could be shit in bed for all you know.”
“Well that’s easy to rectify, just need a little practice.”
It makes you snort, “Can we be fucking serious for a minute, Miller?”
“You’re the one who said it first.”
“What happens when it goes tits up?” You ask, “When you get bored of me, or realise I’m not what you thought I was, what happens then?” He opens his mouth to respond to you, but you beat him to it, “I lose my best friend, that’s what happens, the only person in this Godforsaken world that I have, and I don’t want that, I don’t want a world where I’m without you.”
“Who says it’s going to go tits up?” He counters, “Baby, I’m old, I ain’t gonna go running off, I just want somethin’ good, somethin’ happy, and I want that with you,” Just like you had done before, he starts talking again before you can add something, “Put your faith in somethin’, darlin’,” He’s moving back towards you now, shifting closer, “Put your faith in, me.”
It sounds so easy when he says it like that, because you had once before, without even realising. Let him in, let him get close, to know everything you’d been through, share everything he’d been through. You let him sit with you late at night in the summer, strumming his guitar on your porch, he lets you share his whiskey when you need it.
“I’m still gonna be your best friend,” He urges, that warm palm resting on your knee, “That ain’t gonna change, we’re just gonna add to it.”
And for some reason, it snaps, all of your good judgement and everything that was holding you back. His face is cradled in your palms before you know it, your body straddling his lap as your mouth slants over his, a surprised gasp swallowed by your mouth as his lips open against yours, his hands coming to rest on the globes of your ass through your jeans, pulling you closer, chest flush to chest as you soak this in.
Hands dropping to the collar of his shirt, you start to slowly unbutton it, mouth still against his, tongue tasting him as your fingers push button after button through their holes until you can push it from his shoulders, drag his arms from it, drag his undershirt from it’s place tucked into his jeans.
Joel gasps when your hands make contact with the skin under it, fingers still slightly icy from the cold, but that too is swallowed by your mouth, as is the moan that drags from your throat when he bucks his hips into yours.
He pulls away from your lips, forehead pressed to yours as you both breathe deeply, “Don’t seem shit in bed so far.” He chuckles.
“I was fucking with you Joel,” You smile, punctuating it with a roll of your hips into his, “I’m a delight in bed.”
“Prove it.”
“Can’t.”
“Why not?”
“This is the floor Joel,” Which earns you a squeeze to your ass, “I’ve never fucked someone on the floor before.”
Before you know what’s happening, he’s flipped you over, your back pressed to the dusty wooden floor, his body looming over yours, fingers picking the button of your jeans apart, pulling the zipper down, fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down your legs, underwear along with them too, before they’re thrown behind him somewhere, forgotten as he parts your knees, legs spread, exposed to him, and you think you might die from the way he looks at you. You bury your head into your shoulder, trying to escape his gaze as he drags his thumb along your folds, growling when he feels how wet you are just from his mouth on yours.
You’re vaguely aware of the sounds of his feet hitting one of the armchairs behind him as he lowers his chest to the floor, hands pulling at your hips, your back dragging across the wooden floor as his mouth presses a single, feather-light kiss to your clit. The smallest of touches to your body has your back arching into him.
How long has it been? Not since you fucked someone, because in the grand scheme of things that hasn’t been too long. No, how long has it been since someone actually made you feel good? Years, you think. Too long. Too long since sex was anything more than just stress relief, pressed against the brick wall by the Tipsy Bison, letting someone fuck you so you could feel something, giving them the bragging rights of fucking the town outcast in return.
This is different. So different. Joel is slow with it, parting you in front of his face with his thumbs, tongue swirling through the slick you’re not even embarrassed about now, tasting you, drinking you in, before he drags his perfect mouth up, lapping gently at your clit with the tip of his tongue.
“Taste so fuckin’ good for me, baby.” He coos against your skin, his praise making you preen, hips chasing the feeling of his mouth on you, he chuckles at your desperation, “How long’s it been since someone made you feel good, huh?”
Your fingers tangle in the curls on his head, dragging him back down to your cunt to silence him, “Too long.” Is all you offer as he feasts on you.
Tongue swirling, lips suckling, fingers digging into the skin of your hips, dragging you slowly but surely to the edge, the fire in your blood no match for the fire against your skin. He’s fucking good at this, knows exactly how to listen to your moans, the way you pull at his hair when he does something you like, collecting the little gasps and hip movements until he’s working a pattern on your pussy that makes you feeling like you’re going to explode, combust, maybe even die a little.
“Don’t stop,” You urge, breathless, sheen of sweat settling across what skin of yours is exposed to the flames near to you, “Gonna - fuck Joel - gonna cum.”
That’s when he pushes two of his fingers into you. Hooking them up inside of your cunt, your legs dropping open further than you thought possible as he works you and works you. You’ve gone quiet, letting out only short breathes when holding them in makes your head light, fingers so tight in his hair that you think it’s probably hurting.
Then, you think you find God, right there on the dirty, dusty floor, when the coil snaps inside of you. Your back arches off the floor, thighs clenched around Joel’s head as his tongue continues the flicks against your clit, ignoring the high-pitches whines of too much, Joel listening instead to the movement of your legs, the way your entire body convulses until you truly are spent for him.
Joel pushes himself up onto his knees, dragging his undershirt over his head, pulling his belt through its loops as you’re sitting up, dragging the upper portion of your clothes off, naked on the floor for him, the flames from the fire keeping you warm, even if your nipples do pebble and peak against the cold.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel breathes out as your hand settles on your pussy, fingers dragging through the slick to lazily move over your clit, “I wish you could see yourself right now, baby,” He crones, pushing down his jeans, cock springing free, immediately clasped in his fist, movements slow as he watches you touch yourself, “Pretty as a fuckin’ picture.”
His body falls forward, coverings yours, but this isn’t what you want. Hand on his chest, you’re pushing him back, “Wanna ride you, Joel.” You whine.
Like a kid on Christmas, he’s on his back in seconds, jeans and underwear pooled around his ankles because if you’re not sinking down on him in the next few seconds, he’s going to scream. You settle your thighs on either side of his hips, his cock, heavy and throbbing against his stomach. He’s watching you, as you take the base of him in your hand, line him up with that aching core of yours, head notching into you, where you just keep him for a moment, let him stretch you as you ground yourself with palms on his chest, sinking down, inch by inch until he’s fully buried inside you, warmth wrapping around him, just like the warmth from the fire against his skin.
You start moving your hips, his cock so deep in you he swears if he put a palm on your lower belly, he’d feel himself through your skin with the way you’re grinding against him, head thrown back, mouth dropped open. He wishes he could take a photo of this. He doesn’t think he’s seen a nicer sight in his life.
“It’s a lot, ain’t it baby?” He coos, hands on your hips, guiding your movements, he knows he’s big, been told enough times through his life, but the way you’re slow, getting used to him inside him, has him on the verge of spilling inside you already.
“So big, Joel.” You whine, leaning back now, hands on his knees which have moved up, his feet planted on the floor now, and God alive, if he thought you were a sight before, you’re a fucking masterpiece now as you start bouncing on his cock.
He can’t help himself, he is only a man after all, his hands trailing up the curves of your side, taking hold of your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers, listening to the way you sing for him. Somehow, he finds core strength from somewhere, pushes himself up, one hand behind him to prop him where he is, as his mouth sucks a nipple into his mouth, rolling that pebbled peak with his tongue, your arm wrapping around his shoulders to steady yourself against him, hips still working against his, finger tangling in the curls near his neck, keeping his mouth anchored right where it is.
Joel pulls off you, a wet smack from his lips as he looks up at you with those beautiful brown orbs, “Feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” He praises, “So tight around me, like you were made for me.”
“Wanna feel you,” You moan, head dropping against his shoulder, “Wanna feel you come for me.”
He’s wrapping his arms around your back, dragging you down with him as he rests himself back on the floor, your chest pressed to his as he finally takes control. Feet planted on the floor with your teeth digging into his shoulders, he fucks up into you, the cabin filled with nothing but breathy moans and a lewd smack of skin as he pounds himself into you. In an ideal world he’d focus on making you come again, feeling you clench around his cock as you fall apart would be incredible, but he thinks there will be time for that later.
He’s so fucking close, you can feel it, the way his fingers are gripping t every inch of skin they can reach, the way his hips are faltering and how your name is more of a feature on his lips. You let out a surprise squeal as he flips you both, your back now to the ground as his cock slips out of you, his fist replacing the wet heat of your cunt as the warmth of his cum splashes across your lower belly, a howl, not unlike an animal, falling from his mouth as he paints you, claims you as his own with those ropes of cum across your skin.
When all is said and done, and he’s taken in the sight of your skin splashed with his spend, the two of you lying in front of the fire, one blanket dragged from the bed on the floor to soften the harsh wood, another pooled around both your hips, this feels like home. Both you and Joel, led on your side, watching each other, and the flickering light of the fire bathes you both in orange, in warmth.
His hand traces your face, thumb dragging across your bottom lip as he leans in to kiss you. Hours later, with harsh wind and snow still swirling outside, he brushes a thumb across your nipple, your hand reaching down between you to find him hard again. He puts you on your back this time, creaky knees be damned, slides his cock into your aching cunt once more, fucks you slowly, the entirety of his weight pressed against you. That orange glow almost convincing you that this was before, when things were normal, romantic even, as his lips leaves tiny bruises across your skin.
When he’s marked you once more as his, cum splashed from your pussy to your tits, he lies back down, the broad expanse of his back to the dying embers of the fire, your back pressed to his front, his arm snaked under your neck, urging you to sleep, and as you drift off, Joel’s hot breath against the skin of your ear, his other arm draped loosely over your waist, you pray that the snow is just as bad in the morning, because if it were possible, you want to return even less now, want to remain huddled next to Joel, on the floor, for the rest of your life.
#Joel Miller x reader#Joel Miller x you#Joel Miller x female reader#Joel Miller x f!reader#Joel Miller smut#Joel Miller#Joel Miller fic#Joel Miller fanfic#Joel Miller fanfiction#the last of us#the last of us hbo#tlou#tlou hbo#the last of us smut#tlou smut#tlou fic#tlou fanfic#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fic#the last of us fanfic#the last of us fanfiction#Joel Miller Pedro pascal#Pedro Pascal#12 days of pedro#Joel Miller tlou#Joel tlou#Joel Miller the last of us#Joel the last of us
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get off the floor, m | jjk
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: You order Jeon Jungkook to get off the floor. He says, "Make me." You make him. Eventually.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; tipsy, bratty (needy) JK; wedding guests reader and JK hooking up in a random corner room bc they can no longer contain themselves, gasp; semi-public smut (fem dom!reader + sub!JK, JK becomes half-undressed while reader is still fully dressed, slight degrading talk (not really), heavy making out, dry humping) basically, I was staring at this photo and had thoughts
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“Get off the floor.”
“Make me.”
Once again. No stranger to this supreme annoyance, and yet knowing that did not make it bearable. You looked down at him. Was he drunk? He stared off to the side. Looked moodier than anything. Trying to play it cool, perhaps. You caught him glancing and you stepped back, smoothing the high slit of your deep purple evening gown.
“That suit costs way too much to be on the ground,” you attempted again, his black blazer over your bare shoulders.
Jeon Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you.
“Don’t care.”
You could feel your patience running thin. Not new, just like all of Jungkook’s antics. You felt his eyes travel up from your legs to your waist to your chest. When he got to your face, you gave him an unimpressed frown. If he hadn’t been drinking, he would have the good sense to look away. But he had, so he just ticked his head as if he wasn’t laying down in the middle of a random offshoot room in a very nice hotel. There was no one around. Time of night and because this wing had been rented for the wedding that was still going on in the main ballroom.
“You’re going to get in trouble,” you warned.
His dark eyes caught the low lights of the art deco sconces on the walls.
“Get on top of me.”
This was precisely why you had considered skipping this wedding. But, alas, common sense pulled through. You had not come with a plus one because you didn’t have one. Jungkook had not arrived with a plus one either even though you were quite sure he could have secured one. He was probably thinking the same of you as well. The look on his face when you strode in and greeted the couple was enough to encourage some of the guests to mysteriously begin herding you and him in close proximity. You couldn’t blame them. Playing matchmaker was bound to happen if a woman attended such a social event alone.
You just didn’t think the lucky man would be Jeon Jungkook.
You narrowed your eyes. His eyes lowered to half-moons. His lips parting. The two silver rings gleamed on the right edge of his lower lip.
“Don’t play this game.”
The tip of his pink tongue flitted against his lip rings.
“I’ve been wanting to play your game for a while now,” Jungkook breathed, his low voice vibrating in his chest.
You could still hear the bass of the music. One step. The heel of your pumps clicked loudly against the tile floor. His black three-piece suit had been perfectly tailored to him. There was no need for additional shape because his body lines were already ideal. His black hair had been carefully slicked back. Nothing to hide behind. Another step. His black vest and crisp white shirt were tight enough to his chest that you could witness the way his breath hitch lifted his upper torso. You looked down, then pointedly back up at his face, reminding him that his tight slacks made everything obvious.
He bit the side of his lip.
With a casual lift of your slinky skirt, you stepped over him, and then re-draped the dark violet fabric over his lower torso. One foot on each side of his hips. He must have expected you to refuse, as you already had many times before. He immediately froze, his startled eyes widening. In your defense, he had previously been more subtle and annoying about it rather than direct. You reached up, maintaining eye contact with Jungkook, and twisted your wrist, hooking two fingers on the collar of his blazer around your shoulders, pulling it away from your body to reveal skin.
You dropped it on the floor, away from your bodies.
The fitted gown had a soft sweetheart neckline with thin straps that framed your collarbones. A simple white gold chain necklace with a tiny round-cut diamond nestled at the base of your neck. The straps crossed over to your exposed lower back. The medium-weight fabric was tailored to skim over your curves. Princess seams accentuated your shape from chest to hips before opening up to wispy high slits that were only obvious when you walked or stood with more weight to one side. Demure if you stood straight, which you mostly did. Wasn’t your wedding after all. Your hair was down, smoothed down at the right, covering enough of your back to uphold the illusion of modesty. Unfortunately, as night approached, you had found yourself quite cold. The air conditioning had been turned high to accommodate for all the dancing bodies.
That wasn’t the trajectory of the night for you, though.
Instead of the dance floor, you and Jeon Jungkook were now somehow in deserted offshoot room with chairs on tables. Probably reserved for additional seating just in case any additional guests tried to squeeze in at the last minute. Certainly not reserved for a raunchy rendezvous.
You lifted an eyebrow.
“Scared?” you taunted, looking down at him.
His wrists were against the floor by his shoulders. You saw his fingers twitch, but he did nothing to move further.
“Ravage me already,” Jungkook exhaled. Hot and heavy and hiding desperation. “I can’t take this.”
You had been well-acquainted with him and a while now. You ran the tip of your pointed heel against his side. Jungkook shuddered. He didn’t move to touch you. You backed off. The real problem with all this was not the friendly terms you both had, but rather the fact that he had caught you in a rather dubious place some nights ago. Neither you nor him should have been there. In fact, you made it a point to travel far enough so you wouldn’t run into anyone, which you presumed was also the exact reason Jungkook ended up in the same place.
You squatted down, tilting your head at him in a predatory way.
The skirt of your dress pooled over his abdomen.
As you came close to Jungkook’s level, you heard his breathing shallow.
You took a short moment to collect your dress accordingly before dropping to one knee. And then the other. Straddling him, but not quite touching. Your fingertips touched the ground. He smelled like faint musky spice. You lowered over him, until your hands were just under his upper arms.
Looked down.
Jungkook stared at you from below, trapped in your shadow.
“You really did see me at the BDSM club that night,” you murmured. “Didn’t you?”
You raised your right hand and closed it around his left wrist, pinning it to the ground. He sucked in a tight breath, the gravity of the situation seemingly sinking in although it didn’t seem like he was rushing to stop you.
“Your ass looked so fucking good,” he whispered in the dark. “I knew it was you.”
You bent your left elbow, descending to his face.
“Someone will find us.”
At your reminder, he bit his lower lip in that fuck-me-harder kind of way. Then you felt movement. His right hand snaked between you and him. Your eyes flickered down. His dress shirt was fastened all the way to his neck. He looked sharp. Conventionally handsome. The only things he couldn’t hide was his facial piercings and the tattoos on his hand. Hand tattoos were a big faux pas to most. You liked a rule-breaker though. Unfortunately. Jungkook’s deft fingers traced the pressed collar of his shirt.
You watched him undo the first pearlescent button.
Then the second.
Your lips parted to warn him to stop, but the third was already coming undone and you could hear the desire in his erratic breath drifting upwards. Then it was eyes-to-eyes, devouring you with false innocence, and you opened your mouth to trace your lips with the tip of your tongue, taunting him with the glistening void.
“Fuck…” he whispered, trembling under you.
And then you stopped his hand by fully pressing your body against his chest, your clothed breasts against his naked pecs. Flitted your tongue over his lip rings, tasting his moan before hearing it. He turned his head, trying to chase it, but you feathered kisses over his cheek, gripping his left wrist as you licked his ear, hearing the whine of your name tickling yours.
“P-Please…”
You avoided him that night at that club, hoping he hadn’t recognized you, causing every subsequent interaction making it painfully clear to you that he had indeed seen you strutting your stuff in black latex while teasing strangers with your leather crop. Surprisingly, not in the way of trying to use such information against you, which was what you expected, but rather in the way the tempted drive the tempters insane. In imploring looks that only you could know. In too many chances of being too close in proximity. You don’t know how he did it, but now for some reason everyone was delicately suggesting to you to, perhaps, give him a chance. It only strengthened your want to teach him a lesson. You savored the rising panic in his voice as you bit the curve of his ear and toyed with him with your tongue. His trapped hand turned and you felt his palm mold to your lower ribs, sliding up. You bit down. He gasped, biting back a moan as his fingertips ghosted the curve of your breasts.
“Ah…. D-Don’t…” Whimper so close to his heart that only you could hear it. “My e-ear is… is sensitive, a-ah…”
You smiled, pressing your lips to his earlobe. His earrings were warming from your breath and saliva.
“Is that why you have so many piercings, huh?”
You made sure he could feel your lips move as you purred filthy nothings.
“What a pain slut you are.”
This time he truly moaned, his hips rising, and then abruptly cut himself off to avoid rising volume.
“D-Don’t…”
You sank down. Pressed against him, and even though the layers you could feel his erection throb, his entire body shivering when your weight dispersed over his lower body. His fingertips traced the dip in between your breasts. Your tongue circled over his ear once more before kissing up to his temple, the fingers of your other hand creeping up the side of his neck, and then you made out with Jeon Jungkook, right there on the floor with his groan vibrating the inside of your throat as you slowly thrusted your tongue into his lips. He did his best to suck and you always pulled away at the last second, using one finger to trace the muscle of his neck down to his collarbones.
You broke the kiss.
His lips were glossy and flushed.
“Please… Don’t stop,” he begged, squeezing your breast. “Don’t stop…”
The inaudible music continued to hum in the background.
You placed two fingers on his chin and pushed his head back, giving you access to his throat. For a brief moment, you considered making your mark, but instead you trailed your tongue down, down, painting possessive saliva onto his warm skin. His body rose. You let go of his wrist to pull open the sides of his shirt, realizing he was undoing his vest at the same time as his chest became fully exposed to the air, his dark nipples hard. You flicked your tongue against them, an involuntary ripple seizing his torso at the heated contact. Licked all over, enjoying the scent and taste of his skin. He silenced a cry as you bit down.
“H-Harder…”
You rose slightly, grazing your tongue against his skin before doing so.
“Be quiet.”
And then you roughly pinched his other nipple.
His arm flew up and he screamed behind clenched jaw, his hips lifting from the floor and his erection colliding with the inside of your thigh. You let out a light hum, sliding up his hard thighs. Your dress was already bunching around your waist. With a sweep of your skirt, your barely-there panties came into view. His attentive eyes immediately went down to the matching skin-toned thong barely covering your pussy, tricking him for just a moment, and then you saw the disappointment flutter into a slight frown.
“Did you expect me to be naked?” you mused.
He tried to cover himself with indifference. “No.” His needy gaze and raging boner gave him away.
You smiled.
And held the front of your skirt out of the way, rocking your hips forward to rub your panties against his clothed cock. Jungkook gasped, staring back at your relaxed expression with wide eyes, unsure where to look. You put a little more force into it, increasing the friction and molding his hardness to the soft dip between your legs, and you saw his eyelids flutter, his dark eyes rolling back, a contained moan escaping his chest.
You talked down to him, because you could tell he liked it.
“You thought I wouldn’t have panties and I would just ride you in a public place with no remorse or shame?”
Tension began to show through his muscles. He had one arm on his forehead and the other against the black-and-white tile floor, using subtle leverage to grind against you. He wasn’t obstructing his vision though, still very obviously staring at your thighs, the dip towards your pussy, watching the hem of your panties press into your skin with each movement.
“I… oh, fuck, I don’t k-know…” He panted, his shadowed eyes roaming back to your face. “Maybe.”
You laid your free hand on the waistband of his slacks, tracing his belt. You watched him hold his breath, his chest tight and oh-so-delectable. Slowly, you hooked your fingers under his belt. Gripped it, and changed the angle of your thrusting so that the head of his cock was rubbing against the radiating heat of your pussy, giving him a better view of your thin panties digging into your slit.
You saw his teeth sink into his lower lip.
“F-Fuck…”
His eyes slid shut and he moaned your name, sensual and deep and far too practiced for it to be a closed secret, his hips pushing back up against you, trying to get more and unable to do so. Frustration. Need. Craving. All bleeding into his expression. Against better judgement, you could feel it too, the irresistible pull of barely enough, the desire to tease turning into wetness between your legs, slowly but surely perfuming the air with your sweet, musky arousal.
Jungkook opened his eyes and stared up at you, imploring softly.
“P-Please…”
His arm lifted from his forehead and his other hand raised, fingertips stroking your thighs while using his shoulder blades for leverage. Forceful and precise. You let go of his belt and traced the knuckles of one of his hands, feeling the restrained strength in his touch. He sank his fingers into your thighs, gasping, pressing the back of his head onto the floor and arching his back. His open shirt. His exposed muscular chest. His tan skin faintly glistening with sweat. His throat begging for a bite.
You raked your nails down his abs, forcing Jungkook to lustfully grown to the ceiling.
You smirked.
“Get up.”
With minimal effort, Jungkook lifted his torso off the ground, frowning at you for asking him to be reasonable. His palms pressed into your thighs, ensuring that you continued to straddle him even though you had no intention of moving. In fact, you drew your knees together, pinning him in between your thighs. A few black strands had dislodged from their places and draped over his furrowed brows.
“Was that so difficult?” you murmured with lowered lashes, walking your nails up his chest.
His hands were sliding up towards your hips under your skirt. “Yeah.” He squeezed your ass with his strong grip while staring into your eyes. “I’ve been wanting to get you out of this dress for hours.”
“Hm.”
You gave him an unimpressed look as you felt his fingertips glide down. He pulled outwards ever-so-slightly. From below, out of sight, your pussy lips parted with a wet sucking sound.
Jungkook moaned against your cheek, pressing his naked chest against your clothed breasts.
“Come on… Please…”
You hand had migrated to his side, steadily scratching his lower back.
“Very reckless and dangerous of you.”
He glanced at you with those half-moon eyes filled with stars of longing.
“Don’t pretend you don’t want me to be,” Jungkook whispered hotly. “Brushing up against me by accident when I already told you that you look too damn hot. Teasing me every time I look down by showing off your legs even more.” His mouth brushed against the side of yours. You could faintly feel his lip rings. “You’re mean.”
You sat on top of his still-hard cock and purred, “I don’t recall doing such things,” before lightly bouncing on top of it.
He gasped and you sucked away his exhale, pulling back before he could kiss you.
“Let me,” he breathed out.
His hands came up to cradle your back as you arched your spine and then you sighed out, his soft kisses fanning over your décolletage, tucking his tongue between your breasts and licking upwards, his eyelids fluttering in bliss from the taste of your perfumed skin.
“Please, let me…”
Your arms around his neck. You had not intended to fuck Jeon Jungkook tonight but, then again, that was easy to think when he hadn’t looked at you with those perfectly desperate eyes yet. Nor had he yet pushed the top of your ass down to collide with his hard dick still fighting his pants, implying just how well you would fit together. Until right now that is. You smiled, leaning back into his warmth.
“At least button your shirt so you don’t startle the hotel staff with your sexy body.”
His ears flushed bright red. You shot him an amused look as he fumbled about.
“And what if there was a camera in here, hm? Recording your depravity,” you mused, appreciating the view.
“I don’t mind,” he mumbled to his chest. His ears remained red.
“I see. But if I compliment you, you become embarrassed.”
Jungkook avoided your gaze. “N-No…”
You hooked a finger under his chin and yanked him back up, confronting those big, dark brown orbs. He looked taken aback, almost afraid of what you would say next.
“I can’t wait to have you under me,” you whispered. “I’ll make you show me how talented you are at begging.”
He moaned into your mouth as you kissed him deeply, pulling him into your possessive embrace.
-
continued in get on the floor, m | jjk
--
drabbles masterpost | masterpost
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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒
and they take their children to the work
pairing: dad & husband! cyno, kaveh, lyney, wriothesley x fem! reader
cw: original characters, slightly ooc to fit the plot, parenthood, domesticity and fluff. not beta-read.
reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡
x
Cyno
If the Matras had ever dared to think that they'd see a softer, more relaxed side from their general since he had become a father, they could not have been more mistaken as Cyno remained as ruthless and as sternly faithful to his beliefs as he had always been.
In fact, the birth of the twins only served to intensify his sense of morality and justice; his desire for preservation and security not only applied to the Akademiya' laws, but now extending to the well-being of Aryan and Isaar as well.
Even so, it was still common for many to still try to test their luck in deceive the General Mahamatra and risk cheating the system believing that they'd get away with it in the end. After all, what are the chances of their actions being noticed by Cyno when he already had so many duties to worry about?
Even if he was working, surely the well-being of his sons came as the first priority, right?
That was what they thought.
With the little ones babbling and fidgeting uncontrollably on his torso, it wasn't difficult to assume that Cyno would focus all his attention on his children rather than his surroundings, giving the advantage of a perfect loophole for some scholars of Rtawahist Darshan to escape into the desert to do use of forbidden knowledge — too unaware of the reddish irises that were also watching them attentively.
“They never learn,” he sighed in irritation as he adjusted Isaar into the sling to his chest and Aryan to his back, “Looks like we have a long day ahead of us, little ones. Dad will show you what happens to those who dare defy the rules.”
A cute laugh escaped his babies' mouths bringing a soft smile to Cyno's face at their reaction. Well, it seemed like he couldn't let his kids down now, could he?
On that day, Cyno had returned home early with a feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment; his twins babies, although remarkably happy, were already sleeping snuggled by their father's warmth, very exhausted from the day's activities.
On the other hand, the scholars who had dare challenged his abilities learned that Cyno's judgment should never be tested ever again. His frightening reputation was not something to take so lightly. However, there was something even terrifying about being stopped by the General Mahamatra while he takes care of his children.
They took notes to never doubt a dad' sense of responsability ever again.
Kaveh
There was something so absurdly attractive about Kaveh carrying your daughter in his arms as he discussed a construction project that you could do nothing but revel in the sight of.
The seriousness in his eyes, his slightly disheveled hair and the professionalism in the tone of his speech were three of the main characteristics that made you fall in love with the architect. But the addition of your baby girl sleeping snuggled against his chest definitely served to leave you — and all the other women present there — enchanted by him.
Perhaps this was the reason why his clientele had increased so much in recent months and the number of scams had dropped significantly, consequently also increasing his workload. Not only had fatherhood served to boost your husband's reputation and diligence, but your daughter had unwittingly become the architect's lucky charm as well.
While it wasn't unusual for both you and Kaveh to bring the baby with you to your respective jobs, the frequency with which Zahra accompanied him to the sumerian streets intrigued you. Not that you doubted your husband's ability to provide the necessary security and well-being for the little one, no. When it came to his daughter, you knew that Kaveh wouldn't think twice about risking his own life if it guaranteed her smile. It was more your uneasiness as a mother and wife speaking louder that even your husband's reassuring smiles couldn’t appease.
But in the end, you could only laugh to yourself at how worried you were for nothing because both Zahra and Kaveh were doing very well.
Kaveh's serene expression told you how calm he was and you assumed that negotiations with the client were also going well. Although Zahra was still sleeping, your little princess caught the attention of the citizens around them who cooed at the sight of father and daughter, causing some to approach them and taking an interest in Kaveh's work in the process.
Or in the case of some ladies, taking an interest in the handsome dad who was giving them some decorations advice and a bright smile for free.
Who would've thought that to become such a respected professional you only needed to bring your cute daughter to work, huh?
You just hoped that these potential clients would see Kaveh's beauty and dedication beyond appearances, otherwise you’d have bad news to tell your husband. And a lot of spinsters to put in their place too.
Lyney
“Ok, kids. Remember to listen to papa and auntie Lynette, and no runs. Especially you Quenn. Stay by your sister’s side, please,” you tell your twins who are getting ready to leave with their dad.
Quentin only giggled and Corinne nodded in agreement like the good girl she was. You could already imagine the antics that were going on in your son's head now that he was somewhat aware that he’d be going out alone with his father, although you also knew that Quentin was a well-mannered boy and would do everything he could not to cause problems for his parents or upset his twin sister.
It wasn't your children's first time accompanying their dad to a rehearsal at the Opera Epiclese, but it was definitely the first time that you wouldn't be around to watch them since you had personal matters to attend to. Even if you didn't worry about your husband's ability to care for and keep the children safe, you still liked to remind them how they should behave to avoid possible accidents as the twins had also reached the dreaded curiosity phase.
Furthermore, this reminder not only applied to the little ones but also to the magician, who had a heart as genuine as those of his children and could often be more playful than them.
“Don’t worry, my love. I'm sure the little ones will behave very well”, Lyney assures you, placing a kiss on your cheek and bringing the twins into his arms, “Ready to see daddy's new magic tricks?”
Luckily for Lyney, it wasn't a busy day at the theater; his team was already carrying out their duties even before his arrival and Lynette had already tested all their new magic items for the performance that’d take place in a few days.
Corinne and Quentin, despite being too young to understand what was happening around them, couldn't help but love watching all the preparation for what they knew would be a huge spectacle. Their little amethyst eyes sparkled like two pairs of jewels as they saw the stage being set up and, of course, their father starting some illusionist tricks.
Seeing the sweet curiosity on his children's faces, a warmth spread in Lyney's chest as he felt truly happy to be able to share his passion with his family.
And taking advantage of the twins' focus on him, the man created a small and brief exclusive show where he took a deck of cards from his pocket and manipulated each one of them so that they appeared and disappeared from one hand to the other. When the entire deck was gone, Lyney giggled at Corinne and Quentin's shocked looks. But when it reappeared once again from under his sleeves and the cards were thrown up, transforming into dozens of crystalflies soon after, the children's joyful and melodious laughter echoed throughout the Opera Epiclese bringing a smile not only to their dad but everyone there.
At the end of the day, when the whole family was back home, Lyney proudly shared with you how a good boy and a good girl your kids were; listening carefully to their father and aunt, and respecting the other employees.
But, well... it wasn't like you needed to know that the reason behind their behavior was because Lyney had barely worked; instead, he preferred to spend all his time in the company of his two favorite people in the whole world.
Wriothesley
The Fortress of Meropide’ veteran residents already knew Cameron as you and Wriothesley had no problem taking the little boy on your respective patrols.
In fact, many of them looked forward to meeting the Duke's son and being able to interact with the docile and laughing baby. Cameron's melodious giggles could melt even the hardest of hearts, and you and your husband appreciated the affection the prisoners showed your son.
However, when it came to the new inmates, you and Wriothesley had a mutual agreement to prioritize Cameron's safety before introducing him to the unfamiliar faces. After all, you can't be too careful, and the information documents about the detainees that came from the Palais Mermonia did little to say what kind of people you’d be dealing with.
Fortunately, to this day you or Wriothesley have never had to use your strength to educate newcomers and you hoped it’d stay that way.
That day, however, Wriothesley had no option but to take his son to welcome the new “residents” who were arriving. Normally you’d have stayed behind to look after your son, but you were also suddenly summoned to a meeting at the Court of Fontaine and left in a hurry after saying goodbye to your family.
“It seems it’s you and me again today, buddy,” Wriothesley said to his baby as he finished changing his dirty diaper and dressing him in appropriate clothes. When finally secured in the sling, Cameron cooed in delight.
Wriothesley smiled fondly.
“Yes. That's right, Cam. We’re late. Time to welcome the new residents.”
Now, although it was common knowledge that the current director of the Fortress of Meropide was nothing if not a fair and respectable man, there were still rumors about his strength and ferocity in combat that frightened even the most brutish of men. The fontainian citizens still harbored a certain fear of him and the prison's residents, so his reputation on the surface was not a pleasant thing to hear, even though Wriothesley didn't seem to care what these people thought of him either.
Thus, the prisoners who'd arrive that morning were already preparing for the worst when they went to meet the Duke; from physical punishments to psychological torture.
What they didn't expect, however, was to be cordially received by the director himself, who was carrying a baby that looked a lot like him trapped on his chest. While it was no secret that Wriothesley had a wife and son, the sight in person was shocking.
In the end, the reception had ended well for both sides. The new prisoners were given all the essential information about the prison system and its administration, and Wriothesley was able to get to know them better. It seemed that people became unconsciously more honest in the presence of babies.
Hours later when you returned home, your husband was enjoying a cup of tea while Cameron happily drank his formula while enjoying the warmth emanating from his father's arms.
You could say they had a good day.
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin#genshin x reader#cyno#cyno x reader#kaveh#kaveh x reader#wriothesley#wriothesley x reader#lyney#lyney x reader#genshin dads au#genshin husbands au#when they're dads
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No because that hurt me! Lando Norris x Girlfriend! Reader Part 1
Plot: Lando goes one step too far ...
Warnings: Mentions of Assault (From a random on the street)
"Hey baby!" you grin pulling your boyfriend of three years into a hug.
You'd met Lando randomly, you weren't a model and you didn't have a rich dad. You weren't at all famous, you had a private Instagram account that only really had some of the drivers that Lando introduced you to like Oscar and Logan, and then Max, Charles, Carlos and Daniel.
You actually house-flipped, and properly house-flipped. Not one of those super rich people who come buy a decent plot of land with a small little shack on it and turn it into their dream manor. You however have built you way up, you and the team you work with. You were a graphic designer/ architect so you would design the houses and draw a floor plan, helping the carpenters when showing them your vision.
It was a great job, that was incredibly flexible when it came to travelling with Lando. At first it was stressful, being his WAG and everything. People didn't think you spent enough time at the track and weren't good enough for Lando, but you did try to constantly attend every race you possibly could, which made Lando more than happy.
He honestly liked, kind of keeping you bubble wrapped in a way. His other relationships had ended because of the harsh media and the fans and he didn't want that to happen with you. But this sometimes would get suffocating.
"Hey" he grins at you, he roughly pulls you into a hug that you return with a laugh into his shoulder.
"I'm so so proud of you, for your first Formula 1 win!" you exclaim, kissing his cheek and he kisses your head. Reporters flood around you as well as the mechanics and you start to feel a little crushed. You see Oscar and Lily to one side and Lily nudges Oscar seeing the look on your face and that you're looking a little flushed and panicked.
Oscar manages to pull you out and you thank him, laughing along with Lily as you regain your composure.
"Are you okay?" Oscar asks.
"Yeah, I'm going to go wait for Lando on his driver room. He'll want to celebrate tonight I'm sure of it" you smile. You walk off, waving to people through the paddock before entering the Mclaren motorhome.
You sit patiently waiting for him to come and meet you in the driver's room, just scrolling threw TikTok and Instagram making a post about your boyfriends win. You were so happy for him that you felt like you needed to share that with your few followers on your main account. You also had an account for your house flipping, that was public and fans followed you on there instead, so you made a story to congratulate him on there as well.
You waited and waited for what felt like hours, until you stepped out of his drivers room not hearing many people around anymore.
"Hello?" you called out.
You walked out through to find only a few mechanics left still packing away.
"Hey guys, where's everybody gone?" you ask starting to help feeling bad that there was only a few workers left on site. You look around seeing some light coming from the other motorhomes but it was similar to here at Mclaren.
"Thanks for the help Y/N but you don't have too, everyone's left for the night!" he smiles at you and you stop confused.
"Everyone? Even Lando?" you ask confused as to why he hadn't come and seen you yet.
"Oh yeah Lando, left about an hour ago? Went back to the hotel with Max and Daniel i think" he admits as he walks with you.
"He didn't come looking for me?" you ask and the guy has a thoughtful look before shaking his head at you.
"Oh, erm okay. Well, I'm sort of stuck here, can i help you guys at all with packing up?" you ask, hoping that one of the mechanics would be nice enough to give you a lift.
"Sure, come on!" he advises before showing you he little pieces that you could help them pack away. You stayed until Mclaren were pretty much done, but seeing your phone blow up with millions of notifications you decided to check.
Message from Oscah - Where are you? Thought Lando said you were meeting us here?
Message from Lils Z - Girl, where you at. I need you here at the after party :(
Message from Maxie Fewtie - Lando's being weird, where the hell are you?!
Message from P - Y/N, i thought you were coming with me and Max to the club? Aren't you coming?
You then move onto Instagram checking all the stories from you friends. You could see Lando was already at the club, up at the DJ booth Max feeling with Daniel dancing behind him. In Daniel's story you see Lando lean into a girl at the club as she talks to him, nodding at whatever she said. It made you frown at first but he was DJing so it was probably a request. But still why had he left without you and not bothered to text you.
"I'm really sorry, I'm going to have to go guys!" you exclaim, seeing all the notifs.
"Are you going to be okay, how will you get back?" the mechanic asks worry etching on his face.
"I can walk, it'll be fine and good for me to get fresh air. I thought maybe someone would have realized I'm missing by now and come and got me. I'll be okay!" you smile before pulling the hood of Lando's hoodie up over you head.
You make the cold walk and halfway through when you start to feel uncomfortable with how quiet the road is you try to call Lando, he didn't answer making you sigh and tears brim your eyes.
"You alright pretty!" A man exclaims coming up to you making you freeze in shock. He grabs your arm, making you gasp loudly looking round trying to catch someone's eyes for help.
"You seem lost, let me help" he grins, gripping onto your waist, a weak whimper coming our your mouth as you attempt to push his hands away. His breath smells horrid and his hands are cold on your exposed wrist.
"Y/N!" A voice shouts and you turn round seeing the mechanic from earlier and two other guys in the car all glaring at the man.
"These your friends darling, or are you a little slut with three men at your feet. You come with me, I'd give you a better time than these little boys" he scoffs looking at them.
"Y/N, come join us in the car" the one driving directs, you immediately go sitting in the back next to the mechanic who was in the back. Tears were streaming down your face at this point and you just wanted to go home.
"Y/N, hey hey its okay. He's gone now your safe!" the one next to you exclaims, pulling you in for a hug.
"Please, please can you just take me to the club Lando is at" you admit looking at Dan who was the mechanic driving.
"Yeah, sure"
In no time he pulls up in the center of the city in the club you'd all discussed going too.
"Thank you, I owe you lunch or dinner or something for this" you say tears still running down your face.
"Y/N are you sure your okay?" he asks, and you simply nod before hopping out the car. You run over to the VIP entrance and hold up your ID to the man, he checks the list nodding and letting the rope down so you could go through. Your walk round the club, the loud music pounding in your ears as you look for your boyfriend.
You lock eyes with Lily and Oscar first and they rush over to you, asking where you've been.
"Where's Lando, I just want to speak with him" you sob, leaning into Lily's comforting hug, sniveling and wiping it with the hoodie cuff. Oscar guides you round to a booth that currently occupied, Max, Kelly, Other Max, Pietra, Daniel, Heidi, Lando and a few others. As you round the corner everyone notices Oscar's sudden appearance and then yours behind him.
"Lando, mate look who i found!" Oscar tries grabbing his attention but he's one of the only people at the table right now that hasn't got your attention.
"Oh... yeah cool, ill be there in a min" he says noticing it you but not taking anything in, you look over at Oscar tears welling in your eyes just wanting a reassuring hug from your boyfriend and for him to either help you calm down, or take you back to the hotel.
"L-lando?" you stutter, and everyone is looking at you in confusion having no clue what had happened.
"What Y/N, I'm trying to celebrate with my friends that actually bother to turn up..." he huffs, everyone had noticed that he had a semi sour mood tonight, and now they had started to understand why.
"Mate, look lets take this to the balcony!" Max says, taking Pietra's hand trying to get her to stand up so he can let the girl whose sat next to Lando and the boy himself out. He noticed the tear stains down your face even in the dim-lighting of the club the minute you came over, him and Pietra having shared a look.
"Nope, if she's got something to say, she can say it here..." he grins, even though he doesn't normally drink, he'd had to many drinks tonight and it was effecting him.
"Lando, you don't want to do this" Oscar, tries stepping next to you, making Lando scoff.
"Oscar's right mate. Not tonight" Max agree's.
"She's a big girl, come on Y/N tell me why you cant even be bothered to fucking celebrate with me? Huh? You know what your so fucking useless and I shouldn't have thought you'd care for something as big as this for me... your jealous...." he slurs his words.
"Fuck you Lando. Just... I hate you" you cry, everyone at the table stiffens as your mouth opens like a fish, as if you want to say something more.
"I'm done, We're done, I'm not coming home to Monaco, I'm going back to London" you add, before turning round and storming out the club. Out the front you found a sober, Alex getting George and Pierre into Charles car, while he got Lily in his own.
"Alex!" you exclaim running over to him, he see's you and waves before pulling you into a hug.
"Can you drop me to the hotel please?" you ask and he nods.
The minute you got back to the hotel, you locked the main door before entering the bathroom and scrubbing your body raw. You looked at your sleepwear options, you normally just slept in Lando's older tops... but of course you didn't want the thought, sight or smell of him anywhere near you right now.
You fell asleep pretty quickly considering what happened. Lando didn't disturb you, you assumed he went back with one of his friends and slept on their floor or sofa.
You got up early, wanting to get the earliest flight back to London that you could. You were packing up when a knock came from the door, and then the sound of a key card swiping before the door opened.
"Morning baby, how are you?" a voice asks that you didn't want to hear. You keep going on about your packing, leaving Lando's stuff alone.
"Getting an early start to head back home huh?" he tries again, Lando looked at you, with concern on his face. He hadn't spoken to Carlos before he left wanting to come straight to his girlfriend who he was confused as to why he didnt wake up in their room with her.
"Ah your a grouchy morning person, why don't we go back to bed for a little" he laughs, about to touch your shoulder to pull you up before you shrug him off.
"Don't touch me" you whisper, zipping your suitcase up.
"What's going on with you baby!" he asks, pulling your chin up so your eyes met his and he almost gasped in shock when he saw the tears streaming down her face.
"I'm guessing you don't remember much of last night?" you say trying not to sound angry.
"No, I think Charles and Pierre had me do shots straight away" he laughs a little before turning back seriously.
"Why?" he asks.
"Well considering I broke up with you last night ..." you glare looking at him before he stumbles back a little from the pure shock of the statement. He was about to ask if you were joking, nut seeing your face there was no joke there.
"What? Baby... no what happened?" he asks looking at you. You snivel and lean for a tissue to wipe your nose.
"Figure it out, because i need some space right now... you hurt me Lando... and I need time. This isn't the end I just need to think" you say, pulling your suitcase up before walking to the door.
"Please baby, lets just talk about this. I don't even know what i did..." he argues throwing his hands out.
"No... because you hurt me! And you need to apologize for everything said!" you say tears in your eyes.
"Maybe talk to Oscar, Max and those Mclaren Mechanics that stay late" you sigh walking out the door leaving a shell shocked Lando behind.
A/N: I'm so so so sorry, i need to write more fluff instead of all these angst pieces... and some smut i gotta delve into smut coz I'm a pretty decent spicy writer... so look out for that too.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1#formula one#formula one fanfiction#lando norris#lando x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris angst#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando imagine#lando fluff
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You're my future, past and present
» Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader » Word count: 6,4k » Warnings: spoiler mentioned for 9x23 Angels / 9x24 Demons, Spencer's POV, exes to lovers, set after s15, anxious!Spencer, reader feels guilty at one point, language? (one 'bitch' from reader to reader), mentions of past fights, minor misunderstandings, random old lady plays cupid <3, fluff, kissing, how many phrases for being in love can one pack in two paragraphs? me: yes., » A/N: my brain is on strike for finishing bingo fics for some reason, it instead gave us this so yay!, i'm still working on those of course but i can't tell when i will get the next one done (in the words of one Penelope Garcia: Why do the last 10% always take the longest?), hopefully by the end of the week; it's lightly implied that reader can get pregnant in the beginning but it's not explicitly said (only mentions of kids), which is the reason i tagged it as fem but no mentions of anything body related or any pronouns (i think so, please let me know if i missed pronouns), so it might as well can be read as gn; no body description --- pls take a look here for more info about my reader descriptions in general
⚶ masterlist ⚶
He should have asked Penelope for a favour to look you up, before he came here. He had no idea how your life had changed in all these years he hadn't seen you or if you even wanted to see him again. It didn't particularly sound like it the last time he saw you.
You could be happily married with kids for all he knew. The thought alone almost made him turn around without even knocking on your door. He didn't know what he would do if this was the case. Or maybe you didn't even live here any more, you could have moved; to the other side of the city, to another state. Another country. You had toyed with the idea to move to Scotland back then, it very well could be that you had acted on it.
Too much time had past, five whole years – five years, three months, twenty-one days and eleven hours, forty-two minutes to be exact; but who was counting, right? – and there was too much history, too much heartbreak. Too many reasons why it hadn't worked out.
The main – and kind of only – ones being his job at the BAU and everything that came with it. The travelling and never being home, not even a free day or annual leave really meant not getting called in, the late nights, the worries that he could get hurt and may not be coming back home, the worries when he got hurt.
You had your reasons to break it off and he still thought that you were right to do so. He never held it against you, never resented you for leaving. Because he understood. If the roles would have been reversed, he may would have made the same decisions.
This whole idea was stupid. Why was he even here. He should just leave.
What did he think would happen when you saw him? That showing up out of nowhere – with no contact since the break up, not even a single text message – and having a 'new' job would change everything and would make you jump back into his arms in an instant like nothing happened? Yeah... Sure...
Maybe, deep down and in the tiniest crack of his heart, he didn't even want you to open the door; didn't want to see your reaction to him just showing up and the inevitable rejection that would surely come. He was sabotaging himself, really. And if he would be more honest to himself, he'd knew that. Maybe he did, but just didn't want to see it.
Spencer had been pacing back and forth in front of your door for an eternity by now; walking closer to it and already lifting his hand to knock, but changing his mind before his fingers even came close and he was walking a few feet away to leave, only to change his mind again and repeat the whole ordeal. Over. And over. And over.
He just couldn't make his mind up, he didn't know what to do. It shouldn't be this hard to knock on a door. Especially yours. But maybe it was this hard for him because it was yours.
At one point, he, a man of science, even asked the universe to give him a sign, to show him what he should do; if he should do it or if he should go.
That's when it happened.
Right after, as he was walking closer to the door again, he tripped over his own damn feet and he ended up kicking the door with his shoe; not hard, but audible enough.
Shit. Not the sign he was looking for. A pedestrian screaming something outside that he could twist into an answer, a car honking when he either was close to the door or walking away; hell, even a spam mail popping up on his phone that had a certain word in the subject line... No, it had to be this way.
Now he had to knock.
Taking a shaky breath, he hit his knuckles against the wood a couple of times and started fidgeting with his fingers as soon as he had lowered his hands. His heart was in his throat as he waited anxiously. His mind in a constant battle of 'please be home' and 'please don't be home'.
A moment later – both too short and too long at the same time – the door opened just a crack and it was really you standing there. Not some random person that would tell him you moved. You.
You didn't turn your head just yet, looking back over your shoulder instead, you held out your arm behind you and said “Stay there” in a soft voice to someone behind you. When you turned you blocked the entrance with your body and kept your left hand on the door.
Your eyes grew wide when you saw him. Spencer probably was about the last person you would have expected to see when you opened the door. He couldn't bring himself to break the silence first, didn't dare to speak.
“Oh, hey... Uh-”, you stammered looking for words, blinking in confusion. For a moment you opened and closed your mouth, and he knew you were hating that you looked like a fish out of the water, before you gave up and just settled for another “Hi.”
“Hi.” He hated how shaky his voice sounded. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes for a moment, looking down at his hands and the floor before he met your gaze again.
“Wow, it- it's been a while.”
“Yeah...”
“How long 's it been? Five years?”
“Five years, three months and twenty-one days.” Spencer pressed his lips together before he could blurt out the hours and minutes as well.
You laughed – not mean, but endearing – and the sound combined with the smile that spread on your lips made his heart leap. “Right.”
God, how much he had missed your laugh; how much he had missed you. Now that you stood before him, it became evident, that all the longing and yearning he had felt in the past years had been nothing more than a fraction of what he was really feeling; repressed by throwing himself into work and keeping his mind off you as much as he could.
His love for you never went away, never dulled even the slightest bit, and seeing you now was almost too overwhelming for him, his feelings for you crashing over him, nearly sweeping him off his feet.
“Uhm, I was just about to go to the park with Cleo”, you started, shooting a look over your shoulder and Spencer's heart dropped. He could have sworn it stopped beating for a few seconds as well. The Stay there hadn't rung any alarms in his mind, it could have been said to any person really. Going to the park with Cleo however...
He really should have asked Penelope to look you up before he came. You had a kid.
And since he could only see the heel of your left hand and not your fingers, he couldn't be a hundred percent sure, but there was a high chance there was a ring on your finger.
“Oh, I'm sorry to hold you up. I'll just, uhm-”, he stammered choked up and pointed his thumbs over his shoulder, taking a step back, about to turn away and leave.
“No”, you exclaimed, maybe a bit too quickly and panicked, as you held out your right hand like you wanted to reach for his arm; even making a small step out of the door. “You don't have to leave. You could- uh, you could come with us? If you want to.” If he wouldn't know better, he'd say there was a pleading look in your eyes, begging him to say yes and stay.
His mouth opened, but no words came out, no matter how hard he tried. He didn't even know what he wanted to say.
'Yes sure, let's go to the park with your daughter and rip my heart into pieces seeing and hearing about you living the life I dreamt of having with you, with another man'.
A plain 'No.' would be too rude, wouldn't it? Even if he would add a 'thank you' at the end, it didn't feel right.
“She uh- she likes meeting new people, she's really open; sometimes I'm afraid she'll walk off with anyone. Come here, girl.” You looked over your shoulder again and tapped your flat hand against your thigh a couple of times, then some clicking and scratching could be heard behind you on the parquet floor.
The speckled snout of an Australian Shepherd pushed in the space between your knee and the door, then tried to push through further after seeing Spencer. With a laugh you took a hold of the collar and held the dog back from running out.
“Cleo, stay.” You squatted down next to her, petting her head and scratched behind her ear. ”I have to warn you, she can be a bit rough when she gets excited.” A wide smile was on your face as you looked up at Spencer. “I've been trying to teach her to not jump up on everyone she meets, but it doesn't stick.”
Just like that, he felt like he could breathe again. Cleo wasn't your daughter but your dog and the ring you were indeed wearing on your left hand was one he recognized from your jewellery box.
A relieved chuckle left his lips and he mirrored your position. He held out his hand for Cleo to smell before he touched her. She really was excited; she was pulling against your hold and tried to get closer, her tail was waggling so hard her whole body moved in the rhythm and she nudged her nose against his palm hard after a short sniff, so he would pet her.
You did your best to hold her back, but after Spencer verbally said hi to her and was petting her on both sides of her head she surged forward; your hand slipped from the collar and Cleo threw her whole weight against him, making him loose balance and topple over.
With an outstretched arm he held himself up, laughing, as your dog rubbed her head against his torso and hand and was spinning around a couple of times between his legs, repeatedly leaning herself into him with every turn.
“Cleo!” Your voice had a warning tone to it that hadn't fully replaced your laugh though, not until she let out a small bark and started to lick over his face. “No! Stop!” You pulled her away and moved her back into the apartment; Cleo only reluctantly complied.
Before he could react, you shuffled closer on your knees until you kneeled right before him and in between his legs. You reached out and started to wipe the side of his face clean; the sleeve of your sweater pulled over your fingers. “I'm so sorry, she's usually not that excited. I have never seen her do this to someone that isn't me.”
He froze when you got close and he felt your touch, every soft stroke leaving behind a trail of fire, even with the thin fabric barrier between you. One would think his heart couldn't pound any faster in his chest than it already had since he had laid eyes on you again, but it did.
“It's- hu, it's okay”, he stammered as he was watching you intensely, with wide eyes.
“No, it's not”, you said softly and took his chin between your thumb and index finger, slightly tilting his head to the side as you tried to get everything off. “Do you want a wet wipe or something? You can come in and wash your face if you'd prefer that.”
Spencer couldn't help the smile stretching on his lips, his heart warming over the fact that you were still looking out for him, after all these years; after everything that had happened and all the things that had been said the day you broke up with him. His hand moved on its own accord and he wrapped his hand around your wrist, stopping you. “Really, it's okay.”
You met his gaze, heat rising in your cheeks and it was like you only now realized how close the both of you were sitting and that you were touching him. For a second you froze, your eyes wide. Then, after a deep breath, you pulled back to bring some distance between you and cleared your throat, looking away.
He could tell there was an apology forming on your tongue, but you swallowed it down. You began to nervously fidget with the hem of your sleeve and cleared your throat. “So, uh, do you want to come with us? There is this coffee shop on the way that opened about six months ago and they're really good, we- we could grab a coffee and catch up...?”
“I'd really like that.”
It was easy, talking to you. The initial awkwardness and anxiety he had been feeling had quickly faded and the both of you were talking as freely and open as before, like no time had passed; and he was incredibly grateful for it. Neither of you had been going to personal topics for now though – the closest thing to personal in a deeper sense was when you asked about his mom –, the both of you had been talking more about everything and anything.
[..] Did you end up getting that book collection you had your eyes on? - When did you get Cleo? - Oh, do you remember my coworker Grace? All the rumours really were true! - Is your neighbour still vacuuming solely in the middle of the night? [..]
About halfway to the park you stopped at the café you had mentioned and while you were waiting in line, you told him about the different coffee varieties they offered; the flavours, how strong they were, how sweet, the seasonal ones. You had drunk your way through the list three times and until you decided on your Top 5.
He crinkled his nose in adoration as he was listening to you rambling about the coffee – what you liked about each one and why you didn't like another – totally engrossed by you; you had done this in the past as well and it made Spencer happy that you still were. It was adorable. He wondered, if you still wrote down your Top 5's in that little notebook you had always kept in your purse.
The one you recommended to him was really good, you had met his taste precisely; the perfect amount of sweetness just how he liked it, and with a hint of vanilla and cinnamon.
There were many occasions he was about to reach for your hand, it was almost instinctually when you were this close to him. He didn't know if you would let him, if you would want it. So Spencer didn't. Instead he buried his hand deep into the pocket of his coat to keep himself from reaching for you, holding a tight grip on an old pack of gum he forgot was even in there.
Throughout the whole way from your apartment to the park, Cleo was happily dancing around you, just shy of making one of you trip over her. That she didn't circle around the both of you to wrap the leash around your legs – all '101-Dalmatians'-like – was all.
After you arrived at the park you walked a bit further in until you came to a fenced area that seemed to be reserved for dogs for them to freely run around without having to be leashed. As soon as you unhooked the leash from Cleo's collar she dashed forward, joining a group of dogs playing.
Spencer and you sat down on a bench and just sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching her. His hands got clammy as he got nervous because of the proximity, and he tried to wipe them on his pants as discreetly as he could. You were sitting so close to him, your thighs and shoulders were almost touching; he could feel the warmth radiating from your body and with every soft breeze the smell of your shampoo got carried over.
“So, uh... How have you been?”, you asked after a few minutes.
He huffed out a small laugh and licked over his lips. Where should he even begin. “Long story short? Not good then somewhat okay, bad, worse, better, okay.”
"Sounds like one hell of a roller coaster."
Oh you had no idea how much. And 'hell' sounded about right to be honest. "You could say that... How about you?"
"Wasn't much going on for me to be honest. I've been... okay? After some time at least...”, you admitted nervously, following Cleo with your eyes. “Everything alright at the BAU? How is everyone?”
“Good, they're good.” Spencer started telling you about all the changes within the team, but he left out all the bad stuff for now – he told you about Alex leaving, about Tara joining after practically a 36 hour long job interview for the open position, JJ and Will having a second child, that Morgan left and had married Savanah and that they had a son as well, Garcia vehemently trying – but ultimately failing – to hate the newbie Luke.
“Rossi got married last year.”
“Really? Again?” You let out a soft laugh.
“He re-married his third wife actually. They got back together after-” He had to stop for a second and swallowed hard as the spark of hope was reigniting in his chest. If Dave and Krystall had found their way back to each other after thirty years and made it work, five years didn't sound all that bad in retrospective. He tried to play it off like he was trying to remember the exact number of years. “Around three decades, I think.”
“Wow... That's a lot of time..”
“It is.” For a short moment Spencer didn't say anything more, trying to muster up the courage to tell you he left the team as well.
“And I- uh” He huffed out a small laugh, nervous, and let his gaze wander over the meadow. There he goes... “I'm not- I'm not with the BAU any more, actually.”
“...Oh”
For a moment you didn't say anything else and his heart beat faster. He couldn't a hundred percent gauge what your silence meant. What the oh meant. Did you care? Were you relieved or maybe even sad for him? Could – would – it change anything between you, even after all this time? Would you give the both of you a second chance? Him?
Hope started to rise up again in his chest and he tried to stop it and keep it at bay, so it wouldn't take over him; it would only crush him even more to lose you a second time if he'd let it happen. Spencer's breathing became more shallow and slightly faster as he waited for you to say more.
He could just turn his head to look at your face of course, study your expressions to get his answer without you saying another word. He didn't. Something held him back; maybe it was only because he was respecting your wishes from years ago not to profile you. Maybe it was fear of what he would see.
He heard you clear your throat and when you spoke, your voice was shaking, almost undetectable however. If you wouldn't sit so close to him – and if it wouldn't be you and he wouldn't be him – one probably wouldn't have noticed. “Why not?”
“Re-assignment due to budget-cuts or something like that. There were a couple of people higher up the food chain than Emily that had it out for us for a couple of years now.” His eyes followed Cleo sprinting over the grass, chasing and playing with the other dogs.
“Emily is back?”, you asked. The last thing you knew was that she had left for London not long after she came back from the dead.
“Yeah, she took over from Hotch after-” He stopped himself.
Telling you about Hotch and Scratch and why Emily fully became Unit Chief of the BAU, meant he had to tell you about everything else; everything that had happened to him. He just wasn't ready for this yet. This would have to be a story for another day; for both your and his sake.
“Anyway, I uh- I'm teaching now. Full-time. Mostly at the academy and some colleges here and there. But all in all-” Spencer took a deep breath. “Fixed work hours and no travelling for longer than a day.”
Only when he felt you tense up did he bring himself to look at you. You were sitting up with a straight back, eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly pursed. Your eyes were darting around and he watched a muscle twitch on your jaw.
He quickly looked away again, concentrating on Cleo again, before he could read you more. He couldn't help it, it was hard not to and turn it off. By now profiling was in his blood, it was a subconscious habit he couldn't always control, it just happened. You didn't want to get profiled, so he did what he could do to not use his profession on you. If it meant turning away and not look at you, even if he was only looking just to see you, he'd do it.
Also, he knew that he was biased; another reason why he shouldn't. What he would see and read would not be accurate. Usually, this was not a problem, he could read body language and micro-expressions with a 99,42% accuracy, since he'd do it with a neutral stand. But right now it was personal.
What ever Spencer would see in your non-verbal communication, he was too involved to not let his judgement get clouded by his feelings for you, his hopes and his fears. He would only see what he wanted to see, or what he not wanted to see, depending on which part of his heart was winning at the moment; the confident and hopeful part, or the insecure and anxious part.
“That's... That's nice. Do you like it?” He wished, he knew what you were thinking right now. Your tone didn't give much away on how you were feeling, but you seemed a bit more relaxed to him.
“Yeah, it's fun. There are some key topics on the curriculum I have to cover of course, but other than that I have pretty much full reign over the subject matters. Learning is more fun when it is about something you're really interested in, so I take suggestions from my students for a lot of the lectures. It's been paying off already.” He smiled proudly. “They contribute more and most grades have gone up.”
Slowly, the longer you talked as the evening proceeded and the sun slowly began to set, he let himself go, allowed his heart to open up and he welcomed the prospect of having you back in his life – to what ever extent it may be, even if only as a friend if that was what you wanted.
His heart had leaped when you shared you weren't seeing anyone and it hadn't slowed down it's pace ever since. Both of you had been talking and asking about it in the most complicated and conspicuously inconspicuous ways one can ask 'are you dating someone?'.
Not only this, but you wanted to spent more time with him. Spencer couldn't believe his luck. It was almost too good to be true and he feared he might wake up from this wonderful dream any minute.
He could tell how nervous you were when you asked him; hands and voice shaking, fingers fidgeting with Cleos leash in your lap, your eyes not daring to meet his.
"Tonight is this big bonfire at the Benson's farm, you know, the one with the apple orchard? I was thinking of going and.. maybe if you- I mean, if you are free tonight and want, uh- Would you like to go with me?"
There was nothing he'd rather do, nowhere he'd rather be.
After a short stop at your apartment to bring Cleo home and for the both of you to freshen up, you made your way to the farm. It was a fairly short drive and the roads were mostly empty as it got later, a bright full moon illuminating the way now.
When you arrived, there weren't too many people present. It felt more like a large family gathering than a big event. At a decent distance were benches placed around the huge bonfire, there was a tent where various beverages and a few food options were served. Next to it stood a truck from the fire department and an ambulance; a precaution if the fire got out of control or someone got hurt.
The air smelled of smoke and burning wood, french fries, beer and Mrs. Benson's home made apple pie.
Sorry, Mr. Benson's apple pie as Spencer learned some time after you arrived. You introduced him to the hosts and you started to talk about a new recipe for the pie filling you had tried to make and Mr. Benson explained what he would have done different than the recipe you found had stated.
The Benson's were nice people – he had met them once when he had accompanied you to the farm to get apples and honey. You had gotten closer to them since then, dropping by to help them out from time to time, especially when it was time for the harvest.
He had to catch his breath as his heart fluttered, his eyes glued to your face as he watched you talk with old man Benson. The way your eyes wrinkled at the corners when you smiled and the excited glint in your eyes, how the fire painted beautiful orange patterns on your face as the flames danced high, fuelled by the soft breeze; combined with the silvery light of the full moon shining bright. You looked ethereal.
Spencer became increasingly aware of said man's wife and her three friends, who stood a little farther away. The women were whispering to each other and kept looking over, one of them not so subtlety pointing at the both of you. They weren't talking badly, not at all; they were smiling and giggling as they were talking, nodding at what the other ones were saying, swooning with their hands over their hearts from time to time.
It could only mean one thing – and he wasn't sure if he should be embarrassed about it, or not: that he all too obviously for everyone around looked as love struck as he felt; utterly bewitched by your beauty, completely head over heels, truly madly and deeply in love with you in every way, a total goner who was worshipping the ground you were walking on.
Thank god for the warm shine of the fire, or they would be able to see the blush rising up his neck in this moment as well... He just was glad that he had finished his piece of pie before this, otherwise he'd probably stand here with an open mouth and the fork frozen in mid air as he was looking at you. Now, that would have been a good picture.
What he didn't know though, was that they weren't just talking about the smitten look on his face, but yours as well. The longing glances you shot his way whenever he wasn't looking, how you were orbiting around him like the earth around the sun, a magnetic pull to each other that not even the both of you seemed to realise you had as you unconsciously stepped closer to the other when you stood too far apart. They talked about the fact, that you looked at Spencer with such a happy and beaming smile they hadn't seen on your face in a long time.
And that they could tell how hesitant and shy the both of you were about getting closer.
It's not like he didn't want to, believe me. The urge to hold your hand or wrap his arms around you – to kiss you – was still burning in every fibre of his body and it got more and more challenging to hold back, the longer he was around you. Leaving out the tiny part in him that was still afraid of getting rejected, he didn't want to impose on you by acting on it. He didn't want to possibly make you uncomfortable, so he left it to you to initiate any physical contact.
Admittedly, this was very much a bad plan if you were doing the same and were waiting for him to make the first move. However, the universe seemed to take matters in its own hands again.
Spencer had to remove himself from of the situation for a moment to restore some of his composure and not ogle you non-stop; especially not in front of all these people. He let you know that he would get the both of you something to drink and asked what he should get for you; when he came back, Mr. Benson had left.
For some time you stayed close to the fire, until he saw you lift your hand to fan yourself some air. “Too warm?”
You let out a small laugh and smiled at him. “Yeah, it starts getting a bit too much.”
He took the now empty cup from you and with a tilt of his head he signalled you to follow him. He gave the cups back to the person behind the make-shift bar counter and you walked a little farther away, putting some distance between you and both the tent and the fire. And the people too actually, the majority had gathered close around the flames in small groups.
“That's much better”, you sighed. “I like a nice fire as much as the next pers- oh.”
Before you could finish, you lost your balance when a body collided with yours from behind. You stumbled forward and Spencer instinctively reached out to catch you – he got a hold of your arms with a firm grip on them right above your elbows as you fell into him, bringing up your own hands to hold onto his shoulders.
“Oh, dear, I am so sorry, I must have tripped over something. Are you okay?”, the voice of a woman came from behind you.
Neither of you let go of the other as you turned to face her. Spencer recognized her as one of the women that had talked with Mrs. Benson earlier and the look on her face told a whole different story than her words; that she wasn't sorry at all and that it had been deliberately planned to bump into you.
“I'm okay, no worries. Are you?”, you asked her and quickly scanned her for injuries.
“Ooh, I'm good. I'm good...”, she replied, almost in a sing-sang kind of tone and a wide smile on her lips. She snickered softly and walked away, her hand raised with a lazy kind of flick in her wrist as a wave good-bye.
The both of you watched her walk away, baffled.
“Okayyy”, you let out as you kept your eyes on her for a moment longer. “As long as she didn't twist her ankle or something.”
You turned your head, and just like earlier in front of your apartment, it seemed like you only just now realised the position you were in when your eyes met his. How close you were and that you were still holding on to each other.
Only this time, you didn't pull away.
The world around him seemed to fade away, time standing still, as he held your gaze. Your breath hitched and when his eyes flickered down to your lips, Spencer felt your grip on him tighten, subconsciously pulling him closer to you. His heart was in his throat and it beat so loud that he was sure you were able to hear it. He let his eyes wander back up and when he saw that you were looking at his lips as well, he threw all caution in the wind and just... did it.
He let go of your elbows, took your face in his hands and leaned in, hovering his lips over yours for a short moment to give you an out, to give you time to pull away, but you didn't; instead you closed the small space that was left between you.
A long and deep sigh rumbled in the back of his throat when your lips met and he pulled you closer; as you leaned into him, your hands moved higher until your fingers were tangled in his hair, slightly tugging on it.
When you pulled back – more than reluctantly, but the both of you were still in public – , you were panting, your breaths mingling as your faces were still so close to each other. Spencer kept his eyes closed for a moment longer, not quiet ready to open them yet, afraid that when he did, he would wake up from an incredibly vivid dream.
“I'm sorry”, you suddenly choked out, which made him open his eyes in an instant. Tears were streaming down your face and you took a step back, keeping him at arms length. “I am so sorry, Spencer.”
“Hey, what's wrong? Talk to me, please.” Your emotions had changed so suddenly, he didn't know what happened, what made you cry. He wasn't sure what he should do, how he could help you calm down.
“I'm sorry”, you repeated, shaking your head.
“What for?” Did you regret letting him get close to you again; kissing him? Did you regret, that you hadn't just closed the door right in his face as soon as you had seen him this afternoon?
“Everything!” you choked out. “For how I acted all the time and for leaving like that, for leaving when I did. That I didn't contact you even once. For saying all those things, it wasn't fair. It never was. You didn't deserve it. I was so mean for no reason...” You sniffled and wiped the back of your hand under your nose. “I regretted every word the moment I said it, I didn't mean any of it. I couldn't stop talking and it was like I was losing control over myself and it all just came out and-....”
“Hey, I know...” Spencer took a small step closer to you. “In that moment it hurt, yes. And it took a lot of time until it stopped hurting; sometimes it still does. But I get it. You were scared. Some people get angry and lash out at the people around them when they are scared, especially directed at the person they are scared for; everyone reacts different. It's a totally normal reaction, I don't blame you.“
A sob came over your lips, your face twisting in pain. “Please don't be like that...”
His brows furrowed, a short and sharp pain in his chest. “Like what?”, he breathed out.
“So understanding... I acted like a total bitch to you! You should hate me... Why don't you hate me?” Your voice broke and got smaller with every word.
The corners of his mouth slightly raised to the whisper of a smile and Spencer closed the distance between you, lifting his hands to cup your cheeks. He wholeheartedly meant what he said next; there was not one thing he could think of that would change anything about it.
“I could never hate you.”
“You were shot. You needed me and left you alone and-”
“I've had worse. Before that day in Texas and certainly after”, he trailed off and softly shook his head when your brows furrowed even more, pain and fear so evidently in your eyes; he could tell that you knew he wasn't talking about anything related to the break-up.
“It's okay, I'm okay.” Spencer brushed your tears away, holding your face so gently in his hands as if you'd break into a million pieces if he wasn't careful enough. By the looks of it, you may very well would. Not a risk he was willing to take.
You opened your mouth to say something, but he stopped you from asking what had happened after, by placing his thumb over your lips. “Not tonight.” Gently, he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip to the corner of your mouth. “We'll talk about it all and I will tell you everything, I promise. Just.. not tonight, okay?”
He wanted to stay in that little bubble you had created a little longer and ignore everything else but the feeling of having you back in his arms, being able to kiss and hug and touch you again, he just wanted to revel in your presence and your love. Everything else could wait; the guilt, the talking it out, the pain and especially all the bad stuff he had held back.
You pulled him closer by the collar of his jacket until there was no room left between you. For a second you fought with yourself, your eyes darting back and forth between his like you were looking for something in his gaze before you acted on what you wanted to do. Then-
“I love you.”
Before he could say, think or do anything else, Spencer dove down and pressed his lips against yours, smiling widely into the kiss. His heart was racing and he felt like a huge burden had fallen from his shoulders that he didn't even know he had been carrying. When he pulled back he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “I love you.”
He couldn't hold back his own soft laugh when he heard you giggle happily before you said: “I can't believe you still want me...”
“It's you. It's always been you and it always will be you.”
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#ghosts can write#💜 s.r.#--- mismatched🧦
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School Play
There’s another school play in which you act as the main lead because Simeon thought you’d be perfect for the role, there’s no need to cast anyone else (much to Asmo’s dismay). He’s seen your performances before, and you’re one of the easiest actors to work with compared to the brothers that constantly got their lines wrong during rehearsals. Simeon can get frustrated, and it seems that the brothers feel the same way, if not terrified of the angel’s sudden change in attitude as soon as he plays the director. You’re just relieved he’s not that way towards you.
Of course, who wouldn’t want to see a play written by Christopher Peugeot himself. The theme was a thrilling love story wherein the hero would have to go through a long journey to rescue the one they love, which was you. They would meet so many characters that would either support the hero or become an obstacle on his way to defeat the cruel lord that locked you up.
You’re the main love interest, and you sat on the side watching as everyone else in the room debated and fought each other on why they should have the main lead role, why they should be the hero who would rescue you. Seeing as how the atmosphere in the room is starting to have murderous intent, Simeon finally thought of a solution that would be fair to everyone. Draw lots.
That’s how you ended up with Solomon as your hero, and Barbatos acting as the main villain and the rest playing a support role. They either help Solomon with the journey or act as one of Barbatos’ minions to try to stop him from his advances. Everyone could only blame their luck, though to say that Solomon was happy about his part is an understatement. Meanwhile, Barbatos does adore the parts where he keeps you all to himself, however he does not enjoy the scene where he had to terrorize a town since Diavolo’s character, a commoner (which he loves to play), is one of the victims that the hero finds which eventually sets the tone of the play to move forward. It takes a lot for Barbatos not to run to his master’s side while he was acting out his death.
Solomon is always ready to rehearse his scenes with you, and when it’s about lines talking about you, Simeon is impressed at how quickly he can memorize them. But then again, if they’re all about how much he adores you then it’s not difficult to remember at all. Lucifer and the others hate playing supporting characters where they have to hear about how much Solomon loves you. It’s bad enough they had to play the role of helping him, but there are several minutes of dialogue with his character telling them how important you are to him and how he needs to find you quickly! It took several practice rehearsals for Mammon to say his lines without sounding so forced or annoyed at him when his role is to literally help Solomon through the journey.
Levi is quite happy with his role as the costume designer because there’s no way his envy wouldn’t flare up if he had to stand there and listen to that. That would’ve flooded the stage if he lost all control, so he decides to use headphones and blast music when it’s Solomon’s scene and only take it off once it’s you.
Satan would play the role of the narrator, and while he normally enjoys the part he got, it’s quite irritating that he has to tell the love story between you two, even if it’s merely a work of fiction. His claws threatened to tear holes into the script, but he kept himself calm and collected. They decided to put a leather cover binding to avoid that happening, and Satan actually likes how his own personal script looks like a book now.
Lucifer is questioning why Simeon would write such a piece, given how most lines are so sickening and romantic. The angel wanted to tell a tale of lovers that could overcome everything, though he omits the fact that he really did have you in mind when he was writing this. Maybe he projected a little too much of his feelings, but the play still had more elements regardless that a lot of the audience would be able to enjoy. The action, the drama, and the tension that could keep everyone at the edge of their seats.
What Simeon did not expect is for the brother’s self control to snap. Maybe he should’ve thought about that when he wrote down that kiss scene. It’s a page he kept between you and Solomon, as he knew that rehearsals would’ve been a disaster if they knew how the story would actually end. Of course he did ask for your permission, if this is something you’re comfortable with and he would rewrite the part if he needed. You don’t mind, and you understand why this was kept private.
So when the day of the play came, everything was going smoothly. At least according to Simeon’s high standards.
Solomon and Barbatos really do seem to play the perfect role. A good villain doesn't need to yell, it comes with the composure they bring in the story that sometimes people wonder if Barbatos is really acting. The fight scenes were also phenomenal whenever Solomon would use some sort of imagery magic to make it more realistic, sparkes and effects flying in the air as they fought until Barbatos eventually fled, claiming defeat but he will be back for you one day.
What the brothers thought was a successful play became something they dreaded when you and Solomon continued the scene. These were lines they’ve never heard before, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess where this was heading. Satan is furiously flipping through the script trying to see where this was coming from, but this part was hidden from the Avatars on purpose.
“Oh how I longed to hold you like this in my arms.” Solomon says as he pulls you in an embrace that lingered longer than the brothers would like while they watched from backstage.
“Did you truly miss me that much?” You say, meant to be a half tease to the hero as you returned the hug. It’s a romantic reunion that the audience has been waiting for.
“More than you could ever think.” Solomon sounds so convincing. He says his lines as if you two were truly apart for so long, that there’s disbelief in his voice like this was all a dream and he would wake up to find that his journey is not over, that you were still locked away. But he has you in his arms, and that’s all he needs to ground himself. “Each time I see the crescent moon, I’m reminded of the smile that graced your lips. It pains me whenever I turn to my side and realize that you’re weren’t with me.”
Solomon brushes the hair away from your face before cupping your cheek, looking at you so lovingly that you feel your heart skip a beat, almost forgetting that you’re acting out a scene. But to the sorcerer, he doesn’t need to act. “Tell me, will you grace me with those lips?” He asks, and that’s the cue for you to slowly lean forward to seal the deal.
“HOLD IT!”
Both if you freeze before turning back to see Mammon pointing the sword prop at Solomon. The sorcerer is confused, and perhaps a little irritated that his moment with you was ruined. It would’ve been a perfect way to end the play. “What are you doing?” Solomon asks with furrowed brows.
“That’s my line! Get ya grimy hands off em!” Mammon growled, taking a few steps forward.
“You’re not even supposed to be part of this narrative.” Solomon reminds the demon, warning him for ruining the scene.
“You claim that as so,” Satan says as he appears by his brother’s side in a puff of green flames, looking quite pissed. “How dare you rewrite the ending to your liking, and then use the Narrative as your shield. You should be ashamed of yourself, filthy thief.” the demon hissed as he threw the script he fashioned into a book across the stage. The brothers fully believed they were deceived with the script, and that Solomon had something to do with it.
The audience are now all captivated at the scene unfolding before their eyes as they watched the Narrator throw the book across. Perhaps the book told the whole scene, and that Solomon actually rewrote the ending according to his will since they assumed that script was an actual prop to keep the story going. “Was the hero actually manipulating the whole scene?” “What a crazy twist!” “Wait, so who's the real lover?” “Were they tricked to think that Solomon was the real love interest?!”. Whispers rang in the air as they were all made to believe this was still part of the play
That might be the only way for them to salvage what could’ve been a successful performance: to keep acting. Solomon reluctantly lets go of you before standing up to face the two demons. “I can’t believe you all would cause a scene, after all we’ve been through. After all they’ve been through.” Solomon says as he gestures to you, who is just as confused as the crowd.
“Ah, so you acknowledge our efforts and yet you get to keep them for yourself?” Belphie steps in on the other side of the stage, with Beel following behind him. “Kinda greedy isn’t it? Even greedier than him.” Belphie says while pointing at Mammon. That somehow got the audience to laugh.
“That’s pretty selfish too, and that’s coming from me!” Asmo finally chimes in, holding onto his tulle costume while he stomps into the stage. He wouldn’t let his brothers steal all the spotlight, and there was also no way he was going to let Solomon just kiss you like that on the stage. If it were him instead, you both would be the talk of the week! “Honestly dear, that’s quite a big low. Even for someone like you.”
Simeon is just thankful that Lucifer and Levi didn’t even chime in on this monstrous mess of a show, he has their pride and anxiety (respectively) to thank for. Despite the sudden improv show, it seems that it captured the audience’s attention… just not in the way that he hoped.
Solomon is now putting you behind him with a magic spell flaring by the palm of his hand. Nothing harmful, just something that’s more flashy than anything. The other demons are closing in on you both, trying to make up lines on why you should choose them. Of course, a fight breaks out and everyone in the audience cheered for whoever they were rooting for to win while you stayed behind and watched the chaos unfold.
It took one wrong spell after another for the boys to lay on the ground, groaning after Satan and Solomon’s stun lock spell collided into something bigger that it affected everyone in the stage except you since you stayed behind. You wondered what you could say or do to salvage this as the audience is watching intently on what happens next.
Thankfully, Lucifer finally steps on the stage, calm and collected as ever while he tries to avoid the groaning actors. He played as one of the Barbatos’ henchmen that Solomon defeated, so seeing his reappearance was definitely a shock to the crowd. You prayed that Lucifer has a plan on getting you out of this mess without ruining the play you all worked so hard for. Luckily, Simeon told him a few lines that could salvage the play and save you from the embarrassment.
He grabs your hand and kisses the back of it, a small smirk appearing on his face before he continues. “I’m here to collect you, under my master’s orders. It seems that he was right, that none of these heroes were ever deserving of your heart.” Lucifer says while he stares at his idiotic brothers with discontent, managing to stay in character just like you hoped. “Luckily, we don’t need to rely on cheap tricks and underhanded tactics.”
Solomon groans, rubbing his eyes profusely but his vision won’t focus yet due to the spell. “Don’t listen to them…” He says, desperately trying to reach out to you. Lucifer only lets out a low chuckle as he watches how pathetic the hero has become.
“Come with us, and we’ll be sure to prove them wrong.” His line is full of confidence with a slight mischief, and the crowd cheers as the lights go dark and the curtains drop, signaling the end of the play.
What should’ve ended in a happy love story became some sort of twist. People now assume the hero might’ve manipulated the scene which they find amusing if the good guy of the story was not who they pictured to be, and the villains may actually have a shot of winning your heart. It’s the talk of the school, and people are praising Simeon for writing such a crazy plot twist, which he finds a little frustrating since it’s the only part he didn’t actually plan. He’s not sure if he wants to thank the brother’s recklessness or not.
Even after Simeon explained the hidden parts that were reserved just for you and Solomon since he expected something like this could happen at the rehearsals, he never really anticipated that they would jump in the scene like that on the actual performance itself. Now he has to write another play in the future as many expressed their wish to see what happens between you and the dark lord Barbatos.
Needless to say, many of the brothers were strung upside down by their feet after the show.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#shall-we-date-obey-me#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me headcanons#obey me scenarios#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me simeon#obey me solomon#i forgot to add luke omg
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