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whalesforhands · 2 days ago

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what’s yours is mine (12/?)

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pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru

You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.

What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)

“The plan goes this way—“ Suguru’s finger taps against the wrapping paper upon your brand new desk, smoothing against the surface Mama had skillfully wrapped over it to somehow, in her own words;

“Makes the surface last longer.”

(You kinda get it. It keeps it looking ‘new’, you know? Who doesn’t like new things?

Wait— You think you were supposed to be listening.)

Your shoulder brushes against Geto’s as you stare on thoughtfully, even when pressed this close against him, even when repeating his words over and over again inside your little head and even as your heart starts beating a little too fast for your own liking.

(Getting nerves right before the start of this impromptu mission is never good. Being afraid is never good.)

“Are you okay?”

You snap out momentarily to hear a voice close to your ear, his breath cool from the melting bowl of ice cream nearby as his fingers graze over your own, purple eyes alight with a gentle worry.

“I-“ You don’t really know. “I’m good.”

Just nervous, you guess. He needs to continue talking so that you have this plan memorized to a T. Needs to keep talking so that your brain stops running all over the place.

“Say something if you get lost, okay?”

If. If? If… So many ‘ifs’ could happen. Too many for you to relax, too many for you to panic about and far too much for you to suck it up and go in blind.

“Since Mijou-san’s home isn’t too far from where Satoru and I will be hiding, we should be able to keep track of you even when you’re inside.” A finger points at the crudely drawn image of a girl, her home an even more scrawled out looking box with purple crayon streaks jutting out to represent the cursed energy activity.

“And then all ya gotta do is get in there and exorcise it!” A snowy head pokes itself inbetween the shoulders that were pressed against each other, his chin settling on them as you hear Suguru click his tongue just as an arm winds around your own.

“It’ll be,” His hand slams confidently down against the table, shaking it with its sheer triumph. “Your 1st ever unofficial mission!”

(You can even see the small fangs peeking out whenever he grins. Looks like being an Alpha didn’t come with accelerated puberty, even if he was the Gojo Satoru.

You’re happy he at least remains cute. At least that’s not an ‘if’.)

“Shouldn’t we be— Um, telling Kimiko-san?” Because she is literally the only trusted adult you know who will actually make sense of the Jujutsu system and… Exorcism.

(You’re not nervous, you swear you’re not.)

Suguru perks up. “I did think about it and— Mmf!“

“Nope!” Gojo Satoru even leans into you, his hand pressed backwards and muffling poor Suguru’s face as Satoru’s nose nearly brushing against your own from his close proximity. “Suguru’s last plan sucks!”

He stares you down with those far too familiar, far too unblinking eyes of his. “I scoped out the area after ya told me about it, and the cursed energy was like—“

His index and thumb squish together, leaving a minuscule space barely even caught by your now squinted eyes, before it teasingly reaches out to tap against your nose.

“Satoru, if you would just let me talk, you dam—“

“Thissss much! So y’er good cause it’s obviously small fry anyway!” Because no way will the likes of that annoying girl have any sort of major curse.

You stare into his eyes. Blink once, twice. Maybe thrice. And maybe, it’s the way Gojo Satoru looked so excitable, looked so confident that has you tottering over your mind.

(Because you don’t really think you believe in yourself.)

“But…” You take another breath in as you pat his cheek. “What if I fail?”

Like that time with that quiz you thought you would pass; studying all night only to barely even be able to understand next day’s questions. Or maybe even that time where you thought playing volleyball was going to be a piece of cake—

“Pahh! That second time was cause ya weren’t good enou—“

Before a fist unceremoniously lands upon your cute friend’s head, bonking him and making his knees buckle and crash to the soft carpeted ground of your living room.

“Ow!” It didn’t exactly do much damage. “What gives, dummy?! Ya didn’t have to hit so hard!”

“You need to stop watching your words, Satoru.” Suguru’s brows are furrowed and irritated, eyes narrowed and turned into a glare. “I told you so many times.”

“What?! (name) doesn’t mind!” And he’s grappling onto your legs from the floor, his arms wrapped around them in a hug as you nearly stumble— Barely catching yourself by using his fluffy head of hair for balance.

You think you can hear them arguing. Think you can feel your heart racing as you stare into space. And definitely think you might have a chance to finish up the remaining ice cream since they’re so preoccupied with arguing.

You hope it goes exactly as planned.

——

“Oh… It’s just you?” Mijou Kana looks almost disappointed when you arrive at her gate, dressed in your most formal-casual-smart-appropriately cute outfit that you had mulled over for far too long before arriving here.

Who doesn’t want to make a good impression? Especially when you’re at another person’s house for the very first time.

“Why’re ya even takin’ so long to decide?” Gojo Satoru is thoroughly unamused as you comb through the clothes in your closet, his feet kicked up in the air as he lays on your hastily rolled out futon, his hair slightly damp from taking a shower and his eyes glaring at your form.

(You’re starting to think he’s treating your home as his own now.)

“Ya don’t even dress up ta see me or Suguru.” He’s frowning, pouting and every word that can describe his face in one emotion; Annoyed.

(You’ve seen how many ‘guests’ have hurriedly patted down their hair, dusted off their expensive clothes and powder their noses with exquisite looking makeup on the rare occasion that you visit the Gojo household.

He turned them all away anyway. That must mean that Satoru prefers casual clothing more than anything, right? You’ll make sure to try to whisper it to one of them next time.)

“Because you already like me, right?” You don’t need to impress him, you think. It’s said soft enough to carry over to his ears, in a tone so delicate and sweet—

All because that was how you always talked to him.

So you turn, a plain looking shirt in your hands as you show it off to him. This should be considered ‘nice’ to him, right? It isn’t exactly what you had in mind, but having his approval would definitely help build confidence.

“What about this one—“

You can’t see him. Not when he has already hurriedly pulled your soft blankets over his head, your eyes catching a glimpse of red just before he had fully taken refuge inside as it twitches.

Looks like you won’t be getting an answer.

“You tried inviting the others, right?” She’s slightly pensive, a bit rushed in her words; and definitely looked agitated. Like she was expecting more of you, like you disappointed her.

(Technically, they are here. Not so far away and watching you intently.)

“Mhm. Satoru had…” You take a deep breath in. “A violin… Competition. Shoko didn’t feel like coming and Suguru hates yo— Going into new neighborhoods because his mother thinks they’re bad luck.”

(Lying isn’t exactly your strongest forte.)

“Oh.” Her eyes look off into the side, briefly flashing onto the ground and back onto you. Even as her gaze pinned onto you— It didn’t feel like she was quite looking at you at all. “I see.”

Mijou Kana was always quite the strange girl to you. Always so friendly, so generous with her smiles… Yet she always feels so far away. You never really could tell what she was thinking about.

Do you regard her as a friend? No— Not really.

Do you think she’s a nice girl? Definitely.

Do you want to help her with the curse? Yes. Of course.

(That’s why you’re here, aren’t you?)

The outside of her kind of big home is nice, you think. All pretty and tidy and new looking, metal fences coated with a perfect shine, the paint on the house perfect— Not at all chipping. So picturesque, so pretty.

What a nice place she lives in.

But the inside was plainer, more rough. As if all the budget had gone into maintaining the outward appearance of this mini mansion— And totally foregoing the interior.

(Not exactly cozy, but it’s still very nice. Satoru would probably call this poverty, though.)

“Kana.” Her tone is rough when it calls for Mijou’s first name, throaty and coughed out as if it was raw and hoarse. As if she had had something terrible for her voice not too long ago—

“Who is that?”

(Cigarettes smell bad. Your Papa smells like this too.)

“M-Mother, I told you we had a guest today…” You hear something clink as the woman stumbles over herself, the neck of a bottle clenched tightly in her hand— As it clangs against the wall, just shy of breaking as you blink in confusion.

(Certainly. This isn’t right etiquette for having guests over, you’re pretty sure. Saya-chan would rank this pretty high on an ‘inappropriate’ tier list.)

It doesn’t shatter, but that wasn’t what caught your attention. No, not at all. Past the bottles of empty wine bottles and aluminum beer cans, past the shadowy interior and dimly lit hallways—

Cursed energy pools.

“I made a friend, Mother. Just like you asked—“ She drags you closer, pulling you by the sleeve and presenting you, yet her body was positioned behind— And almost as if she was using you as a physical shield.

You felt it before you even saw it. You’re no Gojo Satoru, not even a lick close to the amount of sheer talent Geto Suguru has— But Satoru was right about the amount.

(Maybe only a little bit off? It feels like it’s increasing.)

You blink. Your fingers twitch and your heart quivers. That’s a human, right? Mijou Kana was confirmed to be unable to see them, unable to wield cursed energy. So—

What exactly are you looking at right now?

No curse, no grotesque creature slithering around her mother, no looming shadow on the ground the hovered near.

No physical form.

Therefore, it was not something you can exorcise— Not without getting rid of the source. Not without harming the humans you were meant to protect.

Because it was simply… Her. Dark energy emanates from the woman herself, brimming and overflowing as you take in her drunken and haggard appearance.

(You can’t even see her face anymore— So darkened by her own aura that it hid her human form.)

It’s scary. Daunting. Heavy. It makes you feel helpless, makes you feel scared.

You know how curses are made. Stemming from the negative emotions of humans, taking form from the accumulation of hate, of regret and disgust and animosity.

Curses are the bad ones. Curses are the ones that bring humans sadness and grief.

(So getting rid of the Curses means helping the Humans, right?)

“But she’s not any of the ones I told you about, right?” She looks annoyed, gruff and— Scary. So overcome by the shadows of her cursed energy as it swallows her and makes your eyes swirl. “So uneducated that she can’t even greet me properly.”

(How exactly do you exorcise this?)

“N-no, but she’s—“

“Tell your little,” Her stare pins onto you, lips curled into a sneer that you can’t see as if to mock your very existence. “Friend to prattle along if they’re already done.” Her stance was clumsy and sloppy, as if her feet were walking in the same direction— At the same time.

“We don’t need other poor vermin in this house.” It’s spat out. So vile, mean, rude and goes against everything that you thought mothers were.

She’s so cruel.

She stumbles again, her arm gruffly pushing past your shoulder as your own cursed energy responds in tandem, sparking against the area she had brushed just as she yells—

Skin on skin contact. Trying to exorcise her energy… Would just harm her.

“Fuck!” And she shoots her eyes towards you, glaring deeply as she loses her grip on the glass bottle. “Fucking brats…”

It shatters, yet she pays no attention— Stumbling up the stairs and off to her bedroom.

“Make sure to clean that up, Kana!”

“…yes, Mother.” She’s despondent, staring at her feet and the worn out rug beneath her— Trailing slightly to the broken pieces of glass that she is now responsible for as you spot her hands unclench and her shoulders sagging downwards.

“I guess you weren’t enough at all.” It’s muttered quietly, said so softly that you barely even catch it.

(Oh. You suppose you weren’t any help.)

Awkward silence swallows you both whole. Just the slight crinkling of glass against the wooden floors, and Mijou-san clearing her throat.

“Do you… Still want to stay, (last name)-chan?” There’s a smile so stiff on her face, her eyes upturned into tight squints that told— Begged you to say no.

Mijou Kana was a strange girl, after all— Someone that never let her true intentions show through her words. Yet, you think you kinda get what Suguru means when he says that she’s;

“Trying too hard to hide something too evident.”

(It must be painful. Why can’t she just be honest?)

“No—“ Don’t hesitate. “No, thank you. I forgot I had homework to do.”

“Oh right!” She claps her hands together, beaming that empty, empty smile that never seemed the way it looked. “The one Futari-sensei gave right? I thought I reminded you about that!”

(She didn’t.)

“Yea.” It’s better to just agree.

And as she walks you to the door, you can only think about how curses aren’t the only bad things in the world. Your eyes look back, following the thin slither of shadows up the staircase as you blink.

(You feel… Bad.)

You hope that energy manifests a physical curse. Something that you can exorcise, something that you can get rid of.

(You can’t let her live forever like that.)

Yet, as Mijou Kana waves you goodbye with that smile of hers and shuts the door just as you turn around; You just can’t help but feel that some people are simply miserable because they can’t help it.

(Mission failure.)

——

You’re 14 when you’re wiping down the blackboard, specks of chalk dust falling onto your hair and your slight coughs into the mask you were donning— At least you’re almost done.

It’s unfortunate that Mijou decided to skip out on cleaning duty. It must’ve affected her too much.

“It’s cute, isn’t it, Ieiri-san?” The keychain jingles as the girl awkwardly tries to keep conversation with the infamous Ieiri Shoko.

(Infamous for her looks! The pretty, blank-faced and blunt Ieiri Shoko! A simple remark from her would possibly end with you collapsing to your knees—)

“Could you,” A flick of her hair back as autumn-brown eyes dismiss the girl with an emotion you can’t quite explain, a blank, empty look in her eyes as she removes her lollipop. “Stop talking to me?”

It must’ve been quite the blow to poor Mijou-san. You pat your own hair, trying to shake off chalk dust and any remnants of dirt that had gotten onto you.

It’s not easy trying to accomplish a 2 person job with only half the manpower.

“Do you need help?” Your ears perk up just as you nearly trip over yourself from holding the too heavy bucket—

Geto Suguru.

“I just got back from the temple.” His hand brushes over his ears, tapping lightly against the black gauge earrings and tucking a stray strand of his hair back as he smiles.

You stare. Maybe for a bit too long, your eyes concentrated on the way he just looked so, so pretty— Before your sight gets covered by his hand waving over your eyes.

“Thank you.” It’s said with a prettier chuckle, amused and with a blush so pleasant upon his skin.

(You think you’re going to embarrass yourself one day. Curse your mouth that runs without you noticing.)

You don’t even notice that he’s already gotten hold of your wrist, slipping a simple black string bracelet around it as

“The school allows simple accessories,�� His touch lingers, warm and gentle against you as his purple eyes trail upwards. “We don’t have to worry about getting in trouble.”

Oh.

“I don’t think I’m that plain.” You pout, obviously disheartened by the implication and letting the very obvious simply fly over your head. “Shoko thinks—“

And Suguru only laughs. Wholeheartedly. Cutely.

“I think you’re pretty with or without accessories.” A pat to your head. “But because I gave this one to you,” A tap against your wrist.

“You’re extra pretty.” And a smile to soothe your heart.

Always so charming, always so— It makes him not want to say it. As expected of Geto Suguru, much to a certain person’s chagrin. Because it’s impossible for someone to be that appealing, right? It’s too pretentious, too— Full of shit.

“Hmph.” And Gojo Satoru looks dissatisfied, his cheeks stuffed to the brim with sweet, sticky red bean mochi as he chews.

Angrily.

He shouldn’t be, you know? A similar bracelet sits on his own wrist, a version that exactly matched yours. If he placed them together they’d be identical, would be the perfect pair that matched the studs on Suguru’s ears. Yet, even as he watches the both of you in front of him, busily writing away and studying…

Why does he feel like he’s lost somehow?

Was it the way you always look so fond of the little trinket? He’s bought you entire clothes before, you know? He doesn’t see you ogle them like crazy, doesn’t see you give him anything more of a—

“It looks nice today too, right, Satoru?” With your attentive eyes waiting on him to say something, say anything at all whilst dressed in the plainest, most boring thing he’s ever seen in his life.

He thinks you can’t be serious, as cute as you do look, that he needs to get Kimi-chan to get you prettier things, that you seriously have something wrong with your hea—

“Ya look okay.”

“(name),” His elbow is now on the coffee table, his hand propping his chin up as his stare pins onto you specifically. “Fix my hair.”

And you do so— Without even looking up from the passage you were trying to read, the wrist donning Suguru’s gift reaching towards Satoru— Before it’s grabbed out of the air and the sound of a metal clasp takes you by surprise.

A new bracelet. Shiny, compact, surprisingly extremely light— And very expensive looking.

“Hmph.” It’s satisfied, smug. As if he’s seen something that couldn’t get any better than this as he makes hasty final adjustments, throwing your wrist about as you’re unceremoniously tugged forward unwillingly.

“Wha—?” You haven’t exactly processed everything yet.

A hum, an annoyed, almost exasperated sigh from a certain black-haired friend as he pauses to watch the situation and Gojo Satoru’s triumphant words.

“Mine definitely looks better, right, Suguru?”

——

“Mama,” Your hands stop peeling the potatoes, its brown skin brushing against your arm as you stare blankly at it. “What’s your type?”

And she pauses. Just for a moment, just for that tiny little bit.

“Someone who can peel the potatoes evenly.” There’s even a small giggle tacked on at the end of it, as if she couldn’t hold the same monotone throughout the entirety of the sentence.

And you blush— Embarrassed. It’s not everyday that your own Mama makes fun of your potato peeling.

(And…! To be fair this was a new potato peeler! The tools of the future certainly seek to hinder your progress— As Saya-chan says, over engineering will only lead to more stress.)

“But to answer you,” A thoughtless hum as she gently continues to chop up the mushrooms. “I have no preference.”

It’s only the next line that gets you thinking.

“Humans are all… Different, after all.” So nonchalant, so passive. If it were any other person, they’d do a double take. If it were any other person, they’d be confused; especially with that odd tone of voice.

(But you’re you.)

“Then I think you’re the best one.” She’s gotta be, right? Who else would take the mantle if not her?

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

So basically, from this conversation… She wouldn’t approve of anyone you’d bring home.

(“My ideal type?” Ito Saya has her hands gingerly placed on her cheek, a thoughtful look on her face before she lets a sweet smile take over, coupled with a cute laugh to boot.

“Somebody my mother likes!”)

Saya-chan and dating. 2 words you’d never thought you would ever live to hear. She’s your idol, your bias, your one and only— Could you really handle her giving all her cute fanservice to someone else?

“Then… What kind of person would you want me to date, Mama?” It’s rhetorical. It’s not like you have anyone in mind, lest Saya-chan came to your home and gave you the privilege of proposing to her.

But it’d be interesting to know. Just because. It’s definitely not because Mijou-san asked. Not at all.

(“You don’t even have a type, (last name)-chan?” Her eyes still have that same faraway look, her face in that neutral, almost blank smile that you’ve come to get so used to.

“You’re kinda boring. Don’t you ever have your own opinion?”)

There’s no hesitation this time in your Mama’s reply, no other words needed— As if she had had already came prepared long before you even thought about it.

“Someone sincere.”

“What does that even mean?” You’re both 15 when Ieiri Shoko is laying back on your futon, all regards for the ‘proper, ladylike’ image gone without a trace as her shirt flips up and her shorts ride up her hips.

Summer is hot, after all.

“Maybe someone like Saya-chan’s boyfriend?” You’re lying next to her, sweaty hands lazily entangled with each other as you stare up at the ceiling.

(“Isn’t she in some dating scandal right now?”

“She doesn’t deserve it…! My Saya-chan deserves to date and marry whoever she wants to find happiness!”)

There’s a silence in-between the both of you. It’s not uncomfortable, it’s not awkward. It’s just there because the both of you allow it. A chime of your brand new phone breaks it, disrupts that thin barrier of laziness that overtook your laziness as you reach for it.

“Is it Geto?” And she knows simply because she has never seen you text or call anyone other than 4 specific people; inclusive of herself.

“Mhm. Suguru wants to come over.”

She stays silent, not even moving to adjust her clothes as she lets the breeze of your fan flow through her hair.

“Tell him to bring ice cream if he wants to.” She can just imagine the boy spotting your slightly open window, watching as your curtains shifted ever so slightly in the summer breeze. A thought would probably pass through him, 1 that would make him pick up his cellphone, his eyes never leaving that ajar window.

“Ah— But you already made Satoru buy them.” She did. It was cheeky, was just a surefire way for her to get something out of him.

(Because if he even wanted an invite to hang out with you on the day she had personally ‘reserved’, he better listen close and listen well.)

“Make ‘em bring extra.” She pushes herself up slightly. “It’s gonna be tax for daring to disturb us.”

That makes enough sense, you think. A whole lot of sense, and not because this sweltering weather is making you crave too many cold things.

“Oi.” Not too long passes when he’s already made his way in, not at all mindful of manners as your door opens to reveal— A not at all sweating Gojo Satoru.

(Infinity, he says. Must be nice to have free sunscreen and UV light reflector. Your Mama would love that.)

His socked feet pad against your floor, stopping just shy of the futon he’s all too familiar with as the plastic bag he carried rustling with its familiar contents.

“I didn’t know what Shoko liked so I just bought whatever.” Maybe it’s the 1st time you notice just how tall he’s gotten in these short years. Especially when he’s towering over you, crossing his arms and watching you intently— As if he was expecting you to say something.

(…did you do something wrong?)

“Satoru.” There’s a smile on your face, saying his name with that familiar softness. There’s a quaint, polite look in your eye and an innocent tilt of your head. “Did you buy your favourite too?”

(You’re kind of craving that super deluxe, ultra premium choco-vanilla-strawberry swirl.)

And he frowns. Quickly. Immediately. As if it soured his whole mood and as if he hated your response.

“Is that all I get after going through all that trouble?” He’s huffing, before plopping down onto your soft floor before you, crossing his legs and grumbling, his posture slouched over and his lips in a pout.

Ah.

So your hand reaches up, gently brushing away locks of pure, snowy white as you press the back of your hand against soft— Pleasantly non-sweaty skin.

(His skin is so nice.)

“It must’ve been hot, right?” You hope he didn’t get heatstroke. Not that he even could, but it didn’t hurt to check.

And blue eyes just stay extremely locked onto you. A sound caught in his throat that makes you worry slightly just as you’re about to pull back.

“It was!” His ears are reddening as you nod along, listening intently as you use your hand to fan his face.

(It really must be hot outside. He’s burning up.)

“It was soooooo hot out there!” His cheeks can’t help but heat up as you continue to brush back locks of white— All in cute efforts to let him cool off more.

(Does he need a fever patch? It’s quite worrying to see him like this.)

“I could barely even stand it, ya know?” He’s hoping you pick up an ice cream bar and feed it to hi—

“Are you both done flirting yet?” Ieiri Shoko is thoroughly unimpressed as she bites off another chunk of the GariGari-kun. It’s only slightly chilly, only that little bit biting. Yet, if you were to ask her;

She’s only slightly bothered by it.

“The ice cream’s melting.”

And when Geto Suguru’s knocking on your bedroom door, his head politely poking in— He’s only met with one prodding question.

“Oiiii! Suguru!” An arm wraps around his shoulder, pressing all of its weight onto him as it threatened to drag him down to your bedroom floor— To have a face full of your carpet, that is.

“What’s your type?”

And there’s only a twitch of his hand, his smile barely staying on his face before Gojo’s hand was grabbed, barely even activating Infinity in time before the entirety of his body was flipped over Geto’s shoulder and onto the floor.

(“Cheater.”

“More like y’er too slow.”)

So he finds himself here. On your floor, sitting just in front of you as you pull at his face and awe at his fangs. Your fingers are poking around at the sharp objects, and his cheek twitches from soreness.

You really need to stop asking for things with your pleading eyes. It’s hard for him to deny them.

“And you’ve grown really tall, too…” Your hand pokes at his hard arm. “Did Kimi-chan give you both some sort of cursed energy imbued potion to make you both so big?”

“If she did, we’d give both you and Shoko some,” There’s even a gruff huff as Satoru rolls his head onto your shoulder. “Ya both need it real bad.”

(“Saya-chan’s boyfriend is pretty big and tall, too… Do I need to drink more milk?”

“Ah. Isn’t the guy she’s dating some sort of athlete?” Suguru’s words kind of sting when they interrupt your train of thought.

Tall. Big. An outstanding athlete.

You’ve lost.)

“I’ll never be able to date Saya-chan…”

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nvy’s aftertalk:

i’m trying my best to make it romantic ok :(. pls reblog since tumblr doesn’t like showing my work in tags :(

#jjk x reader #satosugu x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader

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tashibum · 2 hours ago

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To Own, But Not To Share (IV)

Part 1&2 Part 3

Emperor Geta x Female Reader

Chapter Summary: You and Geta admit your true feelings to each other

Chapter Warnings: SMUT, 18+, light choking, dirty talk, spooning sex, cumshot, slave to fiancee?? 4.1k words. Read on AO3

The L Word

His feelings for you were not fitting for an emperor. With his power, he should take things by force and have no mercy.

Yet, he found himself at a temple once a week, on his knees praying. The same god that gave him you, he prayed to Cupid that his arrow would strike your heart as well. Geta gave offerings of cows and sheep to please him. Anything the god wanted, he would supply him with.

Geta could just claim you as his. No one could say no to him, you would have no choice. You could be ordered to say the words “I love you” back to him when he said them. You could fake your happiness to him and the Roman people.

But Geta wanted the true feeling. Such a shame it’s the one thing he could not buy or force.

He granted you your own chambers within the palace. Privacy was something you had never had before. Your family home was small, and then becoming a slave meant you had even less. In your chambers you could shut the door and no one would disturb you. Geta made sure to let everyone know that he was the only person who could open the door without knocking.

In your room, Geta sent all your clothes and jewellery to be placed in your wardrobe and dressing table. All of these possessions were what he had given you, and you were aware he could take it all away from you if you displeased him. Slaves were not meant to own anything. They were meant to be owned.

Your prized possession was one of Geta’s robes. He had left it behind one night and instead of informing a maid, you hid it. When you slept alone, you would take it out from within your dresses and hold it as you slept. You told yourself not to develop feelings for him, you were simply his favourite at that given time. You were sure once more time passed, he would grow bored of you and want someone younger, skinnier and sexier.

When the emperors met with the senates, you spent your time replenishing Geta and Caracalla’s goblets with wine. Geta had made it clear that you would not be leaning your body over any of the senates, there were other slaves that could do that.

“Is she a woman or a witch?” Caracalla asked his brother from beside him, looking over at you at the edge of the room. Dundus sat on his shoulder and ate the occasional grape he held up for her.

Geta gave a confused look. “A woman. What would make you think she has sorcery?”

“She has bewitched you. She is a slave, yet you give her unfair privileges. Jewels that are ours, you give to her.”

Geta was pleased his brother got straight to the point. His issue with you was that you were being given things Caracalla thought to be his.

“Her role as a slave has changed,” Geta put bluntly. He had not informed you of any change, yet knew you must have known something was going on.

“To what? Chief of staff?” His brother huffed mockingly.

“She…….”, Geta paused, thinking of how to word his strong emotions.

“You like her, don’t you? More than you should.” Caracalla had stuck in the knife; now he was going to twist it. “You are her owner. You literally bought her, brother. She sees you as nothing more than that.”

Geta shook his head. While he did not know if your feelings matched his in intensity, he knew, at the very least, you liked him.

“You are an emperor. Weakness like this should have you de-throned,” provoked Caracalla.

“I will court her,” defended Geta, unsure of himself.

“Oh, she will become an Empress of Rome? That really is a promotion! Need I remind you that emperors do not marry plebeians. She is below you. And her cunt isn’t that impressive,” Caracalla remarked from the time he fucked you.

Geta’s hand immediately rose and slapped his brother hard across the face, causing Dundas to hide behind Caracalla’s head.

The room went silent, all eyes now facing the twin emperors. Geta stood up and walked out of the room, his footsteps the only sound anyone could hear. You wanted to follow him to make sure he was okay, but knew better of it. It would be above your station.

Caracalla looked at you from across the room and patted the now vacant space next to him. You could not defy him, so went over, still holding a jug of wine to show him you would not stay with him for long.

“You’ve been promoted,” he declared.

“To what?” You timidly asked, not knowing if the smaller brother was being serious or not.

“Geta’s personal sex aid.”

And with that, you knew he was not serious.

“I do not see the appeal,” he tried to spite. He was hurt because you rejected him and favoured his brother. He would have been happy to share you if you wanted, but that first day put a sour taste in his mouth. The way you moaned for his brother, but was so hesitant and frigid for him.

You did not care though, you did not see any appeal in him either.

“I’ve felt your hole - I’ve felt better. Unless I have not felt the hole he favours.”

He raised his eyebrow at you, as though he wanted something he had been missing out on. The raspiness of his voice added to his perverted suggestion.

The thought made you tense up. Geta had done nothing to your other hole. The closest he had ever gotten to it was when he had been licking you, and his mouth went too low by mistake.

You stared at the door, trying to avoid looking the emperor in the eye after making such a remark, hoping that Geta would come in and rescue you from further embarrassment.

“I’ve been told I have more girth than him,” he bragged.

Please Geta. Please. You silently begged, not even knowing if he had left the building not to return. You did not want to speak to Caracalla about his cock in his attempt to seduce you.

“At the right angle, it can make women gush their sweet juices.”

You wanted the ground to swallow you up. A spontaneous death seemed sweeter than hearing Caracalla speak of such things.

Then, finally, Geta returned to the room after cooling down, but got riled right back up again when he saw you with him.

“You better go,” Caracalla justified, knowing his brother's territorial nature over you.

You walked away from him and Geta caught your arm as you passed him. He tugged you out of the room with him again and lead you into an empty corridor.

“What did he say?” He demanded. This close to his face, you could see his cheeks redden. He was terrified that his brother had said something to you about his feelings for you. He knew his brother would love to embarrass him and tell you that he loved you.

“Nothing,” you dismissed.

"Tell me!” He challenged, rage overtaking him again.

"He told me I was your sex toy. Then told me the size of his disgusting length,” you explained.

Geta’s demeanour cooled instantly. “I was worried he had filled your head with lies.”

You took ahold of his jaw and leant up to give him a gentle, sweet kiss. You then leant your head on him. As your fingers stroked his cheek, his hand rested on top of yours against his face.

“Of course not. His words mean nothing to me,” you comforted.

Geta pushed you off him to hold your face in his hands. He had never felt like this about someone before. As he stared into your eyes, the feeling in his abdomen returned. It was where Cupid had shot him before. Cupid did not need to use another arrow on him, Geta needed him to change his target to you. Then the thought occurred in his mind that maybe he felt this sensation because Cupid had just shot you, and it was his way of informing Geta. How Geta wished the Gods spoke to him in words and not riddles!

“Give me the jug. You can go back home to the palace to relax,” he requested. The thought suddenly appeared that you were working, and it upset him. Geta was sure of it now, you were going to be future Empress of Rome, and women of such status did not work.

You did not question him on his motives, but just gave him a smile as you headed to the horse and carriage waiting outside.

“Where is she?” Caracalla asked as Geta rejoined him to discuss politics.

“I thought I would drink straight from the jug,” he dismissed, reeling from how Caracalla spoke to his soon-to-be wife.

The following night he told you he had plans with you. You asked for more information, but he smirked, wanting it to be a surprise. Whatever it was, it required maidens fully prepping you for it. You were washed, shaved and had makeup put on. The anticipation made you sick with anxiety.

You were grateful when he finally said you were not leaving the grounds of the palace, not in the mood for social diplomacy. He held your hand has he lead you around the palace and when the doors to the gardens opened, your jaw hit the floor.

Candles lit a path towards the centre of the lawn where more candles were laid out in a heart shape. Inside the heart was a blanket and pillows. You were speechless by his romantic gesture. Geta had ordered complete privacy, so no one saw him in this vulnerable state. Tonight was the night he was going to tell you he loved you, so wanted everything to be perfect. He had to tell you sooner rather than later in fear his brother would beat him to it.

He held your hand as you lowered yourself onto the blanket. You sat crosslegged until Geta pulled you to lay on your back next to him. You rested your heads on the pillows and stared up into the night sky. With it being late at night, you held onto his arm as a source of warmth.

“The Gods have been so gracious to me,” Geta reflected. You could not share his optimism. A life enslaved was not something you were thankful for. You guessed you could be thankful to Fortuna for being bought by Geta and not someone else who would have abused you.

“You have a blessed life, Emperor,” you agreed.

Geta sat up and turned to you. “More than that. Venus and Cupid work in tandem up there,” he explained and pointed to the sky. “I never thought love to be true, until I met you.”

Your eyes went wide with the meaning of his words. He was thankful to the love gods for you. It made your eyes well up with tears. Was this an admission of love?

“I accepted my fate that I would be married to a princess from another land, all to strengthen Rome’s alliances. After all, marriage and love are not connected. However, spending time with you, it has made me desire both,” he cooed.

“I’m sure your future bride will be very grateful,” you encouraged. He wanted a wife, and you knew it could never be you. He was destined to marry a princess or a duchess. Definitely not a woman who fell into the slave trade as a teenager. You saw a different side to the emperor than everyone else. While others saw him as selfish and cruel, you only saw gentle softness. His words were so delicate that it was hard to keep your emotional distance. Everything about him was magnetic to you, but you tried to not be sucked in. It would hurt to much when he inevitably moved on.

You didn’t understand him, so he said it nice and simple for you, “I love you.” He looked like he was about to cry.

Three words, just three words, but they were huge. Bigger than you could properly comprehend. If he loved you, it would mean everything in your life would change again. You would go from being a nobody, to being respected and feared by the empire.

This meant you could stop your refrain. You could put down your walls and accept the feelings you repressed.

It had been silent for a few moments, and Geta got nervous that you would reject him. But you needed time to collate your words.

“I feel myself……..falling for you more everyday.”

It wasn’t those magical three words that Geta dreamt of you saying, but it was confirmation that it would come.

“Well, when you feel it, don’t hesitate to tell me,” he urged, and laid back down next to you. He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you against him.

“I’m sorry we met in such circumstances,” he whispered, oozing genuine sorrow. “You never deserved to be enslaved, by anyone.”

“I’m one of the lucky ones, but thousands of people out there still suffer. You must know what your subjects live through,” you commiserated. You thought back on all the conversations you’d had with the emperor, and couldn’t think of a discussion on Roman life. You knew everyone in Rome hated the Emperors, you’d hear your owners talk about it. They had little food, which meant you had even less.

“Of course there are people envious of the power and belongings I have,” he dismissed. You couldn’t tell if he was avoiding your criticism or genuinely did not know how tough life was for a Roman.

“If you want the public’s perception of you to be positive, maybe you could hand out food. Or end the public executions,” you suggested warily. No one was allowed to critique the emperors, it could end in your own public execution.

“Not even my wife yet and you’re bossing me around,” he joked, completely dismissing your serious proposal.

You didn’t know why you even bothered - even if you convinced him, Caracalla would never budge. So, you tried to push away the thoughts of how much everyone hated the man you desired.

“I would not be a virgin bride,” you argued.

“You will be a born again virgin on our wedding night,” he said, as though he had already thought over every detail of your wedding.

“Shall we abstain until then?” You questioned suggestively.

“Absolutely not. The gods do not wish that from us,” responded Geta.

You moved even closer to him in his arms. He was not hard under his toga, it helped you believe that he wanted you for you, and not just your body. He was content laying out here stargazing with you, he did not need to have sex with you to enjoy your company.

He walked you back inside with his arm wrapped around your hips.

“Do you want to stay in my chambers tonight, or yours?” He asked.

“Mine,” you answered, needing time alone to process everything that happened in the gardens.

“As you wish,” he replied and walked you to your door. Once at the doorframe, he took your hand in his, brought it to his mouth and kissed it. This gesture was what his subjects did to the emperors, never the other way around

“I will see you at breakfast, my amor,” he gushed before walking to his own guarded chambers.

You walked into your room and shut the door. After a second, you picked up one of your feather filled pillows and squealed into it as you jumped up and down with glee.

He loves me!

The Emperor of the empire loved you and wanted you to be his wife. It was anything beyond your wildest dreams. You thought of your family, how you became a slave to give them money, and now you would marry the richest man in the world. You wished you could tell them, but you didn’t even know if they were still alive. It had been years without contact.

You stripped down for bed, and decided tonight you would wear his robe. You laid on your mattress and let your hands caress the fine fabric of the robe as it covered you. Geta was the only thing on your mind. You pictured what your life could look like with him. He would take you to all his official meetings, you would meet all his generals and senators. You would be protected by the praetorian guards. You would give him heirs.

You held your lower stomach as you imagined cute little boys running around, calling you mama with their big, brown eyes looking up at you. They would have matching togas and armour with their father. You tried to picture Caracalla with his nephews, knowing his childlike nature would mesh well with theirs.

The image of your future family was so vivid in your mind, it was as though the gods gave you a vision.

The intense vision made you start to cry. You suddenly felt very empty. You wanted Geta to get you pregnant so you wouldn’t feel empty anymore.

You got up from bed and splashed your face with water the maids had left for you. You knew you were being ridiculous. He had only admitted his love for you an hour ago and you were already losing your sanity with daydreams of children that did not exist.

You took a cloth and began to wipe off the streaky makeup from your face. Geta was so soft, you could picture him doing this for you, gently rubbing the fabric over your face until you were clean. Everyone else could have their opinion of him, but you knew his heart. You knew he had a need to be adored and cared for, but he was so afraid of losing the throne, he only showed maniacal ruthlessness.

You knew that he made your heart beat go fast, and he filled your days with happiness. You knew that no one else could ever sweep you off your feet like he did, and there would be no one else for you except him.

Did you love him?

I think I love him.

You had the urge to run and tell him. He had to be told immediately. You cursed yourself for not saying it back to him during your date, but you didn’t want to look desperate. Plus, you weren’t sure. But now you one hundred percent knew.

You knew better than running in the corridors of the palace; you knew the guards would likely think you were going to ambush the emperors. Your bare feet slapped on the stone floors as you hurried your way past sculptures and paintings of past emperors and the gods. You finally reached the guards protecting Rome’s rulers, and were so eager to speak that you spoke far too fast and unclear for them to understand you.

“The emperors are not to be disturbed,” you were told, completely dismissed.

“Please, just ask Emperor Geta if I can enter his chambers. Tell him it’s an emergency. He’ll know it’s me,” you requested.

He huffed and trotted along to his leader, leaving you with several guards staring at you wearing a just robe that was clearly not yours.

When he came back, he didn’t even bother to speak to you, just moved to the side of the corridor to let you pass. When you reached his chambers, the door was already open and Geta was out of bed, pacing around the room in a robe. His hand was up to his mouth, biting his skin and nails in anxiety. He turned to see you when he heard you shut the door behind yourself. His worry for you turned into confusion when he saw his robe gracing your body.

“What-?” He asked, wanting to know how you got his clothes, but you cut him off.

“I love you,” you blurted.

His concerned face turned stunned, he did not believe his ears.

“What was that?” He urged.

You closed the distance between him so you could look into his big, brown, worried eyes as you said it again. “I love you.”

His breath stuttered in shock and he picked you up as though you weighed nothing. His hands carried you under your thighs and you wrapped your legs and arms around him like a koala. He pressed his plush lips against yours and kissed you, never wanting it to end. No one ever told him they loved him. Even as a youth, after his mother passed away, his father offered nothing but brutality. He never had any familial or romantic love, and now he had it, he would never let you leave him.

“Say it again,” he commanded.

You found it cute the way he wanted you to repeat those three words.

You moved your hands to hold his face, letting his fresh stubble scratch your fingertips. “I love you.”

“Again,” he whispered.

“I love you, Geta,” you said, staring into his eyes. Your fingers pushed back his wavy hair, so smooth without the sharp, pointy laurels in it.

He carried you to the bed and unceremoniously dropped you onto it. Your robe was loose and showed off your naked body. You thought perhaps Geta would take this moment to be intimate with you, but he took off his robe and simply laid against you.

“I want to wake up with my wife-to-be in my arms. Wedding preparations will begin in the morning,” he claimed.

You were a tad disappointed that Geta fell asleep without having sex with you, but took solace that you had the rest of your lives with each other, so had plenty of time to make up for it.

You didn’t know how long it had been when you woke up to Geta’s hand on your hip. You laid on your side with your back to him and assumed he was asleep, until you felt him sit up. He moved the robe you wore so your bottom was completely revealed to him.

You turned your head to face him and as you did, his fingers slid in between your folds.

“What filled your dreams, love? So wet already. I could slide my cock in here without needing to do anything first,” he teased.

He pushed his middle finger inside you and you nodded to him before letting your head turn back around to look at the wall. Having one of his fingers inside you felt better than one of your own. There was just something about it. Then you felt him add another finger, making you stretch to fit around him.

When he pulled his fingers out, he reached around to put them in your mouth. You eagerly licked and sucked your own juices off his hand. In doing so, you took his fingers as far as you could into your mouth, to tease what you could do if he so wished.

His hand went to his cock and the other held your hip again. He shuffled closer to you so your ass touched his hips and he slapped his hefty cock against your wet sex a couple of time before pushing the blunt head inside you. You bit your lip against your pillow as your body easily accommodated him

“The way you take me, it’s unlike anything else,” he purred from behind you.

Like this, he could push his entire length inside you and your body had no choice but to take it.

“This is where you belong,” you moaned, feeling blissed out.

One of his hands snaked under your neck and went to hold your breast. He alternated between squeezing and fondling to pinching your nipple - not hard enough to cause pain, but enough to show his want. Your hand reached behind you to feel his balls. They were sticky from where they kept slapping against your wetness.

“They’re so full,” you commented, causing him to grunt. “You have to empty them for me, okay love?”

Geta nodded against your hair, then moved his hand to the front of your neck to lightly choke you. You loved it - loved how the pressure on your throat and the pressure on your cunt was caused by him.

“I’m your girl. Tell me I’m yours,” you begged, wanting him to claim you.

Geta was working so hard on fucking you, only a weak “mine” left his lips from behind his head. To you, that wasn’t good enough.

“Say you own me,” you requested, but a mere grunt came out of his mouth. He was the emperor of Rome, he was as powerful as the gods, you had seen him yell plenty of times before, yet he struggled to vocalise his power in this moment.

“Say you own me!” You yelled, probably loud enough for the guards and Caracalla down the hall to hear.

“I own you. Pussy’s mine,” he rasped out.

He took both of his hands and used them to move your hips in rhythm with his thrusts. Soon, he pulled out of you and let his seed land on your ass cheeks. When the warmth hitting your body stopped, you turned over to lay on your back, not caring that his spend was now being rubbed into his robe and bed sheets.

“Did you…….peak?” Asked Geta, still trying to get his breath back.

You shook your head. It didn’t matter to you. You had made him cum, and pleasuring the emperor would forever be your priority.

“Next time, you tell me,” he objected and moved his way down the bed. You didn’t understand what he was doing, until he spread your legs. He didn’t give you any explanation or warning, he just went straight in and lapped at your folds. His two fingers entered you again, fucking you just how he knew you liked. Emperor Geta may have been a selfish leader, but he was not a selfish lover. He always wanted you to take pleasure from him, and tell him how much you enjoyed it.

His mouth concentrated on your clit as his fingers worked their magic inside you. As you reached your orgasm, you felt bad for forcing him to talk earlier. You could not judge him for not being able to speak when you could only muster out a quiet “cumming” as you exploded on his fingers.

“No one in Rome will know how sweet their Empress tastes,” he said from between your legs, licking clean your inner thighs before sucking his fingers. You smiled up at him to show you appreciated the compliment.

“There’s so much to get done,” he started. He stood up from the bed and put on a robe to wear before the maidens would come in to dress him. He sat next to you at the side of the bed and held your hand as he listed everything he wanted.

“I want new armour made for the day. You’ll need to be fitted for your dress. Flower arrangements will need to be made. I want games in the colosseum to celebrate. I want a feast. I want as many people to be there as possible.”

Geta went on and on about how he wanted the marriage ceremony and celebrations afterwards to be perfect. The only thing you wanted was for your family to be there, but knew it would be very unlikely.

@your-nightmaredoll @1950schick @justasmallbean

#gladiator #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta #joseph quinn #emperor geta fanfic

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letmereedusyou · 1 day ago

Text

i'm not yours

Daryl Dixon x fem reader

summary: Daryl is in a relationship with Leah (they live in Alexandria together, so completely different plot to what TWD sold us), and you have been friends forever now. He doesn't know but you love him and you finally decide to tell him.

warnings: some swearing, but nothing too crazy

A/N: this one broke my heart, I was listening to Conan Gray "Yours" and I thought it would be a great idea. Don't ask why Leah, it just fits the story the most and it's easier to write about someone who you actually dislike a little than someone like my sweet precious Connie. I know Daryl wouldn't be like that in any way, shape or form, but I wanted to write something that has a bit of a sad ending. Welp, here we are.

Knock knock knock.

The sound of it echoed through your house, and it made you jump in your place at the desk, where you were writing in your journal. You knew exactly who it was. You promised Daryl you will go with him for a scavenging trip, as you were his best friend, but also a real good scavenger. You knew you couldn't deny him when he asked you two days ago, and even if it means enduring your stupid heart beating fast every time you were around him.

Truth was, you were in love with Daryl for quite some time now. You couldn't remember when exactly it happened. It felt like day by day you heart was aching to be more to him. More than just a friend. To be able to touch him, kiss him, feel him against you, not only as a friend... but as something deeper.

You were going to tell him a few months back, but then he met Leah and everything changed. You could see how he looked at her. Even though his face did not let it show, his eyes told you that he was attracted to her. Hell, you knew way before he admitted to it. And then, stupidly, you pushed him to ask her out but he only gave you a look of "do not even go there" and waved his hand at you. It wasn't long after that, Leah decided to make a move herself. She asked him out and he said yes. Of course, he said yes. He was silently yearning for her since she showed up in Alexandria. It almost made you sick how much he was into her.

You tried to be happy for him, you really have. And a part of you is happy for him. He finally seems a bit more relaxed, smiles a little more, talks a little more. Leah had a good influence on him through the months - you couldn't deny that. But deep down, you wished you were the one who was making him that happy, that much more open.

With a sigh, you closed your journal and got up, making your way to the doors. You opened them, only to be greeted with a slight smile from Daryl and a nod. "Hey," he said. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," you say and you looked him up and down. He was wearing a weird, cape like thing. "The hell are you wearing?" you ask him, putting on your own jacket.

"A poncho," he says without missing a beat. He looked down at it and brushed an invisible fluff off it. "Why?"

"A poncho?" you raised you eyebrow, your lips curl into a smirk.

"Yes, a poncho," he says, rolling his eyes. "What's wrong with a poncho?"

"Nothing," you shake your head. "I just didn't take you as a poncho guy."

"Leah made it for me and it's quite warm," he shrugs his shoulders and looks at you with a slight smile. Of course, you thought to yourself, physically wanting to roll your eyes at it, but your smirk never falters. "I'll ask her to make you one. We'll both look like Robin Hood in the woods." You snort with laughter, stepping out of the house and following him to the gates.

Your heart was already thumping in your chest and it's only been mere minutes since you've been close to him. Your palms were sweaty. All you could think about was wrapping your arms around him and never letting him go. You knew you couldn't, but it was getting increasingly harder to be around him, knowing that him and Leah are playing house and being happy together.

If it isn't clear yet, you hate Leah. Pretty much everyone disliked her in Alexandria, but you were hundred percent sure you hated her most. Not because she was with Daryl, but she was just... so... bland. So boring. She had nothing going on for herself, she cries more than anyone you know, but yet somehow Daryl likes her? You found it strange. You found her strange. But you guessed that maybe she is only ever so bland in front of people, and she might be a bit more fun behind closed doors.

"Where are we going today?" you ask Daryl once you were out the gates, sounding casual and normal as always.

"I found some places, a couple miles out west and I wanted to check them out and see what we could find," he says, looking forwards. "We're running low on some medical supplies."

"Righto," you nod, focusing on the surroundings.

You walked and Daryl talked about Leah, non stop, like he didn't have any other topics to talk about with you. It was all 'Leah this... Leah that' and it really pissed you off, even though you didn't show it. You missed your usual banter and teasing. You missed the connection you formed over the years of friendship. Daryl quietens for a second before he speaks again.

"You should give Leah a chance, you know?"

"Kinda hard to give a chance to someone who has everything you want," you murmur.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

You stop in your tracks and your eyed widen realising that you said it out loud, instead of in your head. You turn to Daryl, who also stopped walking, and were looking at you with a raised eyebrow. You felt like your heart surely will jump out of your chest, in panic, under his questioning gaze.

"Nothing," you say, shaking your head.

"No, it's clearly something," Daryl presses and steps closer to you. "Why do you hate Leah so much? She's a really good person. If only..."

"Dear God, do you have anything else to talk about anymore?!" you roar, slinging your hands up in frustration. "I am so fucking sick of hearing you talk about her!"

"She's my..."

"Yeah, she's your girlfriend, got it!" you scoffed, the irritation building up inside of you. "You won't let me forget for even a minute!"

"What's gotten into you? Why are you acting like this?" he asks, looking you up and down, so clueless that it makes you blood boil and your face turns red. You clench your fists until your knuckles turn white.

The next words come out of your mouth with anger, frustration, so much fucking annoyance that you weren't able to stop them.

"Because I fucking love you! Because Leah gets to have you every single day of the week, while I have to watch you two from the side lines, kissing and holding each other and it makes me fucking jealous. Because I was supposed to be that person to you! Me!"

Daryl's eyes widen at your confession, and you keep looking at him. You swallowed hard, the realisation of what you just said finally hitting you and you close your eyes for a minute, trying to steady your breath. Everything seems to slow down around you, like someone switched the world to slow motion setting. Your body freezes up in place and when you open your eyes again, you see Daryl standing there, frowning.

"What the fuck, Y/N?" he asks, crossing his arms on his chest, his muscles stretch and roll under his checkered shirt. "Why would you ever tell me that?"

"I didn't mean to," you say but then you shake your head catching yourself on a lie. "That is a lie. I meant to... way before the Leah bullshit. But I've always chickened out."

"Before Leah? Y/N... How long has this been going on? And why the hell you thought that now is the best time to tell me?" his voice is cold and unforgiving. "I thought we were friends."

"We are!" you say quickly. "Of course we are friends."

"But you love me," he says slowly. "And now I know. How am I supposed to treat you now?"

"Just like you did before all of this," you say and you take a step closer to him. "Nothing needs to change. We can just forget about it."

He instinctively takes a step back.

OUCH.

You look into his eyes, your eyes pleading and questioning, like you were trying to search for answers in his. You wanted him to say that it is fine and that he will just forget about it, but he doesn't. Instead, he's standing there, his hands squeezing on the crossbow, looking at you like you've just stabbed him or something. Confusion on his face tells you he doesn't know how to deal with this information, knowing his best friend loves him in a romantic type of way, not the friendly way.

"Please, Daryl," you say, your head swing down, between your shoulders. "I'm still your best friend..."

"Best friend?" he scoffs.

OUCH AGAIN.

"Yes... Am I not?" you ask quietly, feeling the sting of the tears at the back of your eyes as you pray to God not to break down in front of him.

"You were, until you fell in love with me," he says without skipping a beat and you feel like your heart is being ripped out your chest. "Do you really expect me to just forget about all of this, and continue to be friends with you?"

"What do you mean?" you ask, your voice really weak.

"How would I know you won't try and destroy my relationship? Try to put a wedge between me and Leah, so you can have me all to yourself?" he starts to pace around, his eyes still scanning you, nothing but coldness in them.

"I wouldn't," you whisper. "You happiness is important to me."

"I cannot be sure about that now, can I?" he huffs. "So what, you're okay with just being friends with me?" he look you dead in the eyes and you could've sworn your heart stopped beating for a few seconds.

No. I want more. You wanted to say, to scream, but you knew that it wasn't the answer he was looking for.

"I'm okay with being just friends with you," you say, looking down at the ground, your words lack conviction.

"You're lying," he calls you out.

"I am," you admit pretty quickly, knowing he could read you like a book.

He looks at you for awhile, before rubbing his face with his whole hand. You could see he was trying to process the information as best as he could, and you were afraid that you just made the biggest mistake of your life. That you were about to lose a friend, someone who has been there for you forever now, just because your stupid feelings.

You bite your lip, trying hard to keep your emotions in check, your eyes still stinging at the back. Daryl was pacing around again, not looking at you anymore. His face serious, more serious than you ever saw him be. He suddenly stops.

"I would never see you as something more than a friend," you hear him say and your whole body shivers with how cold and mean it sounded.

You look up to him. He's now standing in front of you, with his crossbow swung across his body, his hands crossed on his chest. His blue eyes - oh, those perfect blue eyes - are looking at you but there is nothing behind them. His jaw seems to be clenching hard, like he's trying not to yell and scream. You wouldn't blame him if he did, but you were glad that he wasn't. Because it would, for sure, make you curl into a ball and cry.

You swallow hard and nod to him, acknowledging the words he just said.

I would never see you as something more than a friend.

You knew it. You knew you'd never be his. Deep down you were aware of it, but your stupid aching heart thought that maybe, just maybe, he'd change his mind one day and he'd see you as more than a friend... It was a delusion, promptly followed by empty hope.

"I know," you manage to whisper to him, your eyes digging a hole in the ground before you. You were too embarrassed to look at him, now that he knows and he will always know. He will always have your words at the back of his head and, most likely, he'll never treat you the same way.

Your whole scavenging trip goes in an excruciating silence. You go through the buildings and you scavenge the most of it, before going back to Alexandria. There is no goodbye from Daryl when you step inside the gates. There is no "see ya later" or anything else that would indicate that your friendship is okay. Of course, your friendship wasn't okay. You just told him you loved him, and he said he'd never see you as more than a friend...

You watched him head to his house, greet Leah and pull her inside the house, closing the doors behind him. You think about what they were doing, but you quickly shake your head to get rid of these thoughts. Your eyes finally fill with tears as you head down the street, your head down, your hands in your pockets. You let it all out, stepping inside your house, sliding down the doors onto the floor and curling into a ball. It felt like you just lost a piece of yourself. Piece that was important, maybe too important.

Days go by, and Daryl stays away from you, you both slowly drift away from each other. It was clear he wasn't comfortable with being friends with someone who loved them more than that. It was clear that your friendship was ruined, and that it was your fault. When you passed by each other, there was no words exchanged. It was like two complete strangers, just living in the same community.

You remember how he made you smile, and laugh. You you'd always tease each other and banter. How you always find ways to annoy people around you. You remember how everything that you liked about your life, it was somehow connected to him. How hearing his name made you smile every single time because you knew that day spent with Daryl was going to be full of adventure and mischief which you loved.

But one day, hearing his name didn't make you smile anymore...

#daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon sad story #daryl dixon friendship #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl x reader

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ink-stainedkiss · 3 days ago

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You’re Nothing Special (AKA: Perfect)

- Kusuo Saiki

Synopsis: Today, Saiki is faced with the biggest challenge; going to your home. The pyschic isn’t sure what to expect, but in the end, he figures out more than he believed he would.

Guys I’m am so sorry for taking so long on the Pt.2. I fear I grew a writers block when writing Saiki, but also because I had no clue where to begin with the Reader being so boring (LMAO) so that’s why she has an average life, but she’s not a complete robot. Also, can you guys catch which Laufey song I was inspired by while writing this?

“Regular speaking.”

Regular thinking.

‘Saiki Speaking.’

Saiki Thinking

Warnings:None

Word Count: 1.6k

Pt.1 ᯓ★ Pt.2

Today was the day. Saiki was going to come over to your home to work on the project. He was more nervous than he would like to admit. He just didn’t want to mess up. It was too late to back down because he was walking through the icy winds, about a minute away from the address you had sent him. His mind raced with dooming thoughts. What if her parents barrage me with personal questions? I hope it’s not awkward. He shurred not at the cold weather, but the feeling of unpleasantness.

Before he knew it, the psychic was standing in front of your home. There was only one word to describe it. Average. Just the way Saiki liked it.

You opened the door, a blinding smile on your face as recognizable pink hair came into your view,”Saiki!” You said cheerfully,”I was wondering when you were going to show up.” Saiki softly smiled at your happiness, ‘I’m sorry, I forgot my coat at home and had to turn back.’ That’s a lie. He spent most of his time contemplating if he should go or text you and say he felt under the weather. You frowned at him, glancing past and noticing the flurry coating the sky,”Well come in, I don’t want you to freeze.”

That would likely never happen, but it was sweet you cared. He walked into your home, noticing the cleanliness of the place. There wasn’t a lot of decorations and it was easy to see you and your parents had just moved here. Even if, the psychic saw trinkets that showed off the love growing from this home. A tiny picture frame that held your child-like smile or a hung painting of your baby handprint that was worn down. Saiki took off his coat, placing it on the coat rack next to him, ‘You have a very cozy home.’

You gave him bewildered eyes,”Seriously? I think it looks pretty boring.” ‘Is that a bad thing?’ Your face showed how in thought you were about his question, and soon enough you smiled,” I’ve never thought about it that way,” Looking around, you started to see what Saiki was talking about,”I guess it isn’t.”

“Honey? Who’s at the door?” Oh no. You turn your head toward your mother, who had walked out of the kitchen,”Just my work partner,” Saiki freezes up as your mom’s gaze lands on him,”Oh! Is this Saiki?” Did you mention me before? The blush rising to your cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by the psychic,”Yes, mom.”

A delighted look fell onto your mothers face as she stuck out a hand for him to shake,”It’s nice to meet you Saiki.” He nodded softly, shaking her hand, ‘It’s nice to meet you too. Thank you for inviting me over.’ Your mother glanced at you with an impressed look,”You should bring him over more often, Dear.” Your face flushes and you whip your head around to hide it,”Mom, please quit.” You give a desperate look towards Saiki and he quickly picks it up,”We are going to head up to my room.”

Your mother has a cheeky smirk on her face, one that makes you glare at her. Eventually, she drops her teasing and lets the two of you leave. You were finally alone and it looked like you had started on the project before Saiki even got to your home. You chuckled slightly at the sigh of your floor being covered in working tools. Notebooks, pencils and pens, sticky notes, and your laptop open,”Sorry, I just wanted to work ahead.” He shook his head, ‘I don’t mind. I’m glad you care about the project.’ Saiki could have easily done the work on his own, but he respected the fact that you weren’t…well a Nendo.

Saiki watched as you dropped to the floor, getting comfortable on the wood tiles,”You can work on my bed if you want or my desk.” Saiki glanced at the options, but ultimately sat down in front of you, ‘The floors fine.’ There was a split second where you just stared at him, an indistinct expression on your face. His brows creased and completely forgot to use his powers, instead quickly asking you, ‘What?’

You shook your head in amusement,”You’re just something else Saiki.” Am I supposed to take offense to that? Seemingly reading his mind, you continued,”Not in a bad way, it’s just, most people at school they’re so loud and judgmental, but you’re not like them.” Saiki was very confused. Is it a good thing that he stuck out of the crowd? Maybe, if it meant you saw something good in him.

The day continued, the sun slowly sinking and making you turn on soft lights and candles. Somehow, you both moved to your bed and really the only thing running through your head was information that Saiki already knew. The teacher said five slides, so we can just split it evenly. I hope he’s not feeling uncomfortable. Should I speak up? But we are both working, I don’t want to-

‘Are you finding your own way around the school?’ Saiki wasn’t one to start a conversation, but you seemed to be overthinking, so he stepped in to help. There was a flash of surprise on your face, but it was gone in a blink of an eye, replaced by a light grin,”Mhm! I’m honestly shocked I haven’t gotten lost and the teachers are super nice.” He nodded along, ‘What about the other students?’

Saiki felt an odd sense in his chest as a downcast expression landed on your face, clearly it wasn’t good. To distract yourself, you typed away on your computer,trying to act unmoved by his question,”It’s fine. I think our classmates only like people who have an interesting story.” A faux laugh sounded from you,”It feels like if you're not making a scene, then nobody really cares.” The psychic's brow furrowed at your words. I wish people saw you the way I do.

Clearing your throat, you tried to air out the awkwardness you brought in and played it off,”That’s really my fault, maybe I should have lied and said I’m the child of a billionaire.” If you would have said something like that, then I wouldn’t have tried to be your friend. The work in front of you two was slowly being abandoned and now you were leaning on your wall, staring at the open space ahead,”I think I’m only feeling like this because I’m not different. I feel like the most boringest person.��

Saiki couldn’t believe what he was hearing. You made being average sound terrible, but to him that’s all he wanted. Biting the inside of his cheek, Saiki dared to press you further, ‘It might be you’re just new to school and people haven’t introduced themselves to you.’ You exhaled softly, sorrow detectable in your tone,”Yeah, but usually new kids are always being asked questions and being greeted by their classmates, but so far you're the only one who’s made an impact.” That’s sort of good to hear.

‘Would it help to hear, if I said I like the fact you aren’t different from the crowd?’ Your jaw dropped slightly. Did he really just say that? Did I really just say that? Saiki didn’t expect to hear you giggling, a genuine giggle,”Thank you, it does help.” You sighed, leaning your head back,”I’m glad I got to know you Kusuo.” Saiki had to ignore how his heart fluttered at the sound of his name on your lips.

For the rest of the night, you spoke on and on. Saiki was sure this was the longest conversation he’s ever held. You told more about your life and he saw a tiny spark ignite in your eyes. It was no shocker to say that you were beautiful, but Saiki thought that your personality shined ten times brighter. Soon enough, the talk died down and you had turned on a movie. The psychic believed he would finish the show then leave, but then something fell onto his shoulder. He whipped his head around, but his eyes softened when they landed on your sleeping face. Are you really that comfortable around me? Saiki closed your laptop carefully, hoping to not wake you, and sat there in silence.

Your breathing was calm, quiet, and soothing to Saiki’s ears. Unbeknownst to him, Saiki rested his head on top of yours, unsure if this was a dream. While you slept, Saiki started to stare. Hard. He didn’t want to sound like a pervert, but he believed you looked so beautiful right now. There was a sharp bolt of realization that hit the psychic. As he watched your sleepy state, he concluded that friendship wasn’t what he wanted with you. The feeling pounded against his racing heart. This had to be a joke. A trick? I’ve never felt like this. It was a lot for him to take in, but you managed to slip past the psychic's vision and found yourself creating a new space in his heart.

Along with this new feeling, Saiki also realized something else. The more you talked, the more he saw you weren’t a boring person. Sure, you weren’t attracting chaos and the center of attention, but you had a personality. And Saiki thought that was just as perfect. The psychic reached a hand out, a throw blanket placed on your chair rising from its spot and floating over. He let it fly up and slowly glided down, resting comfortably on the two of you. Instinctively, you scooted closer, wanting more warmth. Saiki looked over, a little smile creeping its way onto his features. While you were sleeping, Saiki fell in love.

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vandal-flower · 8 hours ago

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Saying Something Stupid, like I Love You

Poseidon x Amphitrite!Reader

Requested. @amphitriteswife

Plot: Poseidon faces a dilemma concerning his love life. Reluctantly accepting their help, he plans to make things right with (Name). Thankfully she is lonely on New Year's and needs all the company she can get.

Warnings: Poseidon is bad at feelings but it works out, angst but a happy end.

Notes: Happy new year. Here is my gift. 🐚

"You've been an awful mood lately.", Zeus teased, raking his beard as he chuckled.

His brother, Poseidon didn't dare to say anything, but instead glared at him. Not that it would do much anyways.

"Look I was right Hades! Doesn't he look like a pouting child!", at this point Poseidon nearly summoned his trident just to skewer his brother, not caring for the consequences at hand.

But before he could, Hades smacked Zeus's head, "Quit your teasing Zeus, but you do have a point. Brother what is going on with you, did something happen?", Hades glanced over at the ruler of the seas with a look of concern.

In all his years, not once did Hades ever see Poseidon be so...off. Sure he is arrogant, but he has the power to back it up. But now, he looks as if he is distressed. This whole week he has been.

From what he heard, he has been ignoring meetings with his fellow godlike beings, causing unnecessary problems, ignoring his duties on Olympus, and at one point nearly flooded the whole of Olympus when asked about it.

Since that incident, no one has been able to tell him to stop, out of fear of being killed.

"It's nothing you should concern yourself. I'm perfectly fine."

If there was anything that Hades knew better than anyone else, it was that Poseidon was a terrible liar.

Zeus sneaked behind Poseidon's chair, "Let me take a guess."

"You need my help but you don't want to admit it."

"I would never require the assistance of someone like you."

"You accidentally broke your trident and now you're throwing a fit."

"Should I smite you with said 'broken trident' Zeus?"

"Is it concerning Amphitrite?", Hades asked, breaking the dispute between his younger brothers.

Poseidon was silent. Bingo.

Zeus's laugh filled the room as Hades chuckled at the sudden realization. Poseidon has been having love problems. Should news of Poseidon's love life ever go out, the Heavens would fall apart. Maidens and potential suitors would have their dreams shattered.

Realizing he could not get out of this mess, Poseidon, reluctantly, have a brief summary of his situation.

Amphitrite or (Name), has been distancing herself from him as of late. Everytime he approached her, she would throw some reason to excuse herself. No longer could he see her glowing dark skin under the sun, or the moonlight. Stare into her eyes that put the beauty of various beings to shame. He could no longer be held by her, or even listen to her enchanting voice.

In short, he could no longer be with her.

"I never thought you would be a lovesick fool Poseidon. Never thought they day would come.", Zeus joked earning another glare from Poseidon.

"It makes sense, you have been a temper tantrum. I should've stopped your habit if I knew it was going to be this bad.", Hades said, a smile growing on his face as he too teased the King of the Seas.

Poseidon hated the reaction he received from his brothers. They were making fun of him, and had it not been for the fact that they're his most trusted pupils, he would of ended their lives swiftly long time ago.

Soon, Hades collected himself, and Zeus followed suit. "So do you want our help or not, lover boy Poseidon?", Zeus nudged Poseidon, further agitating him.

With no other option, Poseidon answered a begrudgingly "yes".

The aftermath of Christmas lingers as festive lights and decorations all around the Heavens. With the new year, brought new beginnings and although it was meant to bring joy, it had only brought more sadness to (Name).

Seeing all the couples walking around with each other in arms, or buying more fireworks to celebrate the new years at their parties. Not to mention, a sculpture of Zeus dressed up in a tuxedo with Hera beside him with a glamorous dress to showcase her beauty. How great...

As much as she wished to climb into the arms of her friends to get rid of her feelings, she couldn't. With the following reasons...

Her nymph friends were trying to get a chance to be with gods like Apollo.

Persephone was visiting Hades in the Underworld or her mother on the Overworld.

Other friends of hers were visiting family or too busy.

Nonetheless, she was alone. She sighed to herself, the cold wind gently blowing against her face."For a bright and lively season like this, you don't like you're having much fun."

(Name) perplexed at the sudden voice, turned around to see Hermes. "Happy New Year to you Hermes. Any deliveries you should be attending to?", she looked at him with suspicion. Hermes smiled wider than usual.

"No reason.", he spoke. "However if I were you, I would go to the beach to calm all my worries." He pointed towards the beach, his smile not faltering not once. (Name) frowned at his words.

Sure, the beach would be great. Sand under her feet, and a chance to relax in the cool waters. However it reminded her of Poseidon.

Something told her that he doesn't like her presence as he hardly ever responded to what she says, only answering with a nod or a hum. And with his cold attitude, it only made sense he didn't think much of her or at all. The guilt of wasting his and her time ate her inside.

So to avoid making the situation worse, she distanced herself. Sure it hurts, but it's the thought that counts.

"Any reason for you to say that? In fact, why don't you mind your business, go run errands somewhere. I'm busy.", she waved off his suggestion and continued walking.

"Oh, but you have to. Poseidon ordered for your presence. And if word got out that you rejected the Poseidon himself, what would the Heavens make of you?"

Damn. He made a good point.

With no other choice, (Name) changed course and walked towards the beach. Not without cursing Hermes.

"So...you wanted my presence, Lord Poseidon?", (Name) asked. Before her was a dinner table and multiple decorations: seashells, corals, and lights. Donned in a fine suit with a small flower in the chest pocket, was the King of the Seas with his signature cold gaze. In his hands held a bouquet.

"I would like to take you to dinner.", he answered as she still tried to process the situation. This was all too much! The dinner table, decorations, and the flowers?

It would have been anyone's dream to experience was the scene right in front of her eyes, but not her. She avoided Poseidon like the plague only for him to ask for her and present her with dinner? Romantic as it is, it seemed suspicious...

"But, why? You clearly don't like my presence, so why the sudden change, AND why did you feel the need to plan a romantic dinner?!"

His eyes glanced at a rock that hid both Hades and Zeus, the duo gave him a thumbs up. He glared at them before turning his attention back to (Name). "I wanted to make you feel special, and...to apologize for my behaviour towards you."

If there was one thing the King of the Seas was not good at doing was apologies, however it was always genuine whenever he was backed into a corner to apologize.

"Apologize?"

"Yes."

Internally, (Name) clutched her pearls. Poseidon the King of the Seas, most feared Olympian, apologizing?! "It must be a dream", she thought.

Poseidon took a deep breath, silently cursing his brothers, " (Name), for the past weeks that I was away from your presence, I had the opportunity to contemplate my actions towards you."

"Every time you make some pathetic excuse to avoid me, it...breaks my heart to see you go. Your presence makes living more tolerable, since I'm surrounded by a circus.", Zeus gasped is shock at his comment, had it not been for Hades stopping him, he would have ruined the moment.

"You are more enchanting than the stars themselves, your voice eases my heart, and even if I were to give you a thousand compliments today and ten thousand tomorrow, it would still not be enough to describe how I truly feel about you."

Despite the cold look on his face, his cheeks and ears were dusted with pink. His eyes held a hidden warmth only meant for her. He walked towards (Name), holding the bouquet of forget-me-nots to her. It looked like he wanted to propose to her.

"But why, do this all for me, why do you want me?", (Name) asked, tears about to spill from her eyes. Poseidon sighed, "Because I love you."

Zeus and Hades popped their heads from behind the rock, eyes wide open. To hear their Poseidon actually say he loves someone was a miracle of itself.

Time had stood still for a moment between (Name) and Poseidon. Without realizing, tears had already started streaming down her face. Closing the distance from the two, Poseidon wiped her tears away with his thumbs. (Name) pressed her forehead against his, her eyes looking into his own.

"I appreciate the view, allowing me to see your eyes closely once more.", he whispered causing a smile to form on her face. She wrapped her arms around his waist, before giving him a kiss on the lips. As she pulled away, she rested her hands on his cheeks.

"Come back to my palace, there's a new collection of pearls and other accessories that I believe would suit you."

"I would love to, my dearest."

The two entered the ocean together, Poseidon in the arms of (Name), and (Name) telling him of her latest adventures. Once the two were gone, Zeus and Hades left their hiding spot.

"Well that turned out better than I anticipated.", the King of the Heavens smiled. "But what to do about the dinner setup?", Hades questioned.

The two stopped and thought about, "I'll just use it as an apology to Hera, after we had our argument the other day.", Zeus said.

"You are really shameless."

Happy new years!!

Sorry if Poseidon is ooc, but we deserve a soft Poseidon at least once in a while...

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #snv poseidon #ror poseidon #snv poseidon x reader #ror poseidon x reader #vandal-flower

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mearcatsreturns · 2 years ago

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“authors behaving badly”...are they behaving badly, or are they just writing a story that you don’t like or that doesn’t resonate with you in particular? are they not engaging in a way you like?

#I should not watch most book review videos #even when I don't like an author's writing it or can see big issues with it #so many current reviewers do this thing where they complain about books #and it's inevitably books that a lot of people are complaining about....for things they'd let slide by another author #this one is about SJM #and why on god's green earth can I find 1000 videos complaining about SJM #when I can barely find anything for B Sanderson when his books have MORE of the stuff they complain about with SJM #(3 guesses as to why sigh)#fam I am not saying she can do no wrong (do NOT put people on pedestals)#but it's clear that with people determined to take umbrage there is nothing she could do to put things right #circa 2016/2017: ''ugh we do not want to hear so much from Privileged Authors like her''#now: ''um she doesn't use social media much and doesn't engage with the public''#back then: ''why no queer characters?'' *author starts trying more to add queer rep*#now: ''not like that!!!''#like just admit there's nothing she could do to make you happy #I don't care about SJM in particular but she's a great example of this trend #the lack of good-faith engagement and unwillingness to recognize that even if something is NOT for you #it might be for someone else

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orcelito · 6 months ago

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ok i am actually so very angry and there's literally nothing i can do to fix it. life keeps going on. she might even be happy. and fuck dude, i'll make sure im happy too, i was a fully developed person before she was in my life and i'll continue to be one without her. but God Damn, the fact that she can just do something so blatantly awful and unfair to me and then run off without any actual repercussions is just so fucking rankling to me.

like perhaps she feels guilty. she said she did when it was all going down. but it was just something she "needed to do". so obviously she didn't feel guilty enough or she wouldnt have done it like that lmaoooo

i really did deserve to have a good solid yell at her. but unfortunately, by the time i did see her in person i just wanted her out of my fucking life. so. no yelling was done, unfortunately.

#speculation nation #the duality of being a deeply resentful and angry person. and being a person that Tries to be mature and peaceful.#like im not gonna actually Do shit even tho i keep wanting to message her just to yell at her some more again #it's like there's a beast in me that keeps yelling for retribution. she wronged me in such a disrespectful and humiliating way #and yet she just gets to walk away like it was nothing? live her life like it was nothing?#be in 'love' with her new 'soulmate' after cutting me off like a rotten limb?#i feel so DEEPLY angry. i want to spit vitriol and fire. i want to dig my claws into her bones. make her really FEEL how i feel.#i want to wander into her dreams and make her experience what i felt. every miserable second of silence.#the humiliation of admitting you might be falling in love only to be told you were never loved at all.#and i want to knee her in the gut and spit in her face and really make her regret ever fucking wronging me #but unfortunately im a stupid fucking pacifist so all the aggression and anger and violence has no FUCKING outlet #ive been. trying to not think about it too much. ive been trying to just live my life. because i dont want her to run my life.#but the anger keeps catching up to me. filtering in when i dont expect it. endless constant fucking thoughts coming back to me #on and on and on and on i live and i eat and i read and i game and i hate and i hate and i hate and i hate and i hate and i HATE AND I HATE #the greatest injustice is that i cannot make her truly feel every single ounce of my resentment and anger #it's so overwhelming i think i could choke on it. and she gets to live her FUCKING happy little life with her stupid fucking 'soulmate'#i hope it collapses around her and she loses her too so she's single and alone and miserable and regretting all of her fucking impulsivenes #she deserves to have it fail after what she did to me. and all i can really do is hope that karma has its fucking kiss for her.#if only curses were real. what i wouldnt give to put some energy into that karmic payback lmfao.#ok . ok ok ok ok love and peace on planet earth. i am shifting out of vitriolic little shit mode.#just had to let some of the steam out. im still angry but i am going to go back to not thinking about it.#i think i should go on a nice long bike ride tomorrow. to decompress and work some of the steam out.#it's something that she can never take from me. something that is so wholly mine. fuck that stupid bitch and fuck her new girlfriend too #...............................ok NOW im shifting out of vitriolic mode. lol #negative/#WAHOOOOOO i am certainly not taking this breakup well. but i dont think anyone would be lmfao.#all things considered i think im doing a pretty great job at handling this breakup.#bc at least im only recounting unrealistic threats and fantasies on my tumblr dot com instead of messaging Any of this to her.#i may kinda want her to read it so that she knows anyways. but i wont message her directly. bc i am Trying to be at least a little mature.#complaining on my tumblr dot com so i dont message my ex with more vitriol. gotta cope Somehow.

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nicoliine · 11 months ago

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The day you noticed Lucifer was using his wings to court you.

☆彡 In birds, there is a great variety of nuptial displays at the time of courtship, especially in species that have melodious songs or show very striking plumage.

Little did you know, this would include angels or the king of hell himself.

☆ English isn't my first language. Sorry in advance.

☆ The reader is g/n; no pronouns or y/n are used.

You were always fond of birds, and you dedicated much of your life to helping preserve endangered species. You studied them, spent countless hours learning about the hundreds of species, a lot of diets and their behaviors.

This didn’t seem to stop once you found yourself in Hell; in fact, once you discovered there were a bunch of sinners with bird-like features, you just seemed content to be there.

When you arrived at the Hazbin hotel, you claimed one of the spare rooms as your personal studio, and after what you have called "the toughest battle in your life," you convinced Alastor to let you have a camera "as long as you never get that frivolous technology box near me."

Husk had to ask you not so politely to stop when you first met. Before you could even take his hand, you had started to ask questions about their wings; sometimes you even wrote on an oh-so-worn notebook of yours; it became a common topic of discussion between the two of you. When you forget he has work to do and start to take multiple pictures of his wings and even try to take one of his wings when he is not looking, Angel starts to think that your bartender friend is about to lose it, and you will end with a scratch or two.

Besides that, one could say that your presence in the hotel was appreciated; you could be found watching some funny shows on TV with Angel and never saying no to Vaggie when she asked for a favor. Soon, you started to feel part of the hotel, and the rest of the staff agreed with that.

☆◦ •◦☆

Lucifer was nothing like any man you had met in life or hell; he was, to put it simply, an awkward guy, always so silly yet so elegant. He had managed to get you longing for his presence more often than you would like to admit.

You are not sure how you and Lucifer became friends, but having a shared interest in ducks seemed to help. You gave him all kinds of facts about them, and he would step by your room every so often to show you the new rubber duck he was working on. Not that you're complaining, but one of his ducks set your courtains on fire on an occasion.

Charlie says that she is proud of his "social advances,” as she used to call your interactions. Seeing him out of his office more often and having an actual conversation with someone seems to make the princess happy and less worried about her father, and if that someone turns out to be you, it is so much better!

☆◦ •◦☆

The first time you noticed this weird behavior of his was the day you two met. You couldn’t help but mention, after his bickering with Alastor over who was Charlie’s father figure, that you found his wings precious. Lucifer, being the prideful man he is, wasted no time on extending his wings only for your delight, a smirk on his face as he saw your eyes wide admiring that part of him; they were so magnificent, you could swear they were shining in the light of the room, and you'd die to see if the feathers were as soft as they seemed.

Just a simple touch, please.

Before returning his wings to their place, there was a flutter of his wings, so slow that there was no way someone could notice.

But you weren't just someone; you knew it. What a coincidence! You could recap an article about some birds courtship.

The second time you saw it, you were in your room minding your own business. He came to you with a smile, but your eyes were looking past him, his wings on full display as he greeted you. There, his wings started flutter again, now lasting more than the last time. Now there is no way it was just a coincidence. “My eyes are up here, darling,” he said, that smirk on his face turning into a pout as you were not paying him enough attention. You just shake your head, focus on the man before you, returning your full attention to him, and the pout on his lips dissapears immediately as your eyes are on him.

☆◦ •◦☆

You are getting crazy; every time you get a glimpse of him, you find his wings moving in an oh-so-familiar way that you could swear it was a courtship dance, every time bolder than before.

That is when you decided to confront him, getting just a chuckle from him. It made you think maybe it was just your imagination, and you finally lost your mind.

While sitting on the hotel balcony, Lucifer was telling you one of his ideas for this new rubber duck. He said it would be the best one he would work on so far, even though you doubted that. Then you stopped listening, your eyes fixated on his wings. Every time he looked at you, they would flutter not so subtly, distracting you from everything around you. Your head rested on your palm, almost feeling bad for not listening to his rambling.

"Luci, you're courting me." It was supposed to be a question, but by the way the king of hell stopped his rambling and, looking at you with wide eyes, you found that maybe it was not.

"And what would make you think that?" He said mocking you, he also rested his head in one of their hands.

"Your wings, the way you move them," you pointed to his wings; they stopped his movements when you mentioned it; he just chuckled, then started to laugh. Was he laughing at you? It made you want to hide yourself from him; was it your imagination? No way.

"So you finally notice," he then said. Once his laugh was gone, he adjusted himself on his seat. Now, with both of his hands holding his face and looking at you with a smirk, his wings started to flutter once more. "I thought it would take you less time, may I be honest"

"Actually, I noticed it long ago; I thought it was just my—" You felt the air leaving your lungs once he got on his feet and moved closer to you. "...Just my imagination." You were not strange to his proximity, but this time he just looked so imponent, wings on full display and fluttering around. Now it was definitely a courtship dance, and you were on the receiving end.

"Now, what do you think?" He hovered over you who still sitting, a hand resting on the back of your seat, taking one of your hands on his and kissing your knuckles. The kiss lasted longer than you thought was the average time for one, and even then he didn’t let go of your hand. "Was my dance enough to impress you, darling?" Now, looking into his eyes, you could only see adoration, awaiting your response.

You couldn't speak; you can't imagine the king of hell pulling up something like this for you.

"My dear, please talk to me," he pleaded, a sigh leaving his lips as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. You could feel his warm breath in your skin, burning like hellfire.

"It was," you said, Lucifer now turning his face to look at you. You took his face in your hands and moved him closer, he gave you an inquisitive look but with no intention to move from your touch. "I should have mentioned it earlier; it was quite impressive." You smiled, and he did the same.

Now, how long you two kissed, you also don't remember; what you remember, however, is how he held you against him as if you were just about to disappear right then, and that when you finally got to touch his wings, you were proved wrong.

His feathers were much softer than you have imagined.

This idea came to me yesterday when my dad showed me a reel of a lady bird who epically ignored the male who was dancing to her, I felt so bad and immediately thought about Lucifer.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated 💞

#hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #Why did this took me so long?#nicolines

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iggyywrites · 4 months ago

Text

Keep Up!

Pairings: Wolverine/Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Summary: Logan knew moving in with Wade was going to be a bad idea….his next door neighbor doesn’t help with that either

Warnings: 18+ fic, fem!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, age gap (reader is in her 20s), mentions of alcohol, male masturbation, Logan listens to reader getting fucked, daddy kink, Logan fingers reader, p in v penetration, creampie, making out, nipple play.

An: No one make fun of me for not being able to do Wade’s witty remarks justice, I am just a girl.

Logan knew this wasn’t a good idea.

There was virtually no timeline that existed currently where living with Wade fucking Wilson was a good idea for Logan. He could barely handle speaking to him for thirty minutes, let alone sharing a living space with him.

However, behind the man’s rapid fire tongue that had a copious amount of shit talking to go with it, he was genuine, and as much as Logan hated to admit it…

He didn’t really have anyone in this timeline but Wade.

So, after quite a bit of groaning and grumbling under his own breath, he finally agreed to moving in with Wade, which didn’t take long at all, seeing as he came to this timeline against his will with nothing but his bright yellow hero suit on his body.

To Logan’s surprise, things weren’t terrible his first week there. Wade was annoying, that much was true and inevitable, however he had his own shit to do, which had him out of Logan’s hair most of the time, leaving him all on his own in the tiny two bedroom apartment.

Logan was starting to realize that maybe all of this wasn’t as bad as he cut it out to be. Things started to feel particularly good on the Friday night following the end of his first week there. Wade was nowhere to be found, he had the living room to himself and a nice bottle of whiskey to grant him the sweetest dreams (or lack there of) meaning he could simply enjoy his own company in the comfort of silence that was rare living with Wade. He sighed softly as he sat back, legs spread wide as he took a sip of his drink, sinking down into the couch in a pool of pure bliss-

A knock at the door ripped him away from all of that almost immediately.

He groaned softly, lifting his head as he turned to look at the door, brows furrowed for a moment as he silently threatened whoever it was behind it to knock it again. When they did, he turned his head in the opposite direction to face the clock on the wall, noticing that it was already going into the later hours of the night.

No one should be knocking their door this late.

By the third round of knocks to the door, Logan was fixing his posture, annoyance coursing through his veins at the disruption of his night. Whoever it was that was choosing to knock this many times on their door was in for it at this point.

However, Wade was beating him to it. The man swiftly slipped past Logan, pushing the older man back down into the couch, forcing Logan to fall back with a low groan, the gesture not helping with his growing annoyance.

“She’s here! She’s here!” Wade squealed out like an excited child, skipping and clapping his hands together as he made his way to the door.

“Who the fuck is that-“ Logan’s words were cut off but Wade practically hissing at the man as he whipped his head around to face him.

“Keep your fucking voice down! This is one of the only things I look forward to and I will not let Arthur Morgan ruin this for me. So shut your mouth, and drink your go-go juice, alright angel?” Wade seethed out as he gestured towards Logan’s bottle of whiskey before he turned around, tucking a strand of invisible hair behind his ear before he sighed softly, reaching forward and opening the door.

That’s when you walk in.

Behind the door is you. You’re pretty, young, bright smile plastered on your face, cheeks beaming with happiness as you bounce on your heels, snacks and drinks practically spilling from your arms as you struggle to hold them. Logan doesn’t stop himself from craning his neck forward to get a look at you, watching as you stare up at Wade like he’s your favorite person in the entire world.

Both you and Wade squeal in a way that sounds way too similar, and if Logan wasn’t so fucking confused right now he’d most definitely comment on it.

“There she is! Come to Daddy my little buttercup!” Wade groans as he lifts you up into his arms. A noise that’s a cross between a groan and a giggle leaves your lips as he squishes you to his chest, your eyes fluttering shut as you let him squeeze you tight.

“Wade! You’re…crushing me..” you wheeze out, all while having a bright smile on your face.

“Crushing ensues when you don’t visit me for two weeks. I was planning on shimmying my tight little ass down the air ducts to land straight into your bedroom so we can finish these last two episodes” Wade hummed our matter of factly, casually keeping you pressed against his chest as he kicked the door shut and carried you into the house before setting you down.

Logan’s watching the entire thing play out from the couch, eyebrows raised as he watches someone finally match the man’s hyperactive energy levels.

“I had a cold! I didn’t want to get you sick” you giggle out softly as you turn to face him as you walk into the apartment, still completely oblivious to the other man sitting on the couch.

“Princess have you taken a look at this mug? Influenza sees me and it runs” he grins at you whilst pointing at his face, which only earns a gentle nudge to his side with your elbow.

You finally turn towards the man on the couch, a look of surprise on your face as you take in his face, his form. It doesn’t take very long for you to come to the realization that whoever it is that’s been sitting here this entire time, is one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen.

You never thought in your entire life that you’d see the Wolverine in person.

“Oh! How rude of me…I didn’t know you were busy Wade” Your voice is soft as you apologize, eyes wide and worried that you’d interrupted something you had no business stepping into. Logan can already see the way your sneaker clad feet are turning to leave, giving both him and Wade an apologetic smile.

“Oh no you don’t. You aren’t using that sweet little understanding bit with me. If Wolvie wants to join in on our weekly Vanderpump Rules watch party, then he can. If he doesn’t, then the honey badger can kick rocks” Wade bends down a bit, giving you an assuring nod as he places his hand on the small of your back.

Logan rolls his eyes as he throws back the rest of his whiskey. “I’m way ahead of you asshole” Logan grumbles out, annoyed with many things already.

“Hold on there beautiful, don’t be rude. Everything that is good and pure in the world is standing in the middle of our apartment and you aren’t going to introduce yourself?” Wade scoffs out in disbelief, his words making you roll your eyes as you give him another nudge.

“Wade it’s fine, he doesn’t have to-“ you try, seeing just how little patience the man had from the few words he’d given you since you walked in.

“My name is Logan, I live here now” he nodded, his words short and brief.

You hate yourself because him acting this way is only making you want him more.

You inhale deeply before you give him a soft smile, the snacks you’d brought still clutched close to your chest, fingers pressing against the crinkly material of the various packages as you nod.

“It’s nice to meet you Logan. My names (y/n). I hope to see you around the building more often” you beam, your response a bit too bubbly and excited for someone who’d been hit with the driest, most bland introduction from a man probably ever.

Logan watches you closely for a bit, eyes taking in your bright expression, your excited eyes that are practically shining with stars in them. You’re young, and eager and Logan knows exactly what kind of girl you are just by the way you’re smiling at him. He’d run into a million different versions of you at bars and clubs, out on the streets when he was on missions, anywhere that he was able to be perceived, he ran into someone like you.

That in and of itself lets Logan know that he needs to stay far away from you.

He gives you a nod before pushes himself off of the couch, lazily grabbing the bottle of whiskey as he begins walking out of the living room towards his bedroom.

He can already hear your feet stepping forward on the wooden floor, so he braces himself for what he knows what’s coming next.

“You’re more than welcome to stay! I know it’s corny but the show is actually very entertaining” you giggle out softly as you offer yours and Wade’s tradition to Logan as well.

“I’m good sweetheart” he mumbles out without even turning around, raising his hand up as he gives you a back handed wave, rounding the corner to his bedroom. “Was nice meeting you” he makes out before slamming his door shut, the noise making you flinch.

You frown softly as you turn to face Wade. “Was it something I said?” You whisper out, worried you might have offended the man

Wade rolls his eyes at his roommates reaction, turning towards you as he extends his hand out, his palm going nearly rigid as he gives you a stiff pat to the head. “We can’t all be as excited about life as you are, angel. Life sucked the fun out of that one before you probably learned how to drive” he sighed out before he pulled you over to the couch.

“Now! If I don’t have Lisa Vanderpump meddling in the love lives of her alcoholic lounge employees in the next five seconds I am going to blow this entire complex up. Let’s get to it sugar plum” he nodded to himself as he forces you down into the couch, grabbing his remote and getting right down to the festivities of that fine Friday night.

You however, had a particularly harder time than usual paying attention to the shitty reality tv show that you and Wade bonded over, and there was only one person to blame.

Logan.

Logan is shocked to be the only one awake the next morning.

His head is pounding from all the whiskey he drank, and he knew he’d be nursing quite the hangover from it all. What he didn’t know however, was that Wade would be slumped in his bed much longer from a night with you than he was.

He’s alone in the kitchen for maybe two hours when Wade finally emerges from his bedroom, a long drawn out groan following as he massages his temples, eyes screwed tight due to the bright sun spilling in.

“Jesus fucking Christ….can’t anyone afford some fucking curtains here? I feel like I’m staring into Satan’s asshole” He groans out, eyes finally opening to watch the mountain of a man standing over a bowl of cereal in the kitchen.

“Why hello there sunshine, did the whiskey bottle tug you out of bed early this morning? You’re almost never conscious while the sun is still up” Logan rolls his eyes at his roommates words, bringing the bowl to his lips and slurping up the rest of the milk before he put the empty bowl into the sink behind him, large hand going down to wrap around his coffee mug.

“Look who’s talkin’….you and your friend seemed to have just as much fun as I did” he sighs out, voice gravely and rough.

Wade smiles brightly as he nods, making his way into the kitchen as he lets out a happy sigh. “A (y/n) hangover would bring you to your knees grandpa….although I have the feeling you might not be too opposed to that with how your filthy eyes were eating her up….shes cute isn’t she? Single too. If Vanessa hadn’t swept me off my feet and stolen my heart I would have been ten toes deep into her by now” Wade rambles out as he searches the pantry for something to fill his stomach with.

Logan isn’t shocked to hear that you’re single, and in the best way possible of course. You were very very attractive, however the way that you looked at him let him know everything he needed to know about you.

“I don’t think I asked. She’s not my type” Logan sighs out softly before taking a sip of his coffee.

That wasn’t true at all, not entirely at least. Logan found you attractive from the moment he laid eyes on you. Only an idiot could look at you and try to convince themselves that you weren’t a beautiful girl. However, Logan knew what kind of girl you were. You were a young girl who probably had some sort of fantasy to fuck a ‘dilf’ (as Wade called them) and you’d bat your pretty lashes and pout your lips to get Logan to melt for you, but that was only the half of it. You only wanted to fuck him, to have someone experienced work on your body just to leave and venture out on your own once you were done with him.

Logan was old and miserable and hard to deal with, all things that he was very aware of. Being with him was not a fucking cake walk, and he knew that those twinkles in your eyes when you saw him were all driven by raging hormones that would dissipate once you realized how much of a piece of shit he was.

Logan was too old for this, and he was too old for you.

“Not your type? Of course she’s your type! She’s everyone’s type. That’s like saying Beyoncé isn’t your type and I will not allow you to disrespect the queen…the bee hive is fucking scaring” Wade practically whimpered out before he let out a groan.

“Is it the age gap? Because if it is, they sell pills for that sweetie. It’s a normal part of life that we all go through! There’s nothing to be ashamed of and I’m sure she would understand-“ Wade’s words are cut off by Logan lifting up his hand, the sharp sound of his claws shooting through his knuckles filling the air, making Wade yelp and flinch.

“Keep talking and I swear to god I will cut your dick off every single day so that you don’t even get the chance to use those pills” Logan practically growls out.

“Relax! Jesus Christ you are violent. I’m starting to rethink giving you my spare room asshole” Wade breaths out before he sighs, lifting his hands up in defense before he speaks again.

“Look…all I’m saying, is that a bit of a crush is starting to brew, and she’s a sweet girl! I know for a fact that baby making factory is filled with dust and fucking cobwebs, don’t you think it’s time to get those gears runnin’ again?” Wade rolls his arm like a train as he puts on his best southern accent, which only further annoys Logan.

“She doesn’t even know me. She’ll get over it” Logan nods confidently, ignoring every word that leaves Wade’s mouth as he finishes his coffee, putting it in the sink where he put his cereal bowl earlier.

Wade groans in annoyance. “I am being such a good wing man right now, hooking you up with her? Most people’s friends hook them up with Freddy fucking Krueger and they still end up getting married. I’m giving you a real life fairy from a fucking Barbie movie and you’re turning her down??” Wade practically pleads with the man as he watches him starting to leave the kitchen.

“Hook her up with someone else. I’ll be back later” Logan groans out, not at all wanting to continue this conversation with his roommate any longer.

“Yeah fuck you too grandpa. I hope you get hit by a fucking bus on your way out” Wade groans out as he shovels a spoonful of cereal into his mouth, the man clearly taking offense to Logan not wanting to get to know you better.

“We’ll see if she lets you off this easy…” Wade mumbled under his breath, a soft smirk on his face.

Wade knew you better than anyone, and he knew that you were a whole different ball field of sweetness that Logan was most definitely not ready to handle.

And sweet you were.

By the end of the week, Logan was honestly starting to forget about you and the small cyclone you’d set off in his head ever since he’d seen you that night. He was busy with things around the neighborhood and trying his best to get used to the new world that he was living in. His plate was full and he had no time to think about the silly girl that lived next door to him.

However you didn’t let him forget for much longer.

Because come Friday night, your knuckle is rapping against the door like clock work, interrupting Logan’s alone time in the same way you had the week prior. It’s a silent gesture that it is his cue to leave and give you and Wade the living room for the night.

Logan just about catches a glimpse of you when Wade opens the door, and he notices very quickly how different you look from last time.

Last time, you’d opted for a pretty casual look. Wade had mentioned that you worked at a bar in the city, so he could only assume you came straight from there. Your denim shorts were cute, fit your ass well and he was sure you got many tips from those alone, and your purple halter top went well with your skin tone, but it was nothing fancy or out of the ordinary, just simply a girl in some clothes.

Now? Now you were putting in some effort.

The linen white dress you wore fit you snug at your middle, pushing out your tits a bit, hugging you in all the right places before falling down and flowing out right above your knees. You even went as far as to wear a bit of makeup, your eyelids sparkling a bit, lips glossy.

You’d put in all that effort, just for him.

“Jesus Christ…” Logan mumbled under his breath in disbelief, hating that you’d gone this far for him.

“Are you kidding me! I get your sweaty work clothes and he gets this?? You know he takes the animal thing seriously right? Pees to mark his territory and everything. I am much more pleasant, I promise” Wade complains as he leads you into the apartment, eyes falling down to the small container of cookies in your arms.

“Are these….fuck off. I have been begging you for weeks, and suddenly Jacob from twilight moves in and you’re making them??” Wade gasps out, face slowly turning up to look over at Logan as you giggle softly.

“I made them when you first moved in so I wanted to do the same for Logan…I hope you have a sweet tooth?” You questioned carefully, giving Logan a shy smile as you outstretch your arms to hand the cookies to him.

Wade is watching Logan like he’s your fucking guard dog, ready to pounce on the man the second he even tries to say something mean to an angelic soul like you.

It makes Logan sigh softly, eyes drifting down to the cookies before looking back up at you. “My doctor said I’m not allowed” he lies before bringing his glass of whiskey to his lips, acting as the biggest contradiction as he finishes the remnants of it before he picks up the bottle and turns around to leave.

“Don’t make any noise. I’m going to bed” he mumbles out once more before he slams his bedroom door much like he did the first time you arrived.

Wade groaned as he brought his hands up to pinch the bridge of his nose, quickly reaching out and placing a hand on your soft, exposed shoulder.

“Thank god. I was getting worried I wouldn’t have all of these to myself. Come on, Tom Sandoval doesn’t wait for anybody” he nods his head towards the tv, urging you to sit with him and distract you from how utterly stupid that lie was that Logan spit at you without a second thought.

Wade sighs as he notices the soft pout on your face, your fingers nervously toying with the ends of your dress as you struggle to relax, your head probably overflowing with every reason why Logan would hate you. He reaches out, tugging you closer to rest your head against his shoulder.

“Hey, he’s just a tough one to crack. He’ll come around soon peanut, I promise” he assured you before he shoved his hand into the bowl of cookies, pressing one to your lips.

“Now, say ahh. You deserve to eat one after all the hard work you did, little Betty Crocker” he teases you, making you giggle softly as you shoo his hand away before taking the cookie to eat yourself, finally relaxing into the couch as you let out a gentle sigh.

Logan really hoped that it would stop there, but it doesn’t.

He knows you aren’t stupid, everyone on the entire planet knows that the Wolverine doesn’t go to the fucking doctor. He could drink battery acid if he wanted to and he’d be fine, so him using the excuse of his doctor telling him he couldn’t eat sugar to not eat your food was a crock of shit, but he did it for two reasons.

One, because he didn’t want to have to accept anything from you, it would only had fuel to a fire that Logan knew he couldn’t put out once burnt too brightly. Two, was to kill any glamorizations you had for being with someone of his age. He was an old man, despite being a fucking killing machine, he was an old man. All he wanted to do was drink, smoke, fight a bit when the time called for it, and sleep, and he really could not fit a little girlfriend into that schedule, nor could he rob you of what you wanted and deserved with someone your own age instead of him.

Logan was starting to come to the conclusion that you probably weren’t as smart as he thought you were.

Because unfortunately, you don’t stop there.

For about an entire month, the weeks are filled with you constantly knocking on the door. It slowly goes from you bringing treats on your Friday nights with Logan, to you popping up on various days thought out the week instead.

Logan quickly learns that your love language is food, and you show that by constantly trying to feed him.

First it was the cookies, then you were knocking on his door way too early in the morning, beaming with a bright smile as you shoved a container of breakfast sandwiches into his naked chest.

“These are for you! I made enough for both you and Wade” you smile brightly, plump bottom lip tugged beneath your teeth as you give him a wave before he can deny the food or give it back.

After that, you were dropping off lunch for him. He wasn’t entirely sure how you were doing it, but you managed to always knock whenever Wade wasn’t around, most likely because the two of you were so close you had Wade’s schedule practically memorized, which meant that you were forcing Logan to interact with you whether he liked it or not.

“I’m off to work and I made too much! I hope you like spaghetti” you giggle softly before giving him another one of your signature waves, skipping off down the hallway to leave for work, once again leaving Logan dumbfounded as he stares down at the Tupperware of warm food in his hands.

It was getting to the point where you were practically keeping both him and Wade fed almost completely, rarely failing to share the food you’d made for yourself with them, and always sprinkling in some of your freshly baked pastries and desserts throughout all of that.

The worst part about it? Logan isn’t sure he’s ever had anything so tasty in his entire life.

You seriously knew what the hell you were doing behind a stove or at the oven, and it almost pissed Logan off to admit how much he appreciated the literal meal plan you’d set up for him.

As much as he likes it though, Logan could see exactly what accepting all of this was doing.

He saw it in the way that you’d linger longer and longer every time you dropped something off. What was once a shy little smile and a quick goodbye had now turned into you going into lengthy rants about work or the latest recipe you were stuck on, which Logan found himself always sticking around and listening to despite the fact that he rarely spoke.

That alone made your eyes twinkle, and he could hear how quickly it made your heart beat every time he leaned against the opposite side of the door from you, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he prepared himself for the words that would come out of your mouth on that day.

Logan gave an inch, and you took a mile, and that was the problem. Any attention he gave, he knew you’d take to the extreme, looking far too deep into the details of him being slightly less of an asshole that he usually was.

And on a night where Logan was laying in his bed, his mind replaying the countless times you’d stood at his door to give him food, using it all as an excuse to talk to him for a few minutes and get his attention on you, he knew it was time to cut you down from the root, and stop any dreams you had of the two of them ever amounting to anything more than next door neighbors.

He knew you’d be back eventually, it was only a matter of time until you were back with your latest meal for him. He found himself reciting what he’d say to you over and over again, cementing it into his brain as he pressed his palms against the island top one morning, eyes staring off into space as he mindlessly grabbed his coffee and took a sip.

knock knock knock!

The sound is familiar and it practically haunts Logan in his fucking dreams, the soft sound of your fists rapping against the door. He sighs softly because he knows you’re behind it, big bright smile on your face as you hold god knows what in your hands to gift to him.

“Morning Logan!” You beam, bright eyed and bushy tailed as you give him a small wave before you look down at the container before stretching your arms out to hand to him.

“You seemed interested last time I mentioned that breakfast quesadilla recipe I was working on…and I think I got it!” You’re so excited, and Logan lets out a soft sigh as he eyes you carefully before he pushes his hand gently against the container so that it’s back against your chest.

“I…look kid….I don’t…” his words trail off, feeling bad as you simply stare up at him with those big eyes and that happy smile, looking at him as if he’s the only person you want to see right now, waiting for him to say whatever it is he can’t do.

“You’ve gotta stop this” he tries to reason with you, his forearm pressed against the top of the door as he stares down at you.

You furrow your eyebrows as you watch him, shaking your head a bit as your voice goes low. “I….what?” Your voice trembles a bit, because you know what’s happening, you’ve been here before. You’ve gotten yourself into this same fucked up mess of liking someone so much that you couldn’t even see that they didn’t like you back, going on a power trip of showering them with so much affection that you didn’t even realize they’d been trying to stop you from the very beginning.

It was happening again.

Logan knows that he can’t let you down easy. You’re too sweet, too understanding, and he knows that if he isn’t blunt with you, giving you the harsh truth, that you’ll just feed into the nice things that he says rather than looking at the bigger picture.

So he sighs, looking over your head for a moment before he finally looks back down at you.

“You’re just…you’re not my kind of girl, alright? Someone like you, could never be with someone like me and that just is the way it is….so quit it with the food deliveries, alright?” He’s stern, speaking to you like a child who refuses to listen, voice growing louder and rougher as he towers over you.

“There’s nothing you can make for me or do for me that will make me want you” He adds salt to the wound with that one, wanting his words to get through to you loud and clear

Logan knows it’s already coming, those big eyes filling with tears that make your eyes shimmer like swimming pools, mouth opening and closing as you struggle to find the words to respond with before you give a slight nod, quickly looking away once the tears spill out into your cheeks, your hands coming up to wipe them away roughly.

“I…fuck…I’m sorry..” is all you say before you quickly rush away from the door, mortified as you open your own apartment door and slam it behind you, the sound making Logan groan softly before he closes his own door.

Of course you apologized. Here he was, crushing your dreams for his own sake and you fucking apologized. It only further cemented how wrong you and him were if he were to ever give you a chance, you were too good, too nice, and Logan could only hope that you found someone else who could give you what you wanted and what you deserved.

As for him? He wanted to focus on the relief he’d soon feel settle in now that he didn’t have to face you every other day anymore. He could only hope that you little stunts would come to a halt after all of this.

Logan doesn’t really have to hope for you to not come around, because he doesn’t see you for a long time after that.

At first he assumed it would just be a day or two until you were back for Wade, the two of you never going long without at least chatting in the hallway for a quick recap of your day or your week, however it’s the end of the week and neither Logan nor Wade have heard from you at all.

There are no knocks at the door, no more pastries or yummy meals with your name written all over them, it’s almost as if you don’t even live in the same complex anymore.

And when that Friday rolls around and you never show up either? Logan knows he’s fucked up.

Logan is thankful that Wade isn’t too freaked out over you being absent that week, seeing as he’d explain that this wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary for you. Although Logan knew what it was that pushed you away from the apartment, he was more than willing to let Wade believe work had drained you a bit more than usual that week, pulling you away from him.

By the third week though? Wade is pissed.

It’s Friday night, and he’s pacing the living room in front of Logan, his arms crossed as he shakes his head.

“I don’t get it! She’s only ever gone two weeks without coming by and that’s because she had a cold, and she told me! I haven’t heard from her in so long, I feel like I’m a fucking military wife waiting for her husband to write her back!” Wade whined out, desperate for an answer behind your disappearance.

Logan couldn’t even look at Wade, guilt eating away at him as his fingers wrapped around the ice beer bottle in his hand, simply letting the man walk around searching for answers when the reason behind his friends absence was sitting right in front of him.

“Fuck this. If she wants to stop being my friend she’s going to have to man the fuck up and tell me herself. Im going over there myself” he huffs out in annoyance, moving towards the front door.

Logan is on his feet before Wade can make it any further, stepping between him and the door as he shakes his head.

He knew that what happened needed to come from him, not you.

“Slow down…I…I know why she’s not coming around anymore” Logan makes out slowly, his words makes Wade raise his eyebrows.

“Anymore? What the fuck did you do, kill her or something??” Wade’s eyes are wide, and it makes Logan roll his eyes at the dramatics before he shoves him over towards the couch.

“Go sit down” he orders before he follows behind, singing softly as he sits next to Wade, avoiding his eyes as he speaks.

“She was coming around a lot and I…I didn’t want her getting the wrong idea so…I just…I told her she needed to stop” Logan shrugged nonchalantly as he gave a horrible retelling of what happened between the two of you.

Wade on the other hand, knew you very well, and he knew that you were probably the most understanding person on the entire fucking planet, so Logan had to probably say some fucked up shit to make you avoid them like the fucking plague, so bad that he probably made you-

“You fucking idiot. You made her cry, didn’t you” Wade visibly gets angry when he comes to this conclusion, making Logan snap his head in his direction quickly because how the fuck did he come to that conclusion so quickly?

“I…so you did talk to her?” Logan questions carefully, his words making Wade groan loudly as he stands up, pressing his face in his hands.

“You are….oh my god you are probably the dumbest person I have ever fucking met. Charles Xavier would be very ashamed of this behavior Logan!” Wade practically sobbed before he shook his head once again.

“You do realize she’s just a girl, right? She’s not some villainous asshole trying to do experiments on you or something. A simple ‘I’m not interested’ would have sufficed” Wade groans out in annoyance before he walks back towards the door.

“I am going to try and save one of the only friendships I have, and leave you here to think about how you are going to save ours, because after this stunt I am not sure I will ever let you touch me again” he huffs out softly before whipping his head away from him in disgust before he swings the door open, slams it shut and leaves to your apartment, leaving Logan there by himself.

Wade’s words echo in his head, making him realize that you really are just a girl, a girl who had an innocent crush that he brutally stepped on and smashed into a thousand little pieces when he could have easily told you he wasn’t interested in you.

Logan hated it, but he felt guilty.

He’s happy to hear that you and Wade were able to mend things together, the two of you opting to spend weekends in your home rather than his from now on, leaving Logan to the peace and quiet that he’d always wanted.

Although, it isn’t what he wanted, it isn’t what he wanted at all because he finds that he’s missing something. He’s missing the smell of your cookies or cinnamon rolls or whatever the fuck it is that you bring over, he’s missing the sound of yours and Wade’s laugh across the way as he tries to sleep, and he especially misses the little front door chats you and him would share whenever you stopped by for him.

Because over the course of the time that he’d lived there, he’d see you at least once every week, your bright smile filling his days and making him feel warm inside.

But now the last memory he had of you was you crying in front of him before running away.

Logan tries to drown out those annoying thoughts as he usually does, with alcohol. He comes home drunk on a Saturday night, stumbling in through the front door as he tugs off his leather jacket, kicks off his boots and stumbles into his bedroom to fall face first into his bed.

He’s able to forget about you for a bit, annoyed that your pretty face had been plaguing him for days on end. Right now he just wants to sleep and enjoy the warm floaty feeling that comes with a good cup of-

“Oh my god” Logan makes out the faint sound of your voice through the thin walls of the apartment.

He realized the first night he’d moved in that his bedroom was adjacent to yours when he was going to sleep and he could hear you shuffling about your bedroom.

Every night he’d hear little things, sometimes he’d hear the small sound of your music while you got ready, or he’d hear you giggling softly to someone as you spoke to them on the phone, he’d even heard a loud thud followed by an annoyed groan from you, which he could only assume was you stubbing your toe or running into something.

Logan had heard you a lot, and while most times he was too drunk or tired to ignore it, the sounds he was hearing now were….they were foreign for you. He’d never heard your voice pitched that way, high and whiny…he wondered if you were okay, were you crying?

“Fuck…fuck!”

There it was again.

It had Logan frowning as he turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling as he squinted a bit, straining to hear more of what was going on.

“That’s it baby…so good for me…” another voice groaned out, muffled and lower, too deep to have been your own. That, paired with a slow rhythmic thumping, and Logan wasn’t confused anymore.

You were getting fucked.

Logan tried very hard not to think about you this way, splayed out on a bed in front of him, eyes red and glossy as you beg for him to give you more, needy for any sort of attention that he'd give you. He knew that you were something he couldn't feed into...

Because he knew he'd like it too much.

Yet here you were, moaning so pretty for another fucking man with a bit of dry wall separating the two of you, and it was making Logan's head spin.

His chest swelled with different emotions, anger, annoyance, jealousy, envy.....

Lust

You sounded so fucking pretty, and as much as he hated that it was someone else making you feel that way, subjecting him to a fucking audio porno, he couldn't deny the tent that was growing in his jeans.

Logan groaned softly as he propped himself up, eyes low as he stared down at his throbbing cock through his jeans, begging to be touched, begging to take the place of the idiot that was in your bed making you moan like that.

Another loud moan rumbled through the walls, making Logan's eyes flutter shut and roll to the back of his head as he took in your noises.

He wondered how you'd sound for him, what you would say, if you would beg for him. God, you probably sounded so fucking good when you begged, so pretty, so fucking sweet for him. You were so eager for him, so eager to please, there was no doubt in Logan's mind that you would be the perfect girl for him.

You were practically begging him for it the weeks prior.

His hand made its way to his jeans, undoing his belt and popping them open before tugging his cock out, hissing softly as he laid back, head resting against the pillow as his fist wrapped around his length, slowly working on his sensitive skin as he let his mind travel to more thoughts of you as your moans sang him the symphony that matched perfectly with it.

His fist moved up and down over his length, spreading his precum as he thought about what you'd taste like, how you'd feel pressed against his tongue while he did just this. He imagined you'd taste perfect, the best pussy he's ever had if you'd ever let him.

Another string of moans makes its way into his bedroom, and it has him bucking his hands up into his fists, growing closer as he chases his orgasm to the sound of your voice.

Logan felt like a fucking pervert, stroking his cock while you were getting fucked by someone else right next door. That could have easily been him had he not fucked things up with you royally, he thought.

"Im gonna cum..." you mewl out, Logan can practically hear the pathetic little pout on your lips as you announce it, and he can't stop himself from groaning out softly as he bites back a moan in fears that you'll hear him too.

"Me too baby..." He growls out between gritted teeth.

He's fucking his hand at this point, the sounds of your moans and visions of you under him driving him closer to where he needed to go, he finally cums when he hears you moan loudly, knowing that was it. Thick ribbons of his pearly cum fly out of him, making the man sigh softly as he slowly rides out his orgasm with a few strong strokes from his hand.

Logan is old and gross and truly can't be bothered with the clean up, so he opts to grab a nearby t shirt and clean himself off before he tugs his jeans off, tosses them into the corner with the rest of his clothes and turns onto his side, pulling his pillow over his ears in fears of you and that jackass going another round while he sleeps.

He wants to sleep before embarrassment can take over, because he knows what he's done is beneath pathetic. He would much rather deal with it all in the morning.

Because despite how embarrassed he feels, he needs to orchestrate some sort of plan to speak to you.

Logan knew that getting you to talk to him was not going to be an easy feat. You ran from him any time you two ended up in the hallway together, and you made it a point to never be in the same place with him for two long.

So he had to be smart with this, and he needed a full proof way to get you to speak for him for more than a few seconds.

He figured trying to convince you as himself was a lost cause, there was no way you would even give him the time of day to ask for a bottle of water let alone talk to you about his feelings.

However, you would most definitely listen to him if he were Wade.

Now, Wade most definitely would not do this for Logan. There was no way in hell Wade would risk your feelings for that, he was way too protective over you for that. He was weary of Logan when it came to you now, and rarely brought you up unless Logan asked....

Which he did quite a bit now.

He was able to snag Wade's phone while he was taking a shower, getting ready for one of his little dates with Vanessa (they were going to meet up at a bar and then fuck the entire weekend).

Logan had limited time, because Wade was already on Rewrite the Stars off The Greatest Showman soundtrack, so he had to work fast.

He stood outside of the bathroom with the door cracked to swiftly put the phone back when he was done, the man groaning in annoyance as he clicked through Wade's endless screens of stupid games with clickbait-y ads that are designed to lure children in to find his messages.

When he finally finds them, he's quick to click the icon with a picture of you and Wade and the contact name angel baby.

Logan knew he had to put on his best Wade impression for this, so he inhales deeply before his fingers slowly tap across the screen.

me: Hey baby cakes! Wolvie's gone for the night, vanderpump at mine? Like old times?

angel baby: Hi! You sure? I don't mind doing it here!

me: I have wayyyy better drinks here. See you soon!

angel baby: fineee I'll be there after work

Logan lets out a breath he was holding for what felt like forever before he quickly slips Wade's phone back into the bathroom on the sink counter, closing the door slowly before rushing out of there to make himself seem as casual as possible.

Wade is out about twenty minutes later, a clear pep in his step. It makes Logan chuckle softly, bringing his beer to his lips as he nods towards his roommate. "Hot date tonight huh?" Logan hums out.

Wade hums softly as he nods, biting his bottom lip as he gives Logan an excited smile. "You bet I do. I am getting laid tonight buddy, I refuse to be the roommates that everyone thinks fuck...unless" his words trail off as he gives Logan a look, wiggling his eyebrows (or lack there of) as he opens his hands and gives him a little spin, shaking his ass at the end.

Logan chuckles as he puts a hand up. "Im good" He refuses before taking another sip of his beer, watching as Wade reaches down to grab a shot glass and a bottle of tequila, pouring some out for himself as he throws it back. "Liquid courage how I love you...its your loss man. I'll go give myself to a woman who actually knows how to fuck" He nods to himself before pouring out another shot, throwing it back and giving Logan a wave as he makes his way to the front door.

"See ya Monday Wolvie!" He chirps out as he leaves with a peace sign, his antics making Logan chuckle softly as his eyes drift over to the bottle off tequila.

He could use some of that with having to face you.

Logan sighs as he gets up, pouring himself a shot and throwing it back before he pours one more and throws that back before he tosses the bottle back into its reserved cupboard, moving to the couch to wait for your inevitable arrival.

knock knock knock!

It comes almost an hour later, the sound making Logans heart seize up, recognizing the familiar knock as if it were his own fucking heartbeat. He inhales deeply, stopping by a nearby mirror and checking himself out before he exhales deeply, moving to open the door.

"I'm a little late! I had to stop at the store to get the proper necessities-" Your words are cut off when you finally look up to see Logan instead of Wade, your face dropping as your mouth hangs open for a moment.

Logan want's to die just from that look in your eyes because you look fucking terrified, you even go as far as taking a step back as you give a nervous laugh.

"Oh...sorry Logan..is umm...is Wade around? He told me to come over..." You quickly explain, quickly fearing that the man will have more mean words for you for knocking on his door again.

It breaks Logan's heart because you don't have that twinkle in your eye anymore, nor do you have that excited smile on your pretty face when you see him and it makes him feel sick to his stomach.

"No he actually just left, you just missed him" He explains with a shrug and a soft apologetic smile.

You clear your throat awkwardly as you nod slowly. "Uhh...No worries! He probably had something to do....could you maybe tell him I was here when you see him? Sorry for bothering you" You mumble out before giving him a tightlipped smile and an awkward wave before you sigh, turning to leave at that.

Bothering him? God, he had really fucked up, hadn't he?

"Wait!" Logan calls out, stepping out into the hallway to catch you before you've made it into your own apartment.

You turn to face him, raising your eyebrows at the man. He groans softly as he stares at you for a moment before he looks back into the apartment, inhaling deeply as he remembered Wade's words

She's just a girl.

"I don't uh...know much about that Vanderpump thing but...I'm not busy, if you wanted someone to watch with tonight?" He sighs out sheepishly, giving you a small smile.

You stare at him for a moment, a soft frown on your lips as you clutch your snacks closer to your chest, using them as somewhat of a shield for your poor heart. You couldn't trust Logan, and you weren't sure if your heart could take anymore of the mean things that he said to you.

"You don't have to pity me or anything....I'm not a child, Logan" You explain to him, voice small and quiet as your frown deepens, your hand coming down to grip your door knob as you let out another sigh.

"Have a goodnight..." You try your best to end it, and it makes Logan groan softly as he quickly rushes towards you, putting his large hand over yours on the doorknob, stopping you from opening it further.

The sudden closeness makes your eyes widen, staring up at the man as his large hand squeezes over yours, the feeling making your heart flutter with excitement.

“I….please….let me makeup for being such a dick the last time we spoke…you deserve it” he nodded, eyes staring deeply into yours as he gives your hand one more squeeze.

You swallow nervously as you stare up at him, hating how warm you feel with him being so close, especially after he was so fucking mean to you all those weeks ago.

You sigh softly before your hand slowly falls from your doorknob, giving Logan a small nod.

“Yeah….okay” you agree with him before you look over to the opened door of his apartment, giving the man a small smile.

“Lead the way Wolvie” you tease him gently, the sound of your playful voice making Logan chuckle softly with you as he sighs in relief, leading you back to his apartment.

Logan can kiss his lucky stars over the fact that you actually agreed to coming back to the apartment with him. Wade was right when he said you’re the must understanding person on the planet.

He finds it hard to focus on the show when you’re this close to him, head resting against the back of the couch as you babysit a bag of sour patch, giggling softly whenever one of the insufferable Los Angeles characters complain about their boyfriend of their girlfriend cheating on them with someone else in their friend group.

It’s hard to focus when you’re this close to him, because he’s never been with you this way before.

You had been on Logan’s mind almost 24/7 since he first met you, and now that he had you with him alone, he didn’t know how to talk to you or how to interact with you. He felt nervous that he would open his mouth and say something stupid.

To sum it up, he was almost 200 years old yet a 20 something year old girl knew how to communicate her feelings better than he did.

You hum softly as you finally look up at him, pouting softly at how stiff the man looked in your presence. "You alright Logan? We can watch something else if you want" You hum out softly as you move to sit criss crossed on the couch, turning your body to face his.

Logan shakes his head as he reaches for the remote, knowing that he would not be able to focus with the sound of three Californian girls fighting over a man named Todd. "Let's talk for a bit....I wanna get to know you more" Logan sighed out softly as he turned to face you a bit more as well, watching as your face beams with excitement over his interest in you.

"Im an open book....what do you wanna know?" You open up as you take a sip of your beer, giving Logan a soft smile.

That was all it really took for you and Logan to actually hit it off, the mans anxiety melting away at the thought of talking to you once he realized how easy going you were. He was able to learn so much about you within the hours that you and him spoke, and before he knew it, it was almost 2 in the morning and you two had been talking since around 9.

"College sucks...Im literally either there or at the bar....its why I find nights with Wade so important" You sighed softly as you explained, your face falling as you pouted a bit.

Logan smiled fondly at you, the many easily seeing how you wore your feelings on your face, you were so expressive, so clear with how you were feeling and open with your emotions.

You truly were an open book.

Logan licked his lips as he brought his beer to his lips, taking a sip as he watched you carefully. Something burned inside of him. something that desperately wanted to grill you about what it was he heard that night through the wall, who it was you were with, if you were still seeing him or not.

"Yeah? Any time for dating then?" He hums out, pink tongue darting out of his mouth to lick his lips as he settles back into the couch. One of his legs were trapped along the couch, caging you in as the other rested on the floor, knee bent as his hand rested on it, legs spread right in front of you.

His question catches you off guard, eyes widening a bit as you try to register if he's asked the question that you think he asked, and if he is, does he mean it in a friendly way?

He has to, right? A man doesn't tell you that he doesn't want you just to grill you about your love life.

You inhale deeply as you try to find the right words to say, wondering how deep you should get into the current state of your love life.

You give Logan a shrug as you take a sip of your beer. "I try....my love life is in shambles though....I truly can't remember the last time I had a decent date" You frown, your words honest as you scrunch your nose in disgust as you think back to the horrible men you've dated.

Logan raises his eyebrows in disbelief at your words before he nods slowly, taking a sip of his drink before he sighs. "Mm...the things I heard through the walls would beg to differ Princess" Logan shoots back without a second thought.

Your eyes widen as you think back to a few nights ago, throwing your head back as you find yourself cringing in embarrassment over the fact that Logan had fucking heard you.

"You heard that? Logan oh my god that is....that is so disgusting on my end I am so sorry, I promise it won't happen again" You ramble, making a mental note to never fuck in your bedroom again as long as Logan was living across from you.

You were going to be having shower sex only.

Logan chuckles softly as he shakes his head, holding his hands up in defense before he speaks. "Oh no need, you sounded like you were having quite the time....don't stop on my account" He smirks at you.

Knowing that you had not the slightest inkling that he was stroking his cock to the very sound of you getting fucked.

You groan softly as you take a healthy swig of your drink, Logan watching closely before he hums out once more.

"New boyfriend?" he questions again, eyes growing darker as he uses the conversation as a gateway into more important things.

You scoff softly as you shake your head. "God no....he's just a guy from my psych class....we met at a party and he took me home and...im sure I can spare you the gory details" You giggle softly before you sigh, moving to rest your head against the back of the couch as you watch the man across from you.

Logan nods slowly, bottom lip tugged beneath his teeth as he listens to you before he speaks.

"Just a guy hum....interesting" Logan nods slowly as he tosses back the rest of his beer before he sets the empty bottle down on the coffee table in front of the both of you, strong hands resting along his denim clad thighs, eyes never leaving yours.

"Forgot about me already baby?" he drawls out, voice low and gruff, dripping with lust as he watches you closely for your reaction.

His tone and words make you perk up, breath hitching in your throat as you face the man completely. His words shoot straight down to your core, making you swallow back a whine as you stare at him with a dumfounded expression.

"I....Logan..." You sigh out softly, your hands resting on your knees and balling into fists as you physically try to stop yourself from doing something you knew you couldn't do.

Logan chuckles softly as he shrugs. "It's true....you forgot all about me princess....it's okay though, I deserve it don't I?" he questions, watching as you silently watch him from across the couch.

When you don't answer, he's quick to pull it out of you. "Answer me baby" His demand makes you flinch softly and you quickly nod before you respond.

"Yeah...you did deserve it..." You agree with him.

Logan nods with you, a soft hum leaving his lips as he watches you. "I did...was so mean to you and you were just being the sweetest thing to me..." He hums softly, watching as you slowly grow softer for him with every word he spoke.

"It's alright baby....did he at least make you cum? I heard you, you know....when you said you were there? sounded so pretty...." He groans softly, a prominent tent forming in his jeans at the mere thought of your moans.

He's shocked when he hears a tiny one leave your lips, your eyes shooting down to his growing cock. It makes him smirk softly, pride filling his chest as he moves his hand down to palm himself before he nods at you.

"Eyes up here baby...thats it..." He nods slowly when he finally has his eyes back on yours.

"Now...answer my question" He urges you once more, his voice deliciously low and gravely, the sound making you squirm in your spot on the couch.

You inhale deeply before you shake your head. "I faked it..." You mumble under your breath, fighting the embarrassment that threatened to creep up your spine.

Logan felt like he had died and gone to heaven.

Because not only were you here with him, but that idiot that got the chance to be with you couldn't even make you cum properly...which only left more room for him to come in and do the job properly.

"You poor thing....I was afraid of that..." He groaned softly before he pat his hand along his lap, calling you over to him.

"C'mere peach...let daddy show you how a real man is supposed to make you feel..." He hummed out softly.

It was all you needed to come crawling over to him like a bitch in heat.

You moaned softly once you were settled down in his lap, either one of your plush thighs straddling his lap, arms wrapping around his neck as you stared down at him with needy eyes, bottom lip tugged between your teeth.

Logan groaned softly, strong hands coming down to grip your waist, tugging you closer as he leaned in, pressing his nose against your collar bone and growling at how fucking good you smelled.

"Atta girl....go on then baby, give daddy a kiss..." He ordered once more.

You wasted no time in pressing your lips to his, moaning softly into his mouth as you tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck.

You're so...fucking sweet, and sugary, and the dulcet sounds of your moans drives Logan absolutely insane, the older man gripping your waist tightly as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, tainting you for anyone who ever dares to kiss you after he has.

Logan groans into the kiss when he feels you rocking your hips back and forth, grinding your pussy against his bulge.

"Needy huh? Want daddy to help you baby? Yeah?" He groans out, your forehead resting against his as you nod, breathing heavily as you continue grinding down onto his bulge.

Logan chuckles softly as he nods, his hand going around your middle before he flips you around, tugging you down so that your back is pressed against his chest, his chin resting on your shoulder as he hums softly.

His hands trail down your body slowly, the little top you have on has a tie at the front, one that if Logan so much as flicks, will come undone. It makes him smirk softly as he takes one of the strings between his thumb and pointer finger, tugging at it slowly until your boobs bounce free, making him hiss softly.

"Fuck, look at that....such a pretty girl...." His hands look so rough along your soft skin, calloused fingers running along either one of your tits, cupping and massaging them delicately before he brings your nipples into his finger, twisting them slightly before he goes back to cupping them all over again.

You're so sensitive, so responsive to his touch. Your hand goes up to cup your hand over his thats working on your boobs, your hips bucking up into nothing as your other hand goes up and around Logan to hold onto his head.

"Logan...please..." You moan softly, your words making Logan smirk softly as he nods, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"Im here baby....just enjoying all of you first" He explains before his hands go down your body.

Soon enough, he's unbuttoning your denim jeans, one of his hands coming up to raise your hips as he tugs them off your legs with your panties in one swift move before tossing them somewhere else in the living room.

Logan lets out a low gasp when his neck cranes down against your shoulder to look down at the mess between your legs, his strong hands creeping down to where you need him the most, your own hands pressing against his thigh.

"Fuck princess....so wet already....all this for me?" He hums out softly.

Either of his hands go down between your legs, pressing right against either one of your lips as he massages you softly, the feeling making your eyes roll back as your head falls against Logan's shoulder.

He smirks softly, his head coming down to attach his lips to your neck as one of his hands comes up to hold your hips down, pressing you flush against his body whilst the other starts rubbing your clit slowly.

"Such a good girl...letting daddy apologize for being so mean...thats it baby...fuck...thats it...." He urges you on further as his skilled fingers slowly works on your clit, your moans like music to his ears as he gives you exactly what you needed.

"Daddy...im....fuck....don't stop" You whine softly, gripping his wrist as he continues playing with your pussy, the feeling making your eyes roll. You're damn near drooling and all the man is doing is rubbing your clit for you.

It makes Logan chuckle softly, his fingers speeding up as his lips unlatch from your neck so he's able to look down at you, not wanting to miss the fucked out state of bliss written all over your face that's coming to you all because of him.

"Come on baby....cum all over your daddy's fingers, give it to me princess" He growls, picking up the pace as he begins grinding his hard on into your ass from behind, matching the way your hips roll to chase the rhythm of his fingers.

You're squirming so much at this point, a moaning mess as Logan holds you down by your hip, forcing you to take what he gives you, not giving you the chance to run away from the pleasure he so desperately wants to give to you.

"Oh my god! Im gonna fu-ahhh!" You moan loudly, back arching off of Logans chest as you cum hard all over his fingers.

Logan moans with you, watching in awe as you become a puddle of nothing but moans and gasps as you come down from your high, his fingers working slowly on your swollen pussy as your arousal drools out onto his fingers, forcing them to slip around and lose their place as he works on you.

"That's a good girl...thats daddy's good fucking girl....thats it....im right here baby...daddys gotchu" He praises you, soft whines and moans leaving your lips as his rough hands move from your pussy to instead run along your body, holding you, massaging you, making it known that he was indeed there with you.

It takes a few minutes for you to catch your breath properly, when you do, you finally feel Logans very large bulge pressing into your ass.

He's too busy pressing kisses along your throat and jaw, working his way up to your cheek and the corner of your lips to make sure you were there with him and comfortable.

"Logan..." You mumble softly before you roll your hips down against his cock, your eyes locking with his as you stare up at him with a needy glint in yours.

Logan raises his eyebrows at your actions, holding onto your hips as he guides you to grind down onto his lap.

"You want daddy's cock baby? Is that it?" He questions, his words alone making you moan softly as you nod, your hand coming up and tugging his head down to press against your lips.

"Please fuck me daddy..." You moan against him, pushing your tongue into his mouth as you swallow his groans.

He nods against you, silently reaching between the two of you to undo the button to his jeans and pulling his cock out, tongue playing with yours as he sits you both up a bit before he grabs both of your thighs, lifting you up and making you gasp softly.

"Don't worry princess...Daddy's got you..." he assures you before he slowly sinks you down onto his cock.

Both of you moan softly in unison, his length filling you up completely, making your eye roll back as as he settles you down onto his lap.

"Logan...L-Lo...you're so big...fuck" You gasp out, struggling to even form words properly as Logan's arms wraps around your waist, holding you close against his chest as he slowly starts to fuck up into you.

"You can take it baby...fuck...such a tight little pussy...so fuckin' good for me...takin' me so well angel" Logan growled against you, lips pressed against your back as he found a steady rhythm in fucking you.

You're a moaning mess. Logan is so big, and he fills you up so well, better than anyone ever has, and it makes you feel like you'll fucking cry because of how good it feels.

Logan growls every time your pussy tightens around him, wrapping him up and keeping him so warm. He’s forgotten how fucking good it feels to be this close to someone, hearing such pretty moans….

Logan thinks he could get used to this….

Logan thinks he could get used to you.

“Come on baby….give it to me…cum all over my fuckin cock” He urges you, wanting nothing more than to feel your pretty pussy spasm on his length.

You gasp softly, struggling to hold your head up as he defiles you from down below, making a mess of your pussy as he pounds into you like a wild fucking animal, the feeling foreign to anything you’ve ever experienced for. He’s like a machine, and his skilled cock as your head spinning.

“Daddy…daddy I…I can’t…you’re gonna make me cum-“ your words are cut off by just that, a loud shriek ripping through your lungs as you cum hard all over Logan’s cock just like he asked of you.

“That’s my fuckin’ girl, fuck yeah…you want Daddy to cum inside you baby? Yeah? Want Daddy to fill up this pretty pussy?” He growls out, his own eyes fluttering shut at the mere thought of cumming inside your pussy, filling you up and making him as your own.

You’re nodding like an idiot, all dumb and cock drunk as the pleasure fades and the overstimulation takes place, making your mind fuzzy and the world around you dull, the only thing you’re able to focus on being Logan.

“Please…want you to cum inside Daddy….wanna be yours” you moan out softly, your eyes rolling back as you allow Logan to continue fucking up into you mercilessly, turning your brain into mush with every thrust.

“All mine baby…all Daddy’s…fuck…that’s it baby…let daddy fill up this little pussy….fuckfuckfuck” Logan growls out, his moans strangled as he pulls you down roughly onto his lap, his cock twitching with every spurt of cum, painting your insides with his seed as his large hands press your sweaty body flush against his.

You both sit there like that for quite a while, his hands massaging your skin, thumbs rubbing small circles into your abdomen as you both try to catch your breath, the come down sucking all of the energy out of both of you while you enjoy the warmth of being connected to one another.

After a moment passes, you’re finally the one to break the silence, a gentle smirk on your face as you turn around a bit to face Logan.

“So….I guess it’s safe to say I am your type of girl after all?” You tease the man as you recall the words he’d said to you all those weeks ago.

It makes Logan groan softly as he cringes at himself, finally giving in and resting his chin against your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek as he nods.

“Yeah….I guess you are princess…”

#wolverine #wolverine smut #logan howlett #logan howlett smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine x y/n #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #deadpool wolverine #wolverine angst #logan howlett angst

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nullen-void · 14 days ago

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For a long time I wondered if the final TF2 comic would ever come out. For a longer time I wondered if I wanted it to. They built it up so much, hyped the Administrator's big plan so high, and then waited so long, could they possibly ever meet expectations?

I don't know if what they did was what they originally planned, or if there even was a plan, but I think they knocked it out of the park. It feels... right.

And it cemented the Administrator as one of the most terrifying villains in history. But before I discuss that, SPOILERS:

It was all pointless. None of it ever mattered.

The Gravel Wars, the fighting, the Australium, the deaths, the Classic Mercs, none of it mattered at all. Because Helen or whatever her name is just an addict getting her fix.

She kept a man alive for near enough two hundred years, trapped in the moment just before death by a thousand diseases, because she dedicated her life so thoroughly to ending him that when he finally croaked, she had nothing left. So she brought him back to suffer more. And then extended her OWN life so she could keep making him suffer.

And she doesn't even remember why. She was a child when Zepheniah Mann killed her parents, and she's something like a hundred and seventy years old now. It's been three normal lifetimes since then, and she's forgotten. But she never forgot the hate.

She sabotaged two infant's futures by raising them to be bafoons just to hurt their father. She orchestrated a forever war to spite a single man. She was prepared to keep this going until the heat death of the universe.

Do you know what would have happened if Pauling had lost her nerve and admitted they found a new stash of magic metal? With all three Mann brothers dead, she probably would have gone after Olivia. The last Mann standing, and a girl who at the time was only seven and had barely any connection to the Mann legacy at all, and probably didn't know her grandfather's name! And Helen would have gone after her and ruined her life just to make Zepheniah watch as yet another generation of Mann was ruined.

What a pointless, misspent life. What a waste of time. What an ending.

It makes what comes next all the greater. Scout and Soldier are dads with happy children, Spy still can't admit their relation but gets to be part of his grandkids' lives and he and Jeremy trust each other enough that Scout doesn't blink when he takes his mask off. Team Fortress is happy. They moved on. Found new lives.

Helen couldn't. She had all the time in the world and then some, and she just couldn't move on.

What a waste.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 comics #tf2 spoilers #the days have worn away #the administrator

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gabseyoo · 2 months ago

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DON'T WASTE THE NIGHT — SAKUSA KIYOOMI

content: college/university!au, halloween setting, female reader, virgin!kiyoomi, popular!reader, virginity loss, mutual pining, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, pretty vanilla but cute, mean girls references, kiyoomi might be a little occ, he’s shy :(, atsumu being atsumu. word count: 8,0k.

notes: yes i’m late to halloween but i don’t care :) it’s being so long since i posted a one shot and i had this idea for maybe a year, two (?), and i finally had the inspiration to write everythiiing. i’m happy with the result, i hope you like it too <3

Halloween parties were not Kiyoomi's thing. Rather, no party at all. He didn't like the crowds, the drunks, or the excessive noise. But thanks to his group of friends (which he doesn't even remember how he ended up being a part of), staying away from parties was almost impossible, so it was already a common thing for him to be dragged to one every weekend where he would be counting the minutes to leave and drive all his drunk friends home.

But, that was not the case tonight.

Surprisingly, it was the first time Kiyoomi didn't want to leave a party, and that was thanks to a certain someone who had shown up at the Miya's Halloween party.

"Just go talk to her."

Kiyoomi almost jumped in surprise at the sudden appearance of his personal headache, also known as Atsumu.

"Who?" He asked, playing dumb because he knew perfectly well who the blond was referring to, and mentally slapped himself for not being more discreet.

Atsumu snorted, "Y/n. You're staring at her like a creep." He said, pointing his head in your direction across the room, where you were talking enthusiastically with your friend, dressed in a pink tracksuit. "I don't blame you. She's pretty."

Sakusa kept silent, trying to suppress his need to agree out loud, because of course you were pretty. More than pretty.

"You like her, don't you?"

Kiyoomi sighed heavily, obviously uncomfortable with the question. It was obvious he liked you. Very much. But he didn't trust Atsumu to be able to not make a big deal out of the fact that Sakusa liked someone, so he decided to answer his question with a dry: "No."

"Liar." The blond replied. "It's pretty obvious that you like her."

"I don't like her." He insisted, though he already knew it would be in vain, it wasn't for nothing he called Atsumu his headache.

"So you hate her and you're staring at her 'cause you're planning her murder?"

Jesuschrist.

"I'll be planning your murder if you don't shut up."

Atsumu pursed his lips and Kiyoomi thanked god in his head. But the fake threat seemed to work only for a limited time, because the twin spoke again seconds later, making him roll his eyes.

"Don't you even think she's pretty?"

He let out a sigh in frustration, but agreed with the question because, c’mon, it will be a very blatant lie to deny the obvious, "She is." He admitted, "But I don't like her."

"You do like her, there can't be any other reason why you were looking at her like that."

Kiyoomi rolled his eyes, is there a way to shut this guy down?

"Like what?"

"Like you like her."

"If I say so, will you shut the fuck up?" He blurted, resigned.

"I knew it!" Atsumu exclaimed victoriously, and Kiyoomi just let out a sigh, cringing when the twin tapped him a little too hard on the shoulder as if he was congratulating him. "Wow. So Omi likes someone, huh, who knew."

"Don't make a big deal out of it."

"Omi, liking someone isn't a bad thing." He said in a more earnest manner, perhaps trying to show that he was actually serious and not joking about his friend’s situation.

Kiyoomi closed his eyes for a moment and sighed before replying, "I know it's not."

"Then why don't you go and talk to her? She's in your class, isn't she? It wouldn't be weird. Maybe she likes you back."

The twin had a point. Sakusa sat behind you for two hours straight five days a week during a very boring class. While you might not call yourselves the best of friends, you could say you got along well— you would usually turn around to ask him if he understood the subject so he could explain it to you, borrow a pen or offer him a gum. Occasionally you would randomly show him your phone with something you thought was funny and there were even times when you would ask his opinion on which item to buy or which selfie to post, you would often have small conversations and even followed each other on Instagram. And, as a bonus, lately you had started walking together to the classroom exit at the end of class where you would say goodbye with a 'see you tomorrow'.

But you liking him back? He didn't think he was that lucky.

Because, yes, maybe you weren't a stranger to Kiyoomi and he wasn't a stranger to you either, but contrary to what many believed, Sakusa Kiyoomi didn't have much experience with women, not even with having a crush on someone. The idea of talking to you outside the classroom made him nervous. You were too pretty and too charming and too popular and too hot and... out of his league.

There were times when he wondered if it was possible for you to like him? Okay, call him arrogant, but he knew he was nowhere near ugly, that was a point in his favor. But one point that was not in his favor was the fact that, yes, maybe he was good-looking, but the university was full of good-looking guys, who unlike him, were more... outgoing. Guys who smiled more and didn't have a grumpy attitude like he did, who weren't known for being rude, and who probably wouldn't think twice about asking for your number or inviting you on a date. And, honestly, he felt like one more in the very long list of men who have a crush on you.

"It's just..." He started, but the words were lost in his throat.

"Just what?"

"She doesn't see me that way. Just leave it at that, okay?" He finished his sentence, taking a sip from the bottle of water he'd been carrying since he arrived.

Atsumu folded his arms, glancing in your direction for a moment before making that smile that never meant anything good, "You know what? I have an idea."

Kiyoomi panicked. "Miya, what are you gonna do?"

"You'll thank me later."

And just like that, Atsumu pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against and before Sakusa could stop him, he started walking in your direction.

No. No. No. No. Kiyoomi's heart was going to escape from his chest. Fuck. He knew it was a bad idea to be honest with Atsumu. A. Fucking. Bad. Idea.

He watched frozen from his spot in the corner of the room the moment the blond approached you, greeting you and your friend casually before saying who knows what that made you look at him with confusion for a moment as you exchanged more words, but after something that left the blond's mouth, your face lit up with a smile. The interaction seemed to be going well, until the twin pointed— really fucking pointed—over his shoulder, and then, you connected your eyes with Kiyoomi’s for a moment.

His feet began to move automatically.

Towards the exit.

He was so embarrassed. What did Atsumu say to you? What did you think? Fuck. He didn't even want to know. He was out of here, he'd move his seat to the other end of the classroom, or better yet, he'd never set foot in that class again, who cares if he had to repeat it next semester, that was better than looking you in the face after this.

"Where do you think you're goin'?"

Sakusa was halfway to his car when he heard the twin's voice call out to him.

"Home."

Atsumu trotted up in front of him. "Come on. Don't be like that, listen-"

"You fucking embarrassed me." He spat, pulling his keys out of his jacket roughly.

"I didn't. I just did you a favor." Atsumu replied, crossing his arms proudly, which only raised Kiyoomi's anger levels.

Don't punch him. Don't punch him. Don't punch him.

"Fuck you, don't talk to me ever again."

"C'mon Kiyoomi, trust me. You think I'm capable of making a fool of you?" The twin asked with confidence in his voice. Kiyoomi simply looked at him, his silence explaining his answer, which caused Atsumu's smile to disappear. "Ouch." The twin brought a hand to his chest dramatically and Kiyoomi rolled his eyes before pressing a button on the control, removing the lock and alarm.

He was barely about to open the car door when Atsumu spoke again. This time in a more serious tone, "Omi, I'm your friend. Just trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you."

Kiyoomi would never admit that those words made him feel a little bad about his attitude.

Without removing his hand from the door handle, he blurted out the question that was consuming him and that he needed an answer to.

"What did you tell her?"

For some reason, he expected Atsumu to answer with honesty, but he wasn't surprised when instead, the twin simply replied, "A wingman never reveals his secrets."

"Oh, fuck off." He mused, opening his car door just a few centimeters before the other man's hand closed it.

"Look, just go inside and talk to her. I swear I saw it in her face that she’s interested, of course, until you ran away like a chicken. I hope she's not offended and you've lost the opportunity of a lifetime."

Only a sentence of Atsumu's words caught his attention.

"What do you mean with 'she looked interested'?" He asked, his voice betraying him by not sounding as disinterested as he wanted it to.

Atsumu smirked. "It seems like she does see you that way."

You do?

The mere possibility of that being true, of you seeing him that way, was what prompted him to let out a last sigh and set the car alarm again before locking his keys in his hoodie. Although he wouldn't say this out loud and was still unhappy with Atsumu's actions, the twin was right in saying that this could be his chance. Maybe he should stop feeling self-conscious and just go for it.

"If you're lying, you forget I exist."

"Deal." Atsumu said, stretching out his hand, waiting for him to take it, but the black-haired simply brushed past him, to which the twin simply huffed in resignation before following his friend.

Kiyoomi's feet felt heavier with every step he took back to the twins' house, he was going to do it. He was actually going to do it. He was going to talk to you outside the classroom, after whatever Atsumu had told you, which opened the door to many possibilities. One, was that you liked him; the other, was that you didn't and that you only saw him as a friend, he longed too much for the first option but he wouldn't be dissatisfied with the second, it all depended on how things turned out when he walked through the door in front of him.

Kiyoomi inhaled and exhaled, filling himself with courage before placing his hand on the doorknob.

But that burst of bravery he was able to fill himself with was interrupted by the twin, who stopped him with a grip on the wrist.

"Don't touch m-" He didn't finish his sentence since Atsumu put something cold in the palm of his hand.

"Here." Atsumu whispered and Kiyoomi looked at the object, frowned in confusion when he realized it was a key. "It's the key to the guest room. Use it wisely."

Use it wisely? What did that mean?

"Why would I want to-" Kiyoomi started, but the twin interrupted him, raising a finger to silence him.

"Shh. Thank me when you're at the altar and I'm your best man. Let's go inside."

And just like that, Atsumu grabbed his arm to pull him inside the house.

Bruno Mars' voice was blaring from the speakers in the living room, people were singing at the top of their lungs, drinking and dancing, evidently having a good time. Sometimes Kiyoomi wondered how the twins knew so many people, there were so many guests that they had to push their way through the crowd to get to where you were still standing by the kitchen area, looking spectacular as ever as you talked to your friend.

As if you sensed his presence, you turned your face and your eyes met, causing Kiyoomi's heart to skip a beat. Damn, was this a good idea?

"Here he is." Atsumu announced their arrival excitedly. "The Kiyoomi I was telling you about. Does he look familiar?"

Sakusa almost rolled his eyes, but the chuckle you let out at Atsumu's humor stopped him, "Yes, I think I know him." You replied, your eyes still fixed on the tall black-haired man in front of you.

"Perfect!" He exclaimed, clasping his hands together enthusiastically. "Then, since there's no need for introductions, I'll leave you two alone." The twin said, patting him on the back before turning and leaving.

"Yeah, me too." Your friend said, throwing you a mischievous look and copying Atsumu's action, losing herself in the crowd.

Now that you were alone (if it could be considered "alone" in a room full of people), he wondered where the direct Kiyoomi was when he needed him. Say something, say something, say something, say something. He mentally shouted to himself, but he was so intimidated by your presence and the cute way you were looking at him that no words could formulate in his mouth.

"Uh—, hi." He said after a few awkward seconds of silence, trying to play it cool by leaning against the kitchen island.

"Hi." You replied with a smile and looked up at him, as if waiting for him to say something else, but at Kiyoomi's lack of response, you continued, "How are you?"

So fucking nervous, he wanted to say, but instead, a 'fine and you?' left his mouth.

"Me too." You said, and he noticed how you bit your lip lightly, as if you were thinking of what to say before speaking again: "Um… did you do the homework for Monday?"

"Yes, and you?"

"Yup."

Fuck. This was pathetic. He was pathetic. If he were someone else, someone like Atsumu perhaps, he might have already charmed you with words, made you laugh and you would be having a more enjoyable conversation.

After a sigh, you spoke again. "Are you drinking?"

"Yes." He said, raising his water bottle and feeling stupid a second later, obviously by that question you meant was he consuming alcohol. "Something like that. And you?"

"Something like that" You repeated his words, raising a glass goblet showing what appeared to be a cocktail. "It’s strawberry juice, goes with my costume, and I'm also driving tonight, so I can't drink too much."

"That's very responsible of you."

That's very responsible of you?!

Couldn't he think of something more stupid to say? Probably not.

But if you thought his answer was stupid, you didn't give it away, since you giggled before saying, "I think it is."

In an attempt to divert attention from his very stupid comment, he took advantage of the information you gave him about the drink to salvage this interaction. "So— why the drink goes with the costume?"

"You don't know who I am?" You asked, raising your arms to better show off your costume. It was very 2000s style. A pink tracksuit, a white blouse under it, also a necklace.

"Uh— Paris Hilton?" He guessed, inwardly hoping he was right.

You giggled again. "Almost. I'm Regina George's mom." You said, giving him a bump with your shoulder against his arm. And, amazingly, Kiyoomi for the first time did not find an unexpected physical contact upsetting. "What do you think? I didn't know who to dress up as and this was last minute."

"You look…" Divine. "Good."

"Thank you." As soon as your words were out of your mouth, he noticed how you stared at his outfit, squinting your eyes and making a tender gesture with your mouth that he had learned you did when you thought of something. "Come to think of it, you pretty much look like Damien in that hoodie. You should just add some sunglasses." You added after a few seconds, pointing to the blue fabric covering his body.

Kiyoomi frowned. Damien? Who the fuck was Damien and why he looked like him?

“Who?” He asked.

“Damien? The guy who shows up in the middle of the gym scene? With the blue hoodie and glasses? You haven't seen Mean Girls?”

The tone in which you said it made him regret having refused his cousin’s offer to see that damn movie a few months ago.

"No, I've only heard of it." He admitted with a shrug.

Surprisingly, you smiled at his response, "It's a classic. We should see it sometime."

We should. A half smile appeared on his face at the word we. "Yes, we should."

"Um, do you wanna go watch the beer pong game?"

—

Two hours later, Kiyoomi found himself having what was perhaps the longest conversation with a girl of his life, and the one he had enjoyed the most.

After awkwardly breaking the ice and watching Atsumu lose (two times in a row) in beer pong, you moved to the living room, where you luckily found space on the couch where you had been sitting since then.

Kiyoomi leaned back against the couch, his elbow resting on the armrest as he listened intently to you recount an embarrassing childhood memory that had him chuckling softly. The sight was rare, and his friends’ curious stares only made it rarer, he knew they were probably losing their minds right now, but he tried to ignore them, though, focusing instead on the way your eyes lit up when you spoke. You were magnetic in a way he hadn’t expected, and the realization only deepened the smile tugging at his lips. God, how much he regretted not having the self-confidence to talk to you in this way much earlier.

“Okay, your turn.” You said, nudging his knee lightly with yours.

“My turn?”

“To tell me something embarrassing. Come on, don’t hold out on me now.” You teased, leaning just a fraction closer.

Kiyoomi let out a low groan, feigning reluctance. “Fine. But you owe me for this.”

As he started to recount a story about an unfortunate middle school haircut incident, his voice grew more animated, his laughter trying to break through every now and then, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the room melted away.

The conversation flowed naturally, but there was an underlying tension, an awareness that neither of you could ignore. When he finished his story, you both fell into a comfortable silence, your knees still brushing against each other.

“Is it me or the twins keep staring at us?” You asked out of the blue, pointing with your head to a spot behind Kiyoomi, who didn't even want to bother turning around—because most likely no, it wasn't you—but still did, finding both twins pretending to look away before going their separate ways, Atsumu bumping into someone in the attempt.

He sighed deeply, his lips pressing into a line. “Ignore them. They’re just… nosy.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Nosy about what?”

His face turned a faint shade of red, and he leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Kiyoomi didn't want to, but he would tell you the truth. “Probably that I'm talking to a girl.”

You chuckled, maybe finding his bashfulness endearing. “Do you not talk to girls often or something?”

“No.” He said, pretending that the admission didn't make him feel a little embarrassed.

“And is there any special reason why I'm the lucky one?”

Kiyoomi hesitated, his gaze flickering to yours before dropping to where your knees touched. His mind raced for an answer, but nothing felt sufficient—not for what he was feeling, not for why you had captivated him so completely.

“You're… different.” He finally said, his voice quieter than before.

“Different how?” You asked, your tone teasing but your eyes soft with curiosity.

He let out a breath, his hand brushing against his neck again, “You're easy to talk to. Genuine. And you're…” He stopped himself, shaking his head with a self-conscious laugh.

“I'm what?” You prompted, leaning in slightly, your voice coaxing.

“You're just… you. And I like that.”

Your playful expression softened into something warmer, and the space between you felt even smaller. “That's probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me, Kiyoomi.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The silence that followed wasn't awkward—it was charged, alive with a tension neither of you could deny anymore. His hand, resting between you on the couch, shifted slightly, his fingers brushing yours. The touch was brief, almost hesitant, but it was enough to make you glance up at him.

In that moment, something unspoken passed between you—an understanding, a shared want that neither of you could ignore any longer.

Kiyoomi leaned in slowly, his movements deliberate, as if savoring every second leading up to the moment his lips met yours. When they did, the kiss was soft, tentative at first, but it quickly deepened as the world around you faded into the background. He wasn't an experienced kisser, he hadn't done it enough times in his life to consider himself one, but he let instinct guide him, following your rhythm. It was slow and even sweet, he could taste the flavor of your gloss. Strawberry. Maybe the same one he always saw you applying in the middle of class and now decided it was his new favorite flavor.

Kiyoomi doesn't know at what point the kiss became a little more intense. He could feel you pressing into him as you pulled one of your legs up onto his lap. He was so immersed in the kiss that he even forgot where he was, in the middle of a party, on an old couch surrounded by strangers and friends.

This same realization also seems to have reached you, because at that very moment you broke the kiss. And even though only seconds had passed, he already missed the feeling of your lips against his.

“Well—” You said, your voice light but still a little shaky. “I think your friends will definitely have something to talk about now.”

Kiyoomi chuckled softly, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. “Let them.”

You looked into his eyes and smiled at him, you looked very pretty with your slightly swollen lips and bright eyes. At that moment, Kiyoomi wondered if this was real or some dream, he was almost certain that his eyes betrayed how madly smitten he was by you.

“Kiyoomi,” You said, your voice breaking him out of his thoughts.

He tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in curiosity. “Yeah?”

Your next words, simple yet charged, left him momentarily stunned.

“Can we go somewhere else?”

—

When Atsumu gave him the key to the guest room, he never thought he would actually use it. But here he was, with a very excited you at his side waiting for him to open the door. He really hoped you wouldn't ask why he had that key, because he knew he didn't want to lie to you as he also knew he didn't want to give you the explanation.

After he opened the door, he stepped aside to let you in first before passing behind you. And something that caught him off guard was, when he barely closed the door behind him, you were quick to lock it before you put your hands on his cheeks to kiss him again. This time hungrier, more passionate.

You were a good kisser, too good. And that only made Sakusa more nervous than he already was, he knew what you wanted, he knew where this was headed. And even though he wanted it too, the reality is that he had no idea what the fuck to do.

His body was tensing up, overthinking the situation. He was not experienced in this area, not at all.

Still, he tried to keep up with you, walking backwards as you kissed him until he fell into a sitting position on the bed.

In a matter of seconds, Kiyoomi watched as you took off your pink sweater, staying only in your tank top which didn't cover you for long, since you took it off immediately, leaving a very nice white bra in sight.

It would be a lie to say that Kiyoomi was not hard. Because he was. Perhaps much harder than he had ever been in his life.

“I really wanted to do this.” You said, and without even giving Kiyoomi time to process what you just confessed, you kissed him again, took both of his hands and brought them to your breasts as you straddled his lap.

Kiyoomi almost choked when he felt your soft breasts under his palms, but instead of doing something with his hands, he stayed still, afraid to make a move you might not like.

He was frustrated with himself. He literally had the girl of his dreams all over him, kissing him, letting him touch her after admitting that she wanted to do this and he just did nothing.

Just relax, he told himself. Let yourself go.

But his body seemed to betray him again the moment your hands went to his pants with the intention of unbuttoning them, because the first reaction he had was to stop you while from his mouth escaped a “Wait.”

“What happened?” You asked, your brow furrowed, obviously confused by his sudden reaction.

C'mon, Kiyoomi, just tell her. She's an angel, she will understand.

“I don't know how to say this.” He mumbled, almost to himself. Still, he took a deep breath, encouraging himself to speak. “I, uh- I don't-” He tried to explain himself, but before he could complete the sentence, you interrupted him.

“You don't want to do this, do you?” You spoke softly, Kiyoomi looked up, meeting your face which had an expression full of disappointment.

His stomach turned over, no, no, no, no. You had misunderstood. “Y/n, that wasn't what—”

You quickly got up from his lap and bent down to pick up your shirt, “It's okay, I just-” Your voice broke as tears escaped your eyes and Kiyoomi felt like he wanted to kill himself at that moment, “I just want you to know that I'm not usually like this, but, when Atsumu told me that you liked me I thought that— I'm sorry, this is embarrassing.” The words rushed out of your mouth as you put your clothes back on.

Kiyoomi would ignore (for now) that Atsumu really told you that he liked you literally only minutes after he admitted it, he would kill him later, now his main priority was you and clearing up this mess as soon as possible.

“Hey, wait.” He said, holding you by the wrist to keep you from turning around and leaving. “I'm sorry. This is a misunderstanding, just, listen to me for a minute.”

You looked at him silently before turning to face him again.

He took a deep breath before continuing, “I like you, too much. I've been for a long time. And believe me when I tell you I really want to do it.” He admitted, and before you could say anything, he continued, “It's just that, I’m really fucking nervous. I— I've never done this.” His last words came out in a lower tone due to nerves and perhaps some embarrassment. But there was no turning back now.

You looked at him for a few seconds, blinking at him before asking, “Done... what?”

“This.”

“Oh. Are you a…” You said, leaving the last word up in the air, but he mentally finished it for you, knowing full well what you were going to say.

A virgin.

“Yes.” He confirmed it.

You were silent, and although it was somewhat dark, Kiyoomi could tell the shock on your face. He understood. If he were you, he might have been surprised too, since it's a fact that not many people expect.

Kiyoomi was silent as well, silently mourning for himself. Thinking that maybe he ruined everything and a part of him was afraid that you would make fun of him. But the truth is that he was more worried if you left, how would he look at your face after that? He wouldn't be able to. It looked like he would have to take back the plan to leave that class and move to another country, which was a shame, because everything was going so well.

His thoughts were interrupted when out of nowhere you let out a chuckle.

“I'm kind of dramatic, don't you think?”

What?

“I rushed to think that the reason you were a little tense and decided to stop was because you didn't like me, I never imagined that it was because you were… nervous. I'm really sorry, Kiyoomi.”

“Hey, It's okay, don't apologize. ” He said before taking both of your hands in his, “I should do it for not saying it from the beginning.”

“I didn't even give you the time to do it, I rushed too much, I should have taken it slower. But, I was excited, I mean, I just found out that the guy I like, likes me too.”

Okay, this is the second time you've admitted that you liked Kiyoomi. And wow, it felt fantastic to hear it, it felt so good and surreal at the same time that after all, it seemed that his feelings were indeed reciprocal.

“I think I ruined the mood.” You said in a chuckle, making Kiyoomi frown. “It's okay if you want to stop.”

He didn't want to stop, in fact, he felt quite the opposite. He wanted to do it, with you and only you. So he didn't think much of it when he asked, “Do you?”

“Huh?”

“Do you want to stop?”

He watched you bite your lip lightly before responding in the most adorable voice ever, “No.”

“Me neither.”

You looked at each other for a few more seconds before you wrapped your arms around his neck to bring your lips together again. The kiss was slower, and for some reason it felt much more intimate.

Kiyoomi returned his hands to your waist, now feeling more comfortable enough to caress you with his thumbs before slowly moving down your hips to your thighs, you seemed to understand what he wanted, because you automatically straddled his lap again.

After the awkward moment you just spent, his erection had softened, but when he felt your center against his crotch, combined with the kiss becoming more passionate, his dick soon got hard again. You felt it, of course you felt it. That must have been why you began to move slowly over him, brushing your sex against his, which caused Kiyoomi to moan against your mouth.

Kiyoomi by this point felt more comfortable, perhaps more confident, so he dared to run his hands up your sides until he reached the hem of your blouse.

“Can I take it off?” He asked after breaking the kiss, and you looked so cute when you let out a giggle and nodded before raising your arms as Kiyoomi pulled up the fabric.

Your bra came back into view, but not for long, as you brought your hands behind your back to unfasten it to let it fall to the side—Kiyoomi thanked mentally for this because he was sure it would have taken him quite a while to remove it by himself—.

The light coming through the window was enough to appreciate you well, which he was grateful for, because he really didn't want to miss any detail of seeing you this way. His thumbs went up to caress your nipples, which were erect and looked too cute. It was a gentle touch first before cradling both breasts in his hands and squeezing them gently.

“Can I...?” The question was lost in his throat, somewhat shy even to speak during this moment.

“Kiyoomi,” You said his name, grabbing him by the cheeks to make him look at your face, perhaps so he would be a hundred percent sure you meant what you were about to say, “You can do anything you want to me. If I don't like something, I promise I'll tell you, okay?”

He looked at you for a few seconds before answering, appreciating your face completely, from your eyes to your lips. God, you were so beautiful. “Okay.”

Kiyoomi kissed your neck and left a small peck on your collarbone before taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He took it slowly, running his tongue softly over it before sucking gently, and somehow he felt proud of himself when you let out a little moan and brought your hand to his black curls.

He took his time, enjoying the taste of your skin in his mouth as he switched from one nipple to the other and finding delight in the little sounds you made until he felt eager for more. When he parted his lips from you, it was to remove his hoodie and t-shirt in one motion, letting them fall to the floor.

“Wow,” The expression came out of you almost automatically at the sight of his body. Your delicate hands went to his biceps, making a path along his skin, past his shoulders to his chest. “How can you be so hot?”

Your words caught him off guard, so he couldn't help the laughter that came out of him. “You think?”

“Of course, just look at you.” Your hands followed their trail, down his abs to his v-line, at that moment he knew what you would do next. You settled on his thighs, leaving more space between his crotch and yours, then lowered your hand to the noticeable bulge in his pants.

Kiyoomi almost moaned when you stroked him and almost choked on his own saliva when your thumb circled the tip, god, he knew he was leaking and hoped it didn't feel in his pants.

It was the moment you squeezed him, that something changed inside him, he felt eager for more, and although he didn't want to rush this, he dared to bring your lips together again and, placing a hand on your lower back to keep you from falling, he turned around to lay you down on the bed.

When he felt your hands on the edge of your pants, he decided to break the kiss and positioned himself in the middle of your legs to help you complete the action, pulling the fabric gently down your legs to drop them on the floor. Fuck. He gave himself the pleasure of admiring for a moment your beautiful form in front of him, in nothing but underwear, and practically giving yourself to him. If he was dreaming, he will kill whoever wakes him up.

His hands went up your thighs until they reached the edge of your underwear to start pulling it down, you raised your hips to help him and that was the moment where Kiyoomi saw for the first time your pussy. He gulped when in top of that, you spread your legs just as he finished removing the garment, exposing you completely to him, letting him see all of you.

Now, what was he supposed to do? Sakusa was not completely uneducated on the subject, he knew where he was supposed to touch or even kiss. But he also knew that knowing it wasn't the same as doing it. So he preferred to be honest and let you guide him rather than try to do something he wasn't entirely sure you would like.

“I really want to make you feel good, but, can you just…” For some reason (embarrassment) the words were lost in his throat.

“Guide you?” You finished the sentence for him.

“Something like that.” He mumbled.

You smiled with what Kiyoomi guessed would be tenderness before taking his hand and guiding it to the middle of your legs.

The first touch almost knocked the wind out of him and made his erection press harder against his pants, fuck, you were so wet and he could hardly believe it was because of him.

Sakusa leaned forward with one arm by the side of your head, meeting your face a few inches from his as you whispered to him how to please you. He circled your clit at the speed you liked, thrusting his fingers in and out, hitting that sensitive spot inside you that you helped him find, enjoying the moans that came from your beautiful lips and the way one of your hands squeezed his shoulder with pleasure.

You kissed him the moment you started to cum on his fingers, your legs even trembled and Kiyoomi had never felt so proud of himself. He kissed you with the same desire, not ceasing to give you pleasure until you asked him to stop because of over stimulation.

“God… you're so beautiful.” The words came out of their own accord as he looked down at you.

“You think?” You smirked.

“Every day.”

“I never thought you'd see me that way, you know?” Those words were kind of funny coming from you. The girl who was the dream of many. Including his own.

“Why?”

You shrugged, a playful glint in your eyes as you leaned slightly closer. “Because you’re you, Kiyoomi. Cold, composed, and…” You paused, pretending to think. “Kind of scary sometimes.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, but the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement. “Scary?”

“You know what I mean.” You teased. “You’re just… untouchable. Like, you don’t even notice anyone half the time.”

Kiyoomi chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “I notice you.”

Your smile faltered for a second, replaced by something softer, something real. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He said. “You’ve always stood out to me. Even when I tried to act like you didn’t.”

You tilted your head, your expression thoughtful. “Why did you try to hide it?”

He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck as he glanced away for a moment. “Because… I didn't think I'd ever have a chance. I thought you were way out of my league.”

Your laugh was soft, light, and you reached out to gently take his hand. “Kiyoomi, you're ridiculous.”

“Am I?”

“Absolutely.” You said, patting his bicep lightly. “Because if you had just talked to me sooner, you'd know I've been trying to get your attention for ages.”

His eyes widened slightly, his lips parting as he tried to process your words. “You… what?”

You grinned, leaning in just enough that your noses almost touched. “I've always liked you, Kiyoomi. I just didn't think you'd ever notice.”

Kiyoomi stared at you, his heart pounding in his chest, before his lips quirked into a lopsided smile. “Guess we're both ridiculous, then.”

“Guess we are.” You murmured, and this time, it was you who closed the distance, your lips brushing his in a kiss so soft and sweet, the total opposite of the words that came out of your mouth next, “Now, please fuck me before I lose my mind.”

Of course he would, his mind and his cock couldn't hold back any longer.

“Just. Let. Me. Take– Take these off.” He said between kisses as you wouldn't let go, insisting on keeping his lips on yours with your palms on his cheeks.

Kiyoomi did his best to remove his jeans and underwear in one go without breaking the kiss, but in the end, he had to do so (albeit unwillingly), when the last of his clothes were on the floor and the two of you were completely naked, to say something he remembered at the last minute.

“I don't have a condom.”

This was bad, unfortunately Kiyoomi didn't carry any with him right now. The only one he used to carry in his wallet (just in case), he ended up giving it to Atsumu two weeks ago at a party, since at the time, the twin needed more than he did. Now he regretted it.

You looked at him for a moment, processing his words before saying, “I don't care if you don't care.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, astonishment radiating from his face.

“Very sure.”

Kiyoomi gulped before nodding, nervous about what was coming next.

He took his cock in his palm, giving himself a few gentle strokes before lining himself up with your entrance. Your hand went to the middle of your bodies to replace his hand with yours and he heard you gasp at the feel of his shaft.

“God, how— Kiyoomi, are you telling me you're a virgin with a dick like this?”

Kiyoomi couldn't help but let out a laugh, this was one of the things he liked most about you, how you spoke your mind bluntly.

“I guess so.”

“Well, I wanted you to put it in in one go. But I guess we'll have to go slow.” You teased, adjusting your hips as you continued to slowly stroke his dick.

Kiyoomi moaned as he felt your wet entrance meeting his leaking tip. He already felt in heaven and he wasn't even inside you yet.

He placed both of his arms beside your head, looking down at you as he slowly thrust his hips forward, moving deeper into you. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This felt so good. You felt so wet, so hot, so tight that he had to mentally beg his cock not to cum soon, he couldn't embarrass himself like that.

He pressed his lips against your forehead, kissing casually as he heard you moan as you took him in. “Does it hurt?” He asked, still with half of his dick out of you.

“A little.” You admitted and that worried Kiyoomi, who was about to pull out, but you spoke first. “But it feels so good, just keep going, it'll fade away.”

He nodded and continued to enter you until he was completely inside you. He had to press his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a moment at the new feeling he was experiencing.

“How does it feel?” He heard you ask after a minute, your sweet voice filling the silence where only your breaths could be heard.

“Too good. Fuck. I don't think I'll last long.” He admitted, somewhat embarrassed, but still eager for more. “Can I— fuck—can I move?”

“Yes, please.”

Slowly at first, he began to move his hips, enjoying the feel of your wet walls squeezing him. Kiyoomi couldn't believe he missed out on this pleasure for so long, but he was glad that the one he was experiencing it with for the first time was you.

He looked down at you, paying attention to your face and appreciating your expressions with adoration radiating from his eyes. How you bit your lower lip, how you opened your lips slightly, how you closed your eyes, how you smiled when you made eye contact.

You whispered in his ear to go faster, and without a second thought, he complied with your request. He slipped both of his arms under your armpits to hold on tighter and began to thrust so hard that even the bed began to hit the wall. Thank goodness there was a party going on downstairs and the sound of the bed along with the sound of your moans would not be heard by others.

“Kiyoomi…” You moaned his name, sounding like an angel as you did. Your hands went behind his back, holding him tightly against you and he even felt your nails digging lightly into his skin. He couldn't resist bringing your lips together again, kissing you sloppily as he moved in and out of you.

He felt you squeeze him as your moans increased before he brought one of his hands to the middle of your bodies, circling messily over your clit, bringing you to the edge. Your legs trembled and a cute moan left your mouth as you came. Kiyoomi also moaned against your lips, you squeezed him so deliciously that he was surprised he didn't explode at that moment, but he knew he wasn't far from it.

“I'm going to…” The words were lost in his throat as he felt his own orgasm so close. He was panting like crazy, holding you tighter against him as he settled his head in the crook of your neck and his thrusts became more intense.

“Don't pull out, please.”

His common sense told him that was irresponsible, but his desire along with how sexy it was to hear you say those words were stronger, because when he least realized it, he was cumming inside you— and it felt good, too good. Nothing compared to the orgasms his hand had so far provided. God, he might get addicted to you after this.

The room fell into a silence, where only your accelerated breathing and the music muffled by the door could be heard. You both refused to move for a few moments, enjoying the touch of your skin and the vital sounds of each other.

The dim light slipping through the windows painted faint shadows on the walls, highlighting the way your bodies pressed together. Your skin against his was warm, electric, like a spark neither of you wanted to break. Time felt like it slowed, stretching out as you both stayed perfectly still, caught in the pull of the moment. He could feel your heartbeat under his touch, steady and grounding, blending into the quiet rhythm of your breaths.

“So, how was it?” You broke the silence, stroking his back with your fingertips.

Kiyoomi couldn't help but let out a chuckle in the midst of his quickening breath, “Mind blowing.”

“I agree.”

Kiyoomi propped himself up on his forearms, his eyes meeting your adorable face, and he couldn't help but smile softly. He leaned down to press a quick, gentle kiss to your lips before settling down beside you. With an easy, natural motion, he slid a hand to your waist, pulling you closer to him. Now, with your head resting on his chest, he held you with the kind of tenderness that made the moment feel too perfect to let go of.

As the quiet rhythm of his breathing filled the room, Kiyoomi looked down at you, nestled against his chest. He absentmindedly traced gentle circles on your back with his fingers, his mind lingering on the softness of the moment. The warmth of your presence and the steady rhythm of your breathing calmed him, but his mind refused to settle.

He couldn't stop replaying the events of the night—the way your presence had lit up the room, the way you spoke with such ease and authenticity, and how natural it felt to be by your side. For someone who usually kept people at a distance, you had somehow bypassed every barrier he'd carefully built.

The thought made his chest tighten, but not with unease. With something new. Something he wanted to hold onto.

He glanced down at you, his heart catching at the way your eyelashes fluttered as you blinked sleepily. He knew moments like this didn't come often—not for him. And he knew it— he wanted more.

But would you want that, too?

The doubt lingered for only a second before he pushed it aside. Tonight had been proof enough that whatever this was, it was mutual. And if he didn't take a chance, he'd regret it.

Gathering his courage, he took a breath, his voice low and steady as he broke the silence.

“Hey.” He began, the faintest hint of shyness lacing his tone. “Do you have plans tomorrow?”

You smiled, your cheek still resting against his chest. “Not yet. Why?”

“I was thinking…” He hesitated for a beat, then pressed on. “Maybe we could go out. Just the two of us.”

Your eyebrows lifted slightly, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Are you asking me on a date, Sakusa Kiyoomi?”

“Yeah.” He said. “I want to take you somewhere nice. Anywhere you want.”

You reached up to brush a strand of hair from his face. “I'd love that.”

His lips curved into a small, genuine smile, relief flickering across his expression. “Good. I'll make it worth your while.”

“You already are.”

spoiler: sakusa didn’t know it yet, but atsumu will actually be the best man a few years later.

#𐀔 — mar wrote this.#— hq #— one shots #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa smut #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x you #sakusa x reader #msby smut #msby x reader #hq x you #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #kiyoomi smut

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gghostwriter · 6 months ago

Text

You’re the Risk, I’ll Take it

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

Summary: The three times Spencer followed advice and the one time he didn't (or as I'd like to better explain it, the three times Spencer fails to flirt and the one time it worked)

Warning: fluff! Just fluff!

A/n: I wanted to write something cute this time with Season 1 Spencer in mind--one of the best eras if you ask me. Hopefully I did him justice in this. The idea of this cute baby boy trying to flirt is too precious honestly. Also, if a guy did the last act for me, I'd fold like a lawn chair, yep. Risk by Gracie Abrams was on repeat while I was writing this and no proof reading was done. Let me know what you think!

Main masterlist

The first move Spencer tried was advised by Derek Morgan, the renowned ladies man

“Kid, admit it. You like her,” Morgan pestered him with a slight smile on his face.

Spencer scoffed, trying to throw him off from the truth but monumentally failing. “S-she’s my closest friend. We joined the team at the same time, of course I feel most comfortable with her,” he noted his companion’s eyebrows raising higher and higher with each word. “Plus, she likes hearing what I say even if it has no relation to the case. She asks me questions and genuinely remembers.”

Now it was Morgan’s turn to scoff. “You could be talking about Star Trek and it’s physics mistakes and she’ll still hang on to every word you say.”

“Actually, there aren’t that many scientific errors in Star Trek. Especially considering—”

“Reid.”

“Right,” he nodded once, trying to push away the urge to continue further. “That still doesn’t mean I like her.”

Morgan tapped the wheel twice before turning to face his partner. “Then answer me this. How do you feel when she walks through the office doors?”

“Happy, I get the same feeling when I see you or Elle come in too,” he found his fingers very interesting then. Like they held the key to unlocking the mysteries of Dark Matter and the answer to the controversial scientific theory ‘Do parallel universe exist?’. He wasn’t telling the whole truth—didn’t want to because how could he, a man of science, explain the other bodily reactions he has when you walk in a room. How he hears his heart stutter in his chest with just a glimpse of you—the first time it happened, he thought nothing of it, but by the third, he considered making an appointment with a specialist for possible heart arrhythmia. How he sees the room brighten when you smile in his direction—perhaps light sensitivity, and how he feels his body heat up when you utter the words ‘Good morning, Spence.’—possibly hot flashes. Self diagnosis that he ruled out once he found you to be the common denominator. That left him with a riddle, a personal conundrum he lost countless of sleep over trying to solve.

“That’s a lie, Reid. You can’t be that happy to see me. You never blush like a tomato when I enter the room. For Greenaway, I could see it but for me, nu-uh,” he argued back. “Okay, what about when she’s not there, what do you feel then?”

“Sad, similar to how I’d react with you and Elle,” he blurted out another half truth. Another surface level answer that doesn’t fully cover how lost he feels without your comforting presence beside him, how gloomy any room he enters in without you in it, and how incomplete his days were without hearing your voice.

Morgan snickered. “Lies, you have to learn how to lie better to fool an FBI profiler, Reid. You don’t think I—the team, notice that you’re quieter when she isn’t on the case with us?”

“Wait. Wait, the whole team?” His voice goes up an octave. You were part of the team, did that mean you knew of the effect you had on him too? “D-Does everyone have the same idea as you do? Everyone?”

“Not everyone, kid. Your secret is still safe,” He smiled wide like a cat that caught the canary. “So it’s true then, you like her.”

Spencer knew there was no escape from trap, he was just glad that his secret still remained classified from the other party involved. His shoulders sagged as he nodded to confirm Morgan’s findings.

“So what’s your play then?”

His head whipped to face his companion so fast he felt his meticulously styled hair escape the confines of his ears. “Play? There’s no play. Nothing. I’m not going to do anything and this conversation stays between us.”

“Oh c’mon lover boy, you have to do something,” Morgan challenged. “Y’know she likes you back, right?”

“No she doesn’t! I mean, why would she?” Spencer rambled on, unable to comprehend what Morgan was saying. “She’s her—beautiful, smart, and cool. Every case we get, there’s at least one police officer hitting on her. And I’m me—I talk too much and get awkward in every situation. The exact opposite!”

“Reid, don’t sell yourself short. She likes you, trust me on this.” He paused, listening to the update on the intercom before continuing on. “So here’s what you’re going to do. Compliment her outfit, girls appreciate that. Easy enough, don’t you think?”

Spencer really didn’t think so after all he had the tendency to go off on a tangent whenever he talks to you but he agrees nonetheless. If Morgan believes he could do it then he couldn’t mess it up, right?

———

Wrong. It was wrong to take Morgan’s advice. Never mind he can recall everything he has ever read, never mind he has an IQ of 187. What good were his talents if he, Dr. Spencer Reid, couldn’t string the proper sentences along?

It started when you walked into the office wearing this light yellow blouse that made you more radiant than he thought possible. It was as if the a ray of sun had graced the bullpen and stunned his mind into silence, rendering him tongue-tied. All his monologues and hypothesis bouncing around his overactive brain fell away and the only thing he could think of was how pretty you look.

Morgan cleared his throat, bringing him back to the living. Spencer averted his awestruck gaze and busied himself with an imaginary lint on his red sweater.

“Hey Y/N, did anything good this weekend?” Morgan asked as you settled into your desk adjacent to his.

You shrugged nonchalantly and teased back. “I bet it wasn’t good as yours, Morgan. Picked anyone up last Friday or are your charms no longer working?”

“Huh, i see where this is going. Somebody woke up on the wrong side of bed today.”

Morgan chanced a peek at Spencer and internally groaned. How you didn’t notice the kid’s crush on you was beyond him—all the staring and blushing he does when you’re near was a dead giveaway.

“Reid. Reid,” Morgan called out.

He closed his mouth and gulped. “Hm, what?”

Morgan pointedly stared at him and titled his head towards your direction. A movement lost to you as you noted Elle leaving Gideon’s office.

Spencer opened his mouth to catch your attention but before he could even utter your name, Elle intervened. “Question for you, the foot path killer. Why’d he stutter?”

You swiveled to face her, not having caught Spencer’s intent to speak to you. The unit chief then called them in for a case—an arson case in a university campus. His shoulders drooped as they rushed to the jet afterwards with no chance of small talk.

When there was a lull in the plane—case discussion finished, he steeled his already apprehensive nerves and took the chance, quickly wishing he hadn’t.

“S-so, your shirt’s yellow,” he stated out loud like it was some sort of revelation.

“Yes,” you drawled out, unsure as to where he was going with this. “That’s right, Spencer.”

He drummed his fingers on the table and continued on. “Did you know that airplanes tend to avoid the color yellow as it causes dizziness and nausea? A number of studies have shown those exact results and that’s why it’s almost never used in interiors of various forms of transportation and rarely use in advertising. It’s like how the red is the most common color used by restaurants as it psychologically makes the viewer hungry.”

You looked down on your top. Yellow was one of your favorites and you specifically chose this as Penelope said and you quote, it looks good on you, brings out your eyes. Boy genius would probably react to it too so naively you splurged on it. But this—this wasn’t the response you were hoping for. “Spence, are you saying my shirt is making you feel nauseous?”

He blushed and stammered out a strong refusal. “What, no! No! I—I meant to say—you, you look nice.”

You giggled under your breath, finding his long-winded route to giving you a compliment cute. “Nice nice or airsickness nice?”

“Nice! Just nice!” He defended on, his voice cracking at the end. He caught Morgan’s wide eyed gaze then as if he couldn’t believe what train wreck he just witnessed.

Cheeks heating up further, Spencer slouched in his seat and busied himself with the files wishing that he could build a memory eraser so he could wipe the events from his and the team’s minds or better yet, a time machine to redo the whole thing all over again.

The second move Spencer tried was advised by Elle Greenaway, the new recruit

“Do you think it’s weird that I knew that ballad?” He questioned during one of their cases in San Diego. It bothered him since the start of the case. How Morgan had teased him about his incapability of asking out the opposite sex. Never mind that you defended him right back, that’s a lie, it made him feel special that you did but the joke was still true. A cold stone truth.

Elle laughed, flipping her phone repeatedly on the table while waiting for the unsub to take the bait. “I don’t know how you know half the stuff you know, but I’m glad you do.”

“Do you think that’s why I can’t get a date?” He asked as he fiddled with the unfinished Rubik’s cube in his hands.

“Have you ever asked her out?”

There was no need to ask who Elle was referring to, everyone knew of his innocent—well maybe not so innocent at times specifically during his state of dreaming—crush for the second youngest member of the team. He shifted his eyes to focus a few tables before his—at you, sitting beside JJ. “No."

“That’s why you can’t get a date.”

One of the precincts phone then rang, it was the unsub, causing him to table that conversation in his vast memory.

———

There’s an English saying that states ‘the second time is the charm’ and Spencer was hoping there were some truth to the idiom even with no scientific explanation to back it up.

A few cases after San Diego, he got an opening that he was unexpectedly looking for. The team was on their way back from a case in Virginia. It was late and the profilers were all tucked in their little corners of the jet decompressing while you and Spencer were huddled on the sofa quietly discussing Doctor Who.

“How could you say your favorite is the Ninth Doctor when you haven’t even seen the older episodes?” He rambled, clearly he would have to do something about your limited knowledge in the great universe of Doctor Who. He’d like to explain it all, 695 episodes of the classic era to you. He’d take any topic really just to have your interest.

You stared into his hazel speckled eyes and smiled, amused by his reaction. “It’s a bit hard to catch up on a show that’s been around since the 70s. Plus, it’s a challenge to look for copies.”

“Actually, the show started in the 60s—1963, to be exact,” he clarified. “Garcia has copies we could borrow and watch together. If that’s—” he cleared his throat and clenched his fists closed, feeling his nails dig into his palms. “—that’s alright with you. If—if not, there’s a convention happening this weekend. I have an extra ticket, if you want to come with—only if you’re not busy, I mean.”

“And risk you spoiling every episode to me? I’d rather watch it alone, if you don’t mind.”

That dragged his optimism to a crash as if a twenty ton weight landed on his chest, rendering him immovable. Of course you were going to say no. There was no proof that you’d reciprocate his interests—he inwardly cursed himself for believing otherwise.

“But, I’d like to go with you to the convention,” you said and silently added as your date to yourself, shifting in your seat with a blush blooming on your cheeks at the thought. “Always wanted to go to one. If you’re fine with me not being in a costume. I think it’ll be too late to find one, don’t you think?”

Just like that, the weight on his chest lifted, making him feel weightless with glee. A wide smile grew on his face, threatening to burst his cheeks as he shook his head. “That’s alright! But you—you can always dress up as Rose!”

You titled your head to the side. “Rose?”

“You know, the Ninth Doctor’s companion?”

“I know who she is, Spence. I just thought you didn’t watch the revived series?”

He softly scoffed. “I never said that! I watched it too, mainly to compare it to the classics but I’ve seen it.”

You leaned in, wanting to ask about his opinion on it. ��Well, what do you think? I happen to be part of the minority who think the actor who reprised the role did alright.”

He liked seeing you like this. It made him feel like a puppy who had his owner’s undivided attention. All wide eyed and interested in his conjectures as to why the actor was alright himself but the problems were his short stint—making people vilify him over that decision—and the material some of the writers came up with. He appreciated you nodding along and supplying your own thoughts on the subject. It warmed his heart that here was a beautiful, smart, and cool person—way out of his league, he might add—giving her precious time away to discuss a nerdy sci-fi show that he could not rant and rave to about to anyone on the team, except for Penelope, and she’s rarely on the field with them.

Your show of interest made him feel seen. Not as an agent with 3 PHDs, not as a genius with 187 IQ, but rather as a person with a right to express himself and occupy space. He wasn’t Agent Spencer Reid with you nor Dr. Spencer Reid, he was just Spencer who likes to watch Doctor Who and read literature in their original language.

The third move Spencer did was proposed by Penelope Garcia, the spirited tech analyst

“What do you mean you took her to a convention? For a date?” Penelope squeaked out, unable to comprehend the logic behind the genius’ actions.

“She said she always wanted to go,” Spencer stated as the elevator stopped on the fourth floor. He had fun over the weekend. Going around booths with you, listening to invited guest panels talk about the behind the scenes, explaining the reference every costume that you’ve pointed out, and just basking in your presence beyond cases. It was a memory he had replayed over and over after it had ended. It occupied his whole mind, and that’s saying a lot, causing him to do nothing and sit in his leather sofa and smile like a lunatic during the rest of the weekend.

“Well yeah, but that’s not date material! A date is supposed to be intimate—you and I go to conventions together, do you count that as a date?”

“What? No! No, of course not!”

“Exactly, boy wonder. Then what makes you think she’ll count that as a date?” She countered back as she entered her office with Spencer in tow.

Silence. Oh.

Penelope sighed, having read the despair painting his face. “Did you at least dress up as the Ninth Doctor?”

“What? No. No, I went as the Fourth Doctor. I even hand-knitted the scarf myself.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before repeating what she just heard. “You didn’t dress up as her Doctor?”

“No,” he paused, unsure where she was going with this. “Should I had?”

“Yes! Yes, you should have!” Penelope slapped his arm out of frustration. “Why didn’t you call me once she said yes? We could have talked game plan or strategy or at least have gotten you a leather jacket to match her choice of companion.”

“Oh, I messed up then, didn’t I?” He slumped despondently on the office chair. “You—you don’t think she thought of it as a date at all?”

She played with her feathered pen, trying to find a way to salvage it for Spencer. “Did you take her out to dinner after?”

He shook his head, finally realizing his mistake.

“Oh Spencer,” she approached gently. “I can scoop for details with Y/N later on and report back to you?”

He shook his head. It didn’t feel right to have Penelope betray your trust and go behind your back over a mistake that he made. You were a honest person and you deserved to be treated with respect and reverence even though all he wanted now was peer into your viewpoint of the date—not date—and figure out once and for all if you saw him as anything beyond a co-worker and a friend.

“Hm, I think I might just a solution,” Penelope blurted out of the blue.

He looked up with a sliver of hope blooming in his chest. Maybe third time’s the charm. Besides, Penelope was the colleague you spent most of your time out with. You once mentioned that you considered her your best friend, besides from him of course.

“You can bake her a batch of cookies! No one can say no to that,” she excitedly explained, believing it to be full proof—except for the fact that he doesn’t know how to bake. He wants to ask you out on a date but not to the expense of burning his whole apartment building down.

“I can’t—I can’t bake, Garcia,” he squeaked out. “Did you know that 44% of all reported home fires are caused by cooking and baking. Those fires have resulted in an average of 470 civilian deaths and 4,150 civilian—”

She interrupted. “I’ll give you my recipe and detailed instructions to follow. That’ll make it easy peasy for you, boy genius.”

“C-can’t I just buy from her favorite bakery instead?”

“No can do, Doctor. Her favorite cookies just so happen to be my creation. She told me so herself.”

“Well, can’t I just ask you to make it for me? I’ll buy the ingredients!”

“Nope,” she dragged out her refusal. “Think of it as an act of service to her. Plus don’t you think it’s highly romantic when she finds out that you baked them yourself?” She swooned just thinking about it.

“Romantic? It won’t be romantic when I burn my apartment down, Garcia.”

She sighed. “Fine, I’ll supervise if you want. This weekend, granted if we’re free. But you—” she pointed her feathered pen at him. “—better be prepared and I’m just supervising, okay? I’m not baking it myself.”

He sighed. At least having Garcia around would make it easier.

———-

It did not in fact make it easier. Spencer burnt two batches before six pieces were considered edible. Garcia couldn’t understand, hell, he also couldn’t. Baking was precise and from his scientific viewpoint, it was a lot like chemistry. He loved science and anything academic, so how is it that he failed miserably, twice, when it came to baking?

He shook his head as he entered the office. The first one—he stole a glance at Hotch’s office and saw movement—correction, the second one arriving early. Sometimes he wondered if the unit chief ever goes home, first in and last out.

He settled in his seat before promptly fidgeting from anticipation. Statistically speaking, you arrive earlier than Morgan or Elle which gave him enough time to gift the paper bag of cookies sitting hidden in his satchel without bringing attention to and embarrassing himself. He’d like to have little to no audience if he ever does mess it up for the third time.

He brought out the cookies, afraid they’ll get crushed between his hardbound books, and placed them on your desk before standing to wash his clammy hands and make coffee. Counter intuitive of him to do as he was already a bundle of nerves and by drinking caffeine he was doubling that but maybe the smell would calm him before shooting up his energy by drinking.

As he exited the mens room, Penelope stepped out of the elevator and squealed. “Is she here? Is she? Did I miss it?”

He shook his head vigorously, trying to silence her excited glees. “No, she’s not here yet. She’ll—” he looked at his watch and ran the numbers. “—be here soon. I’m about to brew coffee. Do you want some?” He opened the door for both of them to enter the bullpen.

“Ick, no thanks,” Penelope said, scrunching her nose at the thought of drinking even a sip before scurrying away to her cave. “I’d rather not ruin my taste buds on bad coffee.”

He laughed and turned towards the kitchenette. With the coffee brewing, he drummed his fingers on the counter and mentally rehearsed what he would say to you. If he practiced, there’s less chance of messing it up like the first time, right? In his state of concentration, he missed you entering the office in all of your beautiful glory.

“Ooh cookies!” you exclaimed as you opened the unknown package on your table.

Spencer abruptly turned, hitting his side on the corners as he did. His eyes widened as he registered you holding the unsigned paper bag of treats on your desk.

“They must be from Penny,” You continued on, oblivious to his presence and the devastation your remark caused him. Of course, he’d find another way to mess it up. You glanced around and your smile widened as you took in his handsome presence. “Oh hey Spence! Look, Penny made me cookies!” You tip-toed out of excitement.

He smiled at your enthusiasm for something as simple as treats in the morning. The giggle you gave out as you entered the kitchenette was enough for him to slightly care less for the truth. He loved bringing out the happiness in you. It was like his own personal sunshine shining down on him, soaking him with vitamin D and boosting his overall sense of wellbeing. “Do you want coffee with that? It’s still hot,” he offered.

You tapped the side of your hips with his as a sign of good will. “Thanks, Spence! This is turning out to be a great day, don’t you think?”

He watched as you busied yourself with putting cream and sugar in your of cup and sighed wistfully. “I think so too.”

And the last move Spencer did was recommended by no one but himself, the awkward 187 genius

With all three acts not delivering, he promised to try one last time without any outside interference besides from yours in his memory. You always did tell him to be himself in any situation, no matter how much he stumbled through any awkward situation—always there giving him a pat on the back for encouragement.

Over the weekend, he spent his time reading two of your favorite books—which didn’t take much but he did read them again and again, regardless of his eidetic memory, trying to understand why these specific books were your comfort. Always pushed within the confines of your go bag, dog-eared and brown from age. He wanted to know how they’ve become an extension of you and how it had shaped you to the woman he has fallen in love with.

He found himself hunched over his dining table, underlining sentences that made him think of you, scribbling away on the margins (and sometimes on post its too), and tabbing the written pages with a variety of colors that each represent an emotion. The act in it of itself made him feel closer to you than he thought possible. Lines in the books that made him think, ah so this was what formed your kind spirit. This is why your empathy knew no bounds. And this is why your beauty is inside and out.

Spencer laid down to rest, anxious for the next day, Monday, to come. His heart threatening to beat out of his chest but his mind oddly calm as if it had a precognition that everything would turn out just right.

———

You arrived earlier than he did, throwing him off balance.

“Hey Spence!” You greeted with a smile. “I got you a croissant and some coffee from that shop near my place.”

He blushed and stammered out a thank you. You were wearing a deep purple blouse that matched the scarf around his neck—the birthday gift you’ve given. He was no believer of the mystics but he took all of these as a sign from the stars. There was no way he would mess this up now.

“I—I got you something too,” he looked inside his satchel, hands shaking from it all. Gods, he wished this would go well or else, he might just die from embarrassment. “It’s nothing much but—I read your two favorite books and just—I wanted to discuss it with you,” he brought out the tabbed copies and presented them to you. “These are for you. I know you have copies of your own but I-I put my own notes on which lines reminded me of you.”

Your face turned red at the notion behind it all. Here was the BAU genius, the certified lover of the classics and the academia, the man who had your affections since day one, reading two contemporary literatures just for him to present you a gift like no other. You reached out and hugged the precious copies to your chest.

“Thank you, no one’s ever done this for me before,” you breathed out, falling deeper into attraction with the perfection in front of you. “ Hey Spence, I may sound delusional asking this and you can say no if you want to but—” you visibly gulped, unaware of the audience nearby. “—would you like to have dinner with me? I make a mean lasagna.”

He turned red and vigorously nodded. “Y-Yes. Yes, I’d love to have dinner with you.”

You giggled, sounding like wind chimes to his ears. He did too, giggle I mean, from the triumph of finally knowing that his feelings were willingly reciprocated.

“Finally, you love birds!” Morgan shouted as he swung his arm around Spencer. “Didn’t know how much we could take from this pretty boy—” pointing at him “asking for advice and you—” pointing at you “—pretty girl is as dense as a rock. Tell me again how’d you end up as profiler with those observation skills.”

A hand whacked him at the back. “Way to ruin the moment, Morgan.” Elle chided before turning to Spencer with a smile. “See told you, you could get a date.”

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #gw fics

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damiansgoodgirll · 2 months ago

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Hiiii!! I hope you’re doing amazing! I’m sorry you’re having a bit of writers block at the moment as I know how difficult that can be!! I saw you opened your requests to see if that would help so I figured I would request something!

Maybe Rhea x Reader, where Reader is also a wrestler and her aesthetic is super girly and cute and bubbly (kinda like Tiffany Stratton) and something about it just draws Rhea in. Like she tried to act like she hates it and doesn’t like Reader, but eventually she just can’t and caves to how adorable Reader is and it brings out Rhea’s sweet side! 🩷

rhea ripley x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️nothing major, rhea’s sexual thoughts tho…a lot of fluff and sweet moments, reader being a tease (let’s pretend rhea is still champion here) ‼️

heartbeat

rhea hated when someone tried to take her title away. but she hated even more when you became her main opponent for a title run.

you and the dark haired woman were completely the opposite. you were a face, she was a heel. you wore pink, she wore black. you were kind and loved backstage, she was a menace with anyone who dared to even look into her eyes.

she hated the idea of having to fight with you. she already handled a liv morgan, a tiffany stratton and now she had to face you.

she absolutely despised having you as her main opponent and no matter how many times she tried to resonate with adam, he said that you deserved that title run more than anyone. and she knew it too. she observed you. you were good, you were smart, you worked more on psychological fights than physical fights and for the first time, rhea was afraid.

you and her never really talked outside of the company. she wasn’t in your group and you weren’t in hers.

so the first time you got to share a few words was when you two had a promo and even if rhea looked so intimidating, you were ready for a challenge and you showed her who you really were.

“so you think you can take my title?” she shouted into the mic, staring at you. she looked for something that could have scared you away but she find nothing.

you simply laughed, taking a few steps forward her “i’m damn sure i can” you stated making the crowd cheer.

she was ready to reply back. she was so ready to put you in place but having you so close to her made her freeze. your vanilla scent intoxicating her. your challenging eyes never leaving her face. something about you made her even more interested into this feud. you made her heart beat fast and she couldn’t understand why.

“cat got your tongue, mami?” you teased her, hearing even more chants from the crowd.

“stay out of my way” she said coldly before dropping the mic to the ground and leaving the ring.

as days passed, rhea moved cautiously around you. observing you at the gym, observing the way your body moved inside the ring as you trained. she couldn’t help the filthy thoughts running in her head when she saw the sweat dripping down your body.

watching you fight other opponents and she hated admitting it but she found you extremely attractive. she never imagined herself being attracted by some barbie doll prototype but here she was.

you, flaunting your pink gear, your perfect make up and curled hair, ready to fight liv morgan - once again.

you knew it was going to be an easy match. you fought liv multiple times and you always won but somehow it didn’t go exactly as you planned. sure, you got your win but liv managed to injury you.

rhea watched all the match behind the scenes and a lump form in her throat.

how the heck did liv manage to injury you? she was supposed to keep you safe inside the ring just like you did with her and instead she fucked up and probably costed you a title run.

she should be happy that you weren’t her opponent any longer but she was actually looking for a chance to fight you.

you struggled walking back, helped by some trainers, they let you sit comfortably in the medical area as a doctor checked upon on you.

sprained ankle.

a couple of weeks of no fighting, no training at the gym and no title run opportunity. this was definitely not what you were expecting.

as you slowly walked back to the locker room, you were stopped by the infamous rhea ripley.

“hey…” she greeted you, making you look at her with a confused expression.

“i’m out of your way now, are you happy?” you sarcastically asked her but you saw how serious she was.

“no, not really…i was really looking forward to fight you, can’t believe im stuck again with that mid morgan girl” she said, clearly mad.

her words made you laugh “it won’t be for too long, give me a month to recover and then i’ll happily pin you down the floor” you teased, seeing her blush.

her strong facade fell when you talked dirty to her. she felt her cheeks burn but she tried to keep up with you “i can’t wait for that moment to come then…”

you were absolutely in for whatever rhea was trying to do with you “challenge accepted then, see you in a month” you winked but as soon as you tried to walk again, a sharp pain rang through your foot, making you flinch a little.

“hey, you okay?” rhea immediately asked when she saw the pain expression in your eyes.

“i have to get used to walk with just one foot” you laughed.

“here, let me help you…” her hand softly moved around your hip, helping you back to the locker room so you could gather your belongings and then go straight to the hotel. she walked slowly, never forcing you or your body.

“i didn’t know rhea was a kind one” you joked, making her laugh.

“i’m not. i never liked you y/n…this bubbly energetic person you are, i always hated it…too much pink, too much kindness” she whispered.

“why is it in the past?”

“because somehow your annoying personality caught my attention” she confessed, making you look at her with a teasing face.

“that’s good to keep in mind next time i’m facing you in the ring…” you said making her roll her eyes.

once you got to the locker room, rhea packed all of your stuff. your make up, your clothes, your perfume - the vanilla perfume - and she took the bag over her shoulder.

“do you need a ride to the hotel?” she offered and you couldn’t turn her offer down so you agreed.

as you were settled in her car, you found her to be a comforting presence. maybe she really wasn’t the mean one everyone talked about.

before you could speak, metal songs blasted through the speakers and it took you a couple of minutes to realise that you and rhea couldn’t be more different “do you really listen to that?” you asked, a little confused.

“yeah…it’s amazing” she happily said as she drove.

“it’s giving me a headache” you complained, making her roll her eyes for the second time that night.

“what do you listen uh? let me guess? taylor swift?” she said almost too annoyed.

“hey! she’s a good artist! and no, i listen other people too! i listen to people who actually make music and not scream into a microphone for three minutes straight” oh you were so in for a tease right now and seeing how she scrunched her nose made you feel like you were hitting the right buttons.

“let’s not start or i’ll drop you here in the middle of the road” she joked, clearly amused by the whole situation. you ended up sitting there and watching her driving fast around town.

she helped you with the bags and only left your hotel room once she made sure that you were okay. she even left you her phone number so you could call her in case something happened - as she said.

a week has passed and you couldn’t even lie to yourself - you were actually enjoying texting rhea and having random conversations in the middle of the night with her. you remember texting her once you got home and asked her if she wanted to come over as you were bored and reluctantly she accepted.

she would be lying to herself but you attracted her. you were like a magnet and she couldn’t get enough of you. she would help you any time you asked her.

randomly going through your tiktok, you heard the bell ringing and without thinking twice, you slowly got up and opened the door, finding an adorable rhea ripley with junk food in one hand and a pink fluffy blanket in the other.

you looked at her for a second, too stunned to speak.

“you letting me in or are we going to stare at each other all day long?” she asked, her usual sarcastic tone lingering with some sneaky jokes too.

“oh sorry, yeah, come in…i wasn’t expecting you with food and a pink blanket…i actually wasn’t expecting you at all” you joked, trying to ease the tension a little bit because you had no idea why was rhea in your living room now.

“i was at the supermarket and i had my day off, i saw the blanket and i thought you would like it…here” she handed you the blanket almost as she was annoyed by it, trying to maintain her dark and mean side but deep down you knew that she was a softie.

you gladly accepted the gift and invited her to sit on the couch with you “what about the food?” you teased her, seeing her rolling her eyes at any remark you made was now a habit.

“i was hungry and i thought you would like some food too…” she tried so hard not to go soft with you but your smile and bubbly personality were making it hard for her.

“rhea ripley thought of me? i feel honoured” you laughed making her giggle.

“shut up and eat while i pick a movie…” she stated as she started swiping movies catalogue on netflix.

she chose something fun, something romantic, knowing that it was your favourite genre of film.

“i’m pretty sure you’re studying me so in two weeks you know how to make me lose against you for the title run” you joked, making her laugh.

“honey, there’s no way you’re gonna beat my ass during that run, that’s my title and my title only but i’ll happily pin you down” she turned her face to you, a sneaky smirk on her face as her mind fantasised about the idea of having to pin you down, under her body.

“you so sure about that ripley?” you tested her “what if i am the one to pin you down?

rhea wouldn’t mind having you over her to be honest. in any other situation she would have let you being in charge but not when there was her title on the line.

“we will see in a couple of weeks” she winked “now watch the movie before i put some freaky horror on” she teased you knowing how much you hated horror movies.

“okay mami” you whispered making her roll her eyes - again. you displayed the pink blanket over your body and over rhea’s body too “before you say anything, it’s cold outside and i don’t wanna hear you complain for the next two hours” but rhea definitely wasn’t going to complain. she never had you so close, your body was like a magnet and was so close to hers that it was enough to keep her warm. your head softly laid over her shoulder and even if you couldn’t see her, you felt her body relax against you.

maybe she was going to pin you in the ring but you knew who was really in charge outside of the company and seeing her so calm and relaxed in your presence made you feel something different about your friendship, as if there was something more but you couldn’t really point it out.

spending the rest of the night in each other’s company, joking and laughing about the smallest things.

as the second movie of the night ended, you really needed to stretch yourself out as you grew a little uncomfortable sitting for almost four hours in the same position. she helped you standing up and you slowly tested the water, instead of putting your hands around her shoulders as you always did, you put them around her waist.

the height difference between you two was pretty obvious but that didn’t stop you to have your way with her “i have a feeling you feel something for me” you teased her watching her in her eyes.

“i don’t know what you are talking about…” she tried so hard to maintain her composure but she was struggling, especially when she had you so close.

“so what if i asked you to kiss me? would you back up?” you always been a tease but this was something else even for you.

“no…” she whispered, her eyes softly looking down at you.

before she could make any move, you kissed her. your lips meeting her soft ones, a smile pressed on her face as you kept kissing her “i’m definitely gonna pin you rhea” you whispered, making her chuckle.

“keep dreaming barbie” as she grew more comfortable, her hand moved behind your back and pressed you against her body “remember, it’s always monday night mami…” her devious look was back as if you helped her gain her confidence back around you.

“you know…i’m always in for a challenge…”

yeah, maybe she was the rhea ripley but you knew how good you were and being able to tease her and make her so flustered around you was definitely a weapon in your sleeve.

“we will see pretty girl…” falling in love with the enemy wasn’t definitely her plan but somehow you managed to make her heart beat faster anytime you were close and now she felt like she couldn’t get enough of you.

————————————-

i’m receiving a few requests and i’m trying to overcome my writer block 🤞🏼🩷 thank you for your patience and kind words 🩷🩷

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cheriladycl01 · 2 months ago

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Kinktober 21/10/2024 Lando Norris - Cockwarming

Plot: Clingy Lando will do absolutely anything to feel close to you, even when he’s streaming.

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, dry humping, Cockwarming, p in v etc 18+ Minors DNI

You get home after a long gruelling day of modelling for Calvin Klein, you were in and out of a super cold dressing room infront of the hot lights and camera and you were exhausted and really just wanted a massive cuddle from you boyfriend.

However, once you got further into yours and Landos apartment you could hear the sound the familiar sound of your boyfriends laughter and his loud voice shouting the apartment down. You were happy Lando had the money to soundproof the outer walls but the whole apartment you could hear everything through, which made steam by night when friends where staying over a bit of an issue for you, Lando of course never cared and was happy to show all his friends how well he treated you.

From the short conversation you could hear before he got to the door you could make out that he was streaming with Ginge and Max. You knock on the door pretty loudly and things go quiet until you hear the roll of his chair wheels and the padding of his feet.

“Ahhhh baby, you’re back! How was your day?” He says kissing your head before pulling you back to look at you. And immediately a frown comes over his face when he sees yours.

It was one thing you loved and hated about your boyfriend. He could read you like a book and he always knew when something was wrong.

“What’s wrong, what happened?” He asks sorry evident in his tone.

“Nothing, just a long day. Pretty tired and I just wanna be with you” you say softly smiling at him shyly.

“Come in and sit with me then. You can talk to Ginge and Max too” he offers and you shake your head. You didn’t really feel like socialising with anyone but Lando, you were too exhausted from all the people and the hustle and bustle they had caused at the studio today.

“Don’t wanna see anyone, just you. I don’t wanna be on camera either. Just wanna be close to you right now” you admit with a sigh and he nods. He holds his finger up to indicate to wait there and he comes back only 20 seconds later.

“I turned the camera off and you don’t have to speak to anyone. You can just sit in my lap yeah?” He asks with a smile and you nod, a smile finally gracing yours. You walk in with him seeing his game is paused on one monitor and chat going so quickly you can hardly see what people are saying just catching a few

Camera gone? 🥹

What happened? 🙁

Where did bob go?

He takes a seat in his chair and pats his lap, you join him sitting on his lap, facing the desk watching his monitor as his arms comes round either side of you to reach mouse and keyboard.

“WHERE ARE YOU” you can hear Ginge’s voice through the headphones making you stifle a laugh. Lando unmutes and kisses your shoulder.

“Sorry, Y/N came home and she’s had a bit of a bad day guys and she wanted to come sit with me” Lando explains chat starting to floods with your names and various comments of asking to put the ‘pretty woman’ which is apparently you, on screen for them too see.

“No chat. She’s not feeling her best today, so she’s just sitting with me until I’ve finished for the day. So you all need to behave” he explains and chat floods with nice and kind messages for you telling you to get better and hope you have a better day tomorrow which you know you will as you and Lando will have you ‘rot day’ as you both like to call it.

Eventually it gets too hard sitting in Landos lap normally, your hair was in the way of your arms were pushing him back in the chair and so he asked you to spin round so that you were straddling him.

You straddle his lap leaning into him, so your head was laying in the crevice of his neck and shoulder and just listen to him stream. You always loved his voice it was so flaming to you.

Eventually you start to get a little needy. Whether it was because you hadn’t seen him in so long or it was the way you were straddling him. And you knew it was bad, so bad but you couldn’t help it when you shifted forward and heard a small little groan from him. It was a natural one that could have been put off a him getting annoyed with the game. So you tested it again.

And again and again, working yourself up.

He just smiles at you, watching your movement. And you wanted more of a reaction from him, you needed him and you wanted to feel closer to him. Skin to skin contact was something both you and Lando loved and right now there was too much in the way for that.

You continue going in at a better angle and he nearly moans but covers it with a cough, that was suspicious and before he can get away with it of course Ginge queries it, having been present to yours and Landos clinginess in person.

He explain that he just had something caught in his throat just as he died which everyone seems to believe. He mutes his mic, trying to look at you with a teasing look on his face.

“Be a good girl okay? If you want to be closer for it, go for it but no noise okay and you stay still until I say so” he says and you nod, a happy grin on your face.

You slip his cock out, pulling your own panties to the side before you sink down onto him, your thighs burning at first from holding you up at this angle but once you finally bottom out a sigh of relief comes from you.

Lando shifts only once to help himself get into a comfort position knowing he’s in this for the long run and that he’ll be like this for a while longer before he unmutes and goes back to talking to his friends and playing his game.

The feeling of his cock inside you, just sitting there makes you incredibly happy. You can’t even describe that close feeling you get. You and Lando actually loved to cockwarm. Whenever you were home watching a movie and cuddling his dick would just happen to slip inside you and stay there until the credits rolled. Or like now when he was streaming… it was just something so pleasurable and nice that didn’t require any effort at all.

You could feel every crevice and vein that was against your walls. Your head remained in the crevice of his neck while you stay sat still in his lap, breathing in and out slowly. Your breathing regulates and eventually you fall asleep on top of him.

As far as Cockwarming had gone you usually had some kind of entertainment and you weren’t this tired and so you never had actually fallen asleep with Lando where he was inside you. Moving every now and then when he got a kill and he celebrated, a hand coming onto your bum as he lurched forward with a cheer of glory.

In your soft slumber you can barley hear him having fun with his friends your just letting the day escape from your mind and being in the arms of your favourite person.

You wake up as a forceful jolt sends Landos dick up into you, hitting that soft spongey place you liked a groaned moan coming from you.

“Ah oop that the princess awake. I’m going to have to cut it here guys as I think it’s time for dinner” he says as he ends the stream, leaves discord and shuts of his PC all while you wake up.

“Wanna take this to the bedroom sweetheart?” He asks and you nod, wanting to feel him immediately.

And let’s just say, that night ended much better than you’d anticipated.

Taglist:

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thelostconsultant · 4 months ago

Text

Puppy love

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: During his karting days, you were one of his opponents, but outside the track he was just a stupid boy who fell in love with a pretty girl. Now, after all those years, you meet again in the paddock, and he doesn't want you to leave.

note: Yes, Jos is an asshole in this (too).

“Have you seen who jumped in to do the interviews?” Charles asked with a wicked smile when he stopped next to his rival after the race. Max hadn’t really paid attention to these details until now, but now that he was informed there was something he should probably know, he looked around to see where the reporter was. “I haven’t talked to her since your dad ruined her career. But she seems truly happy now.”

That’s when his eyes fell on you, the girl who had been haunting him in his dreams for long years, the one who was glowing while talking to the cameraman. He wanted to object, he wanted to say “my dad didn’t ruin her career, she just decided to quit,” but the way you had left certainly hinted at a possible connection between the two events. Because his father’s outburst took place a week before he found out you weren’t coming back to race, and you didn’t even try to contact him ever again.

What made it real hard was the fact he knew you were left heartbroken, and it wasn’t racing that you missed. His mother called your parents to ask them about you, and they said you had been crying in your room for days, but when the option for a call from Max came up, they were quick to shut it down. They said it would be easier for you to move on if he didn’t show up in your life again, and he couldn’t help but blame himself for everything that happened.

If he hadn’t fallen in love with you, if he hadn’t met you on a vacation, if his father hadn’t found out he loved someone, maybe you would still be racing. He remembered your bright smile that was present even after a tough race, and your good mood that was often highly contagious. The boys you raced against loved you dearly, mostly because you brought a different energy into their little boys’ club.

“Max, you’re next,” he was told all of a sudden.

He wasn't ready to face you, but there was no escape. What he had to do now was force a smile on his face and act like he was talking to someone else, someone whose presence didn't affect him half as much as yours did. But the moment he stopped in front of you and noticed a strange glint in your eyes, he had to focus on breathing in and out while you asked your first question.

After the camera was turned off, he cautiously watched you to see if you were planning to approach him, or if you seemed open to the possibility of him doing that. When you looked at him with a smile and said goodbye to the cameraman, he walked over to you with his hand folded behind his back.

“It's nice to see you here,” he said with a small, cautious smile. You nodded, but Max could see behind the cheerful look on your face, he could tell you were tense. “If I'm bothering you, just say it.”

You took a deep breath, and soon your smile changed, and it was now showing a lot more sadness. “It's been a while, that's all. Talking to you in person brings back different memories,” you admitted.

“Good or bad ones?”

Following a shrug, you folded your arms over your chest and looked down at your shoes. “Compared to the ones that come back when I see you or Charles on TV? Bad,” you finally replied.

Max gulped upon hearing this, feeling guilty despite knowing he had done nothing wrong, that whatever happened back in the day was the result of a series of decisions made by your parents. If it was up to him, he would have kept in touch with you, doing his best to see where this puppy love would lead the two of you. Maybe you would have broken up after he got into F1, maybe you would be married by now. It was a question he had no answer to.

The best he could do now was trying to make you understand this, making you see that he wanted to fix things now, even if you would be nothing more than friends. Sure, he had no idea how much you had changed over the years, but he knew there was only one way to find out. “I know it means very little after all these years, but I’m sorry,” he said to break the deafening silence.

You nodded, then to his surprise, took a step closer to him. “I know it wasn’t your fault. My parents told me what happened exactly eventually.”

He watched you closely, trying to figure out if you were interested in a proper conversation, maybe later in private. But before he could speak up, Charles walked over to the two of you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder with a big smile on his face. “It’s been so long,” he said happily, earning a shy smile and a barely visible shake of your head from you.

Max bit the inside of his cheek, annoyed by the sudden appearance of the Ferrari driver, but the main problem was a vivid memory from his childhood. While him and Charles had gone for blood on the track and didn’t have the best relationship off it either, you and the Monegasque were on very good terms, with you even visiting him and his family in his home. It didn’t bother him until his brain finally caught up with his feelings and he realized he had a crush on you, because then he felt intense jealousy every time his rival laid a finger on you, even if it was nothing more than a friendly pat on the shoulder.

You then suddenly moved to give him a hug, and seeing the way Charles wrapped his arms around you made his blood boil, even if he knew deep down that he had no right to be jealous. But it was painfully obvious that the two of you were talking to each other, keeping your voices down as much as you could in the noise around you, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it was all about.

Then he finally let go of you and said goodbye, although the two of you agreed to have dinner in Italy next week to catch up. Max took a deep breath and thought about what to say, but before he could come up with anything, an official came over to drag him to the cooldown room, so all he could do was apologize and say goodbye, wishing he could see you again next week. According to Charles you were supposed to be there in Monza, which meant he would have the chance to talk to you.

To properly talk to you and possibly find out more about your life after you quit racing.

He knew in the cooldown room they were supposed to talk about the race, but all he could think about was asking Charles what you talked about, what was so secretive that no one else could hear it? So, in the end he didn’t say much, he just watched the recap of the race and discussed what he saw if it was standing out. Even while standing on the podium, his eyes scanned the crowd under them, trying to find you as if he was playing Where’s Wally?

On the way home, he spent his time browsing your social media accounts, and he couldn’t help but wonder why he had never checked them. On X, you were posting about F1 news, commenting on them as a journalist, while on Instagram you focused on sharing more personal posts, like photos of your holiday, your hobbies, or yourself in the paddock. There had been so many of those, how come he hadn’t met you before?

Having a glimpse into your life felt so nice that he hadn’t realized he had scrolled back a few years. Well, not until it turned out he accidentally liked a few of your old photos. If you hadn’t seen the notifications, he wouldn’t have noticed that. But you saw them and weren’t shy to send him a DM about it.

The next few days passed with him regularly checking his DMs to see if you wrote to him again, if you changed your mind and decided to have dinner with him, but there was nothing, so he was forced to wait for the perfect opportunity to talk to you in the paddock in Italy. How he would find you in the flurry of people was a mystery, although he had a fleeting idea that maybe their PR team could help him get a hold of you. Not like that could work, a request like this would certainly give them a stroke, assuming he was planning to give a random interview.

His heart skipped a beat when he noticed you at the press conference, talking to some of the drivers behind the cameras. Your eyes were shining brightly, your smile lit up the room around you, and Max felt like he had been taken back to his childhood when all the boys at their karting races swarmed around you to get a scrap of your attention. But those were hormone-driven teenagers, while these guys were grown men, many of them in serious relationships, so he knew it wasn’t entirely the same situation.

This time Max made sure he could stick around after the interviews, hoping to get a hold of you once you were done. He approached you after everyone left and you decided to chat with someone from the crew. He cleared his throat nervously, subconsciously expecting you to yell at him, to tell him to leave you alone. But your poker face was perfect, because you turned to him with a kind smile and acted like you were ready to have a pleasant chat with him. The crew member left you alone, so only the two of you were left there.

“You either don’t understand the word no, or you just learned to completely ignore it because you always get what you want,” you said with a sigh, the smile long gone by now.

He let the last part of the comment go past his ear, instead he just took a deep breath and began to massage the back of his neck. “Can’t we have a pleasant conversation? Just put everything aside, forget about our shared past, and let’s treat this as a chance for a fresh start.”

You watched him with a thoughtful hum for a while, then nodded. “All right. What would you like to talk about?” you asked with a curious look in your eyes.

“Us.”

“There’s no such thing as us.”

“Too bad, because that’s exactly what I want,” he was quick to inform you, mentally kicking himself for being this straightforward, even if it was true. Because he wanted to see if you would be interested in the 2.0 version of your relationship, the chance to see how your young love would work out in your adult lives. “Are you seeing anyone?”

For a moment you hesitated, but then you shook your head. “No. I don’t really have the time for that,” you replied honestly. Before Max could speak up again, though, you began to talk once more. “But I’m a reporter here, dating a driver would be… unethical. I can’t play favorites,” you explained.

Max took a quick look around, then gently placed a hand on your cheek. “We can figure that out later. Let’s focus on step one, which is going on a first date. Tonight? We can turn to room service to help us out if you don’t want to meet somewhere public,” he told you.

“So you want me all to yourself in your hotel room?” you asked with a teasing smile.

He was sure as hell he blushed, because the idea of what you were suggesting hadn’t occurred to him. Having you alone in his hotel room wasn’t something he consciously planned out, he only wanted to meet you somewhere away from the curious eyes. “It’s not like that,” he told you defensively.

“I know, don’t worry. Send me the when and where,” you said as you patted his shoulder. “See you later, Max.”

Nodding, he watched as you walked away from him. He didn’t say a word–no, he couldn’t say a word. His brain was too busy replaying the way his name rolled off your tongue, that sweet, soft tone of your voice as you said goodbye. With his mind still lost in a pink haze, he returned to their motorhome to gather his things and call it a day. He couldn’t wait to meet you, that was all he could focus on.

A few hours later he was sitting on the edge of his bed, his foot nervously tapping on the floor while he waited. You could be here any minute, and waiting was the worst part. Well, maybe the conversation wouldn’t be that much better, but he could still hope for the best. So when half an hour later there was a knock on his door, his lips curled into a wide smile and he rushed over there to let you in.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I was held up in the media center,” you apologized the moment the door closed behind you.

Max had to take a deep breath to calm himself. You being close to him again brought back feelings he thought he had long forgotten, and he wanted to give you a kiss, a soft kiss to test the waters with you. But he had to behave, he had no idea where the two of you were standing right now. “It’s okay, don’t worry. So, dinner?” he asked after a short break, giving you a smile.

Food seemed to get you in the mood to chat, because as the two of you enjoyed the various dishes he ordered, you started to tell him about your life after everything that had happened back then. You finished high school like a normal kid, went to college to study journalism, and you managed to get jobs at various places that were related to motorsports, especially F1. That was your dream, to once work with this world, but you were quick to clarify knowing he made it here didn’t give you the idea.

He tried to hide the cocky smirk that wanted to show up on his face, because he was sure what you said weren’t true. A voice in the back of his mind told him you wanted to see him again, that you wanted to get back what had been taken from the two of you all those years ago. After all, why wouldn’t he think that? It didn’t take much convincing to get you to meet him tonight. And if he was delusional? At least it was a nice thought.

It was then his turn to talk, so he told you stories that you had probably never heard, about himself, about the grid, about everything, really. If you asked questions about his family, you focused on his sister and mother, but you were mostly interested in his cats and hobbies. As you told him, you couldn’t understand how he ended up being such a cat dad, but it certainly suited him.

“Charles said he doesn’t get murderous thoughts about you several times a day lately,” you suddenly noted with a short laugh.

Clearing his throat, Max tilted his head to the side. “You talked to him?” he asked casually.

You nodded and took another bite of your pasta. “Yeah, we had dinner yesterday. I remember how the two of you were back then, I was wondering what the situation was now,” you said with a shrug.

A wide grin crept on his face upon hearing this. “So you asked him about me.”

“It was just one question, don’t get too cocky,” you pointed out with a roll of your eyes. “But I’m glad you kinda get along now. It’s nice to see that.”

Max flashed a smile at you, then returned his attention to his dinner. For a while you both ate in silence, but then you got rid of the plates and he found himself wondering what to do next. So he just looked down at his hand and moved it closer to yours, letting his little finger brush against yours as if you were back in your teenage years. You let out a laugh when you noticed, and you looked at him with a kind smile. You weren’t as cold as you had been earlier today, now you seemed to have warmed up to him, ready to give him a chance to show you what he wanted.

So, he took a deep breath and leaned in to kiss you, cautiously moving his lips against yours to make sure he didn’t scare you away. It took you a few seconds, but you eventually eased into the kiss, one of your hands even moving up to his face to keep him close. He couldn’t hold back a quiet chuckle that drew a questioning hum out of you. Max shook his head, then he dived in to kiss you again, but at the same time he let his hand wander under your shirt, even though he could have expected what happened next.

Because you pulled away and pushed his hand away from your body. “Stop, don’t… I shouldn’t even be here, I should just go, and–”

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t do this, don’t push me away. I’m sorry. If you want to slow down, that’s exactly what we’re gonna do, okay?” he asked you, his voice desperate. For a minute or two you remained completely silent, you were just watching him with doe eyes, as if you were trying to process what just happened. “Please, just stay,” he said quietly.

You hesitantly took his hand and gulped loudly as you gathered your thoughts. “Listen, it’s complicated. I already told you, I shouldn’t date drivers, but,” you began, but fell silent without finishing the sentence.

Max cupped your face and rested his forehead against yours. “One step at a time, all right? We’ll figure out if this could even work between us, then we’ll decide how to move on,” he said with a soft smile. When you nodded, he kissed your nose. “Good. Do you want to stay with me and cuddle a little, or would you rather go?”

“We just cuddle, right?” you asked with a thin voice. When he nodded, you let out a soft sigh. “Okay, just for a little while, then I’ll leave.”

But you didn’t leave. The next morning he woke up to you sleeping soundly with your head on his chest, snoring softly while you were lost in your dream world. Max couldn’t stop grinning, he was way too excited and happy to keep a straight face. It felt so nice, so natural, that he wondered how long you would be against it. You clearly wanted this as much as he did, but if you needed time, he was willing to give it to you.

As you lay there, he remembered that vacation all those years ago, when your parents not-so-accidentally bumped into his mom. His first date in a local cinema, watching a movie that was dubbed and neither of you could fully understand it. His first kiss in that movie theater with a girl that was special enough to catch his attention. The way you fell asleep with your head on his shoulder one night when your parents talked a little too long in a restaurant on the beach.

And he was hell-bent on going back to that town to experience everything again as adults. All he needed was you softening enough to let him take care of you in front of the whole world.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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