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gghostwriter · 29 days ago

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Time Gave No Compass, Were There Clues?

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: The three times fate brings you to cross paths with a certain handsome stranger and the one time he purposely crosses with yours Trope:It’s fluff in a meet cute type of way w.c: 5.6k+ a/n: this is connected to ‘One Single Thread of Gold’! This took forever to make simply because I had this fear that the second part wouldn’t come out as great as the first and I’ve been in a writing funk lately—not quite sure if my writing worsened or got better during this period but at this point, maybe I shouldn’t care that much anymore? That’s a lie so please comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

The first encounter—a knight in a vintage blue vehicle

The drumming noise of the rain against the vinyl awning of the Japanese restaurant became the perfect soundtrack for watching countless strangers scurry to the nearest shelter.

It was the night that you have dubbed your unluckiest as a woman in Washington—up until he came along.

According to the morning weather forecast, there was little to no chance of rain. A radiant reprieve from the downpour of light rainfall the city had been experiencing three days in a row. A believer of facts you were, excitedly slipped on your new pair of heels and joined the outside world, sun shining up above the sky without a single speck of dark cloud lingering in its wake.

The work day was nothing special—jumping on video calls with your boss, answering international emails from the magazine’s sister branches abroad, and reviewing articles set to be published for next month’s print.

Nothing unusual. No sign that the day would roller coaster down and up again, before ending right before a drop, leaving you white knuckled with anticipation.

As you were exiting the diner with your freshly cooked to-go in one hand, the weather decided to beat the statistics presented by the news forecast. Rain poured down hard, effectively stranding you on the covered sidewalk.

“Oh,” you mumbled under your breath, forced to settle down on the empty outdoor seating. The gust of cold wind that caressed your cheeks to turn pink reminded you of comforting childhood memories—warm cocoa, blanket forts, and cuddles with your precious teddy bear.

It brought a smile on your face, recalling the time when life was still simple.

Working as a writer for an established fashion magazine had its own ups and downs. You felt lucky enough to be given the opportunity to work with living and breathing artists, all the while having the flexibility to live anywhere in the country.

Your boss initially found it odd when you mentioned temporarily moving back to Washington. It wasn’t a state well-established in the industry after all. It was a city filled with starched pressed suits, neutral ties, and newly shined loafers—the epicenter for politics and everything serious.

The ridiculous misconception about fashion and its frivolousness caused your nose to scrunch. It was the same idea that pushed newly graduate you to move to New York and burn the midnight oil to be where you were now, highly respected in the circle.

She understood your truth—the need for a change of scenery before jumping back in to the game with fresh new eyes. Jokingly, she wagered you’d only last two months away from the Big Apple before coming back. It had been six months since then and you were starting to believe the urge for the city that never sleeps will never cross your mind again.

As you mused about the trajectory of your career, the clouds started to let up, enough that you took the chance to open your compact umbrella and possibly ruin your heels to get to the nearest subway entrance just 10 minutes away.

A mistake that you realized halfway as a sudden blast of strong wind flipped your umbrella inside out, rending you vulnerable to the hasty returning rain.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath as water started to stain your light purple satin heels, turning them near black.

Definitely ruined.

The flickering light of the entrance and the still warm spot underneath the restaurant pulled you in two different directions. Should you just brave the weather already starting to look like a drowned animal or should you go back with your tail tucked between your legs?

As you debated your next move, being poorly protected by your broken umbrella and soaked by the tormenting weather no less, a blue vintage car came to a stop beside you and honked it’s horn.

“Um—do you need help? A ride, maybe?” a voice shouted out of the rolled down passenger window, barely heard against the torrential downpour.

A good Samaritan was rare this day and age. So uncommon that it made you immediately wary. You looked around, making sure it was you the stranger was addressing before uttering a reply.

“Depends on who’s asking,” your free hand clutching the ends of your spoiled umbrella. “Are you a serial killer by any chance?”

He paused, caught off guard with your question, and chuckled. “What? No, no. Not at all, just a concerned citizen.”

You bit your lip, wavering between accepting his offer at the risk of your life, before reaching to open the passenger door. “Fair enough.”

The stranger promptly layered a black windbreaker on the tan leather seats. “Sorry, it’s just—did you know that wet leather can lead to discoloration?”

Your eyebrows raised, shuffling to get comfortable on the seat—mindful of your back not touching, before giving him a nod. “Yes, actually I did but it’s great to see someone else know about it too.”

He pressed his lips together into a tight smile and reached forward on the console, tinkering with the unlabeled knobs, turning up the heat.

Your eyes tracked his every movement, curious as to any indication to who this mysterious gentleman was.

His nails were light pink in color, clean, and cut short—possibly for a desk office job. His fingers were long and bony, model length you’d surmise—a little calloused on one side of his middle finger possibly from holding a pen too tight. The back of his hand veined and wide in size, big enough to dwarf your dainty slim hands in comparison.

Your cheeks heated up, feeling guilty for gawking at a man’s hands before spilling your address without so much of a thought for your safety.

The stranger blanched, clearly caught off guard with your trusting nature. “Didn’t your mother teach you not to go with strangers willingly? Or provide vital information about yourself for that matter?”

You appraised his profile as his eyes trained on the road.

Hazel colored hair that curled around his face. Sunken eyes framed by long, dark lashes that any woman could envy. A tall and straight nose bridge. Maroon pillowy lips and a sharp jawline perfectly matched with a five-o’clock shadow.

He was handsome.

Pretty even.

The type you’d see a casting agent and photographer fawn over.

Shoulders seemingly angular and wide, stretching his black knitted cardigan well. It’s arms pushed up to showcase his forearms lithe in form with muscles flexing underneath as he twists the wheel to take a right. His seat pushed the farthest it could go, highlighting how tall he could be.

Your handsome gentleman could rival male models that graced your magazine’s editorial pages.

“Well, you don’t look like a serial killer and I think I’d take my chances with you than out there—” a flash of lightning trailed on the darkened sky followed by a loud clap of thunder. “—yeah, I stand with my choice.”

His laughter mid-pitched, filled the confined space. “And how does a serial killer look like?”

“Sinister and not trustworthy. You look neither, by the way,” you shrugged.

“Actually, there’s a minor percentage of killers that don’t fit in your description. Ted Bundy is an example, he used his good looks to lure in unsuspecting women.”

You hummed in agreement. “You’re right and you could definitely use your looks too but I still doubt you’re one. Let’s call it intuition and if I had to guess, you work at a desk job. Finance or Human Resources, maybe?”

“Are you saying I look—” he cleared his throat, a wrinkle appearing between his well shaped brows. “—handsome?”

“Well, at the risk of sounding like I’m flirting with you—which I’m not, well, maybe. But yes, I think you’re good looking. Handsome.”

The pink flush that slowly darkened to a cherry red started its descent to his exposed neck, making him look more endearing. His reaction made it quite obvious he was never one to receive such flattery about his appearance which made you question the eyes of the women around him.

He was utterly distinguished and dressed in this comforting nerdy fashion that added to the appeal.

“I take it you’re not used to compliments.”

The long lashes that framed his molten chocolate eyes fluttered, as if highlighting is naivety in dealing with the opposite sex.

It sent butterflies free in your stomach.

“Yeah, but thank you. And I’m really not a serial killer—I wouldn’t be using a memorable vehicle in picking up a victim in a crowded street with city cameras around. Not that, that information helps me state my case. In fact, it’s making it worse—” he rambled out, easing the car into a stop beside your apartment complex. “What I meant was, I-I think you’re good looking too, beautiful.”

You laughed at the absurdity of where your night has ended up.

The air trapped between two bodies crackled with an energy you couldn’t name. It was humming below the surface, making you feel hyper aware of the man who drove you home.

It was igniting.

Possibly the start of something.

In contrast, the outside was quiet and still. The rain had finally come and gone, leaving behind its comforting atmosphere.

The lamp posts reflecting off the puddles of water, tinting the streets a warm, honey gold color. Leaves dancing, like string puppets controlled by the forces of nature. The wind whispering and giggling—to what, you didn’t know but you felt it wasn’t important to dissect. No more important than the stranger who’s scent, aged books and cedar wood, intermingled with yours, vanilla and a hint of amber.

“Thank you for the ride,” quickly exiting the vehicle. Suddenly you felt shy as the last few minutes replayed in your head—how trusting you were to take his offer and how naive it was of you to let your guard down.

The sound of a subsequent car door opening echoed on the empty street. “You’re welcome and you’re wrong, by the way.”

“Wrong about what?” You twisted to look back.

The street lights hitting his face, casting a mysterious shadow on his handsome features.

“About me working in finance or human resources.”

Huh.

Your steps faltered to a stop.

That was a first—people around you always did say you read people best.

He was an exception it seemed.

An anomaly.

A mystery you wouldn’t mind taking a second try in solving.

“Better luck next time then. I hope to see you around,” you waved as you opened the heavy metal gate behind you.

His hand mimicked your goodbye before promptly reaching down to open his car door, effectively disappearing from your gaze as you pushed the main door open to the lobby.

As you watched the remaining water droplets slide down your coat, waiting for the rickety elevator to descend, an all important question popped in your mind that you never uttered into the world.

His name.

You forgot to ask for his name.

Hurriedly running back to the entrance, your stained heels clacking on the stoned pathway, you opened the gate just to spy the gentleman’s memorable light blue vehicle rev forward to blend into the chilly city night.

Damn.

The second—a shared cup of Joe between two no longer strangers

The sun peeking underneath the cotton candy white clouds did little to fight off the inevitable Autumn air. Weeks of sunny days from the past storm is nearing its end causing the city occupants to flood the streets and parks for their last soak of Summer.

Weeks have gone since your enthralling encounter with the handsome stranger and his vintage blue car. You’ve spent days replaying the memory in hopes of finding any more clues on who he was or even how to run into him again. Nights lamenting over the missed opportunity and the bitter what-if that came with it. The thought, now hazy from time passed, seemed to be colored in this golden hue you couldn’t quite describe.

A sigh escaped from between your pale pink lips.

The moment was captivating.

He was beguiling.

But until you run into him again, his very being in your mind lived rent free.

Hand adjusting the pale pink scarf wrapped around your neck, you stepped into the warm quaint bakery down by the office. The aroma of freshly baked bread and roasting coffee beans enveloped the otherwise packed store. It was still early on the day and otherwise sleep deprived workers were queuing up for their daily fix.

This had been your spot since renting a small office space to commute to. Given your need to separate home from work, you’ve opted to find a studio you could call your temporary ‘work room’. It added extra expense, you’d agree but the comfort of being in a sea of strangers going to and from added a sense of productivity you’d never quite get if you created a makeshift office in your one bedroom apartment downtown.

You squeezed your way towards the front to view the pastry selection when you spotted him.

The gentleman in question at the counter, clearly holding up the line.

He flashed Sarah, your usual fixer as you joked, a tight smile filled with apologies and embarrassment.

Destiny seemed to have heard your calls and to that you were grateful.

Not wanting to let this second chance encounter go to waste, you excused yourself to the register and deftly slid your card on the white granite counter.

“Hey Sarah, do you mind adding my order with his? And a one of your buttery croissants would be much appreciated.”

Her eyebrows raised, clearly wondering the reason behind your surprising actions. Eyes flickered to the stranger beside you muttering his light disagreeing reaction before nodding towards you, as if agreeing with what she saw. “One long black and a flat white coming right up.”

“Hey stranger, fancy seeing you here,” you cocked your head to the side, loose tendrils escaping the confines of your loose bun.

The same blush that haunted you graced his face. “Hey—hi, it’s you! It’s nice to see you again,” his fingers proceeded to fiddle with his leather worn wallet. “You didn’t have to do that, you know. Pay for my coffee, I mean.”

“It’s no problem at all, just think of it as my payment for the ride the other day and also a thank you for, you know, not turning out to be a killer, like you kept bringing up.”

He chuckled, eyes crinkling close. “Well, I just wanted to instill some extra caution in you. It’s good to think well of people in general but it doesn’t hurt to be wary of them either. Especially the statistics of you—a young woman being targeted is quite high no matter how safe Washington seems to be.”

“I did get an earful from my friend about the reckless act I did. So, safe to say I’ve learned my lesson—” you paused, flashing Sarah a smile as your hands wrapped around the steaming cup of coffee and the bag containing the pastry. “But between you and me, I think she was more miffed about something I didn’t do.”

He mimicked your movements and proceeded to guide you to the nearest available standing table, his free hand hovering near the small of your back.

“And what was it?”

“Not getting your name.”

His free hand wrapped around the strap of his satchel, pulling it towards the front of his body as if it was a shield that could hide away the blush that slowly crept down his neck.

“I, yeah—Spencer. Spencer Reid.”

You introduced yourself with the same enthusiasm, finally at ease for knowing who he was.

“Well then, Spencer Reid, was I really wrong or was that just a lie to throw my deductive skills off course?” your hands pushing the packets of sugar towards his steaming open cup.

He thank you silently, counting at least 8 packets of sugar before returning the remaining ones in the jar. “What do you mean?”

“You not working in finance.”

“Well statistically speaking, more than 43% of the offices located here don’t belong in the finance section,” he grinned.

With his eyes twinkling, he further continued. “21% of those are actually the government sector while the remaining are a mixture of publishing, business, and IT.”

“You sprouting off statistics doesn’t really sway me from my guess, you do know that?” You hummed, watching him dump and stir all the sugar into his dark cup of Joe. The idea of how sweet it would be sent a slight shiver down your spine. “If not finance then hmm—what about teaching?”

Appraising his get up for the day—a purple button down layered with a seemingly fraying cardigan and a black overcoat. He reminded of you of those quirky university professors that students would have no problem having a crush on.

“You look like a young college professor with a couple degrees under your belt. Maybe literature? Or math?”

An airy laughter emitted between his lips. “Why is it always returning back to math?”

“I truly don’t know—” you shrugged. “You look smart and academic so that’s my best guess.”

“There’s actually a statistic on how many academically gifted people end up in the field of science rather than in math but I don’t know if you’d like to hear it.”

You leaned forward. “I actually do but that would cement my idea of you in maths.”

A ring from his pocket interrupted his reply. Spencer clambered to answer the call even before its’ third ring.

“Yeah. Okay, got it. 5 minutes.”

Any humor or lightheartedness the conversation brought had been erased from his face. It must have been work and the gravity of his responsibility must be heavy—definitely not finance and maybe not a professor then.

“I have to go—” Spencer tightly smiled, hands pulling the satchel and drink closer to his body. “It was really nice seeing you again.”

You nodded, wordlessly walking out of the shop with him. As he started to step away from your presence, he turned back one last time to further throw you off course.

“You were right about one thing.”

Brows furrowing together, you shout back. “Which one?”

Spencer just smiled and shrugged his shoulders before turning forward, picking up his pace and leaving you further baffled about his mystery.

The third—a run- in during an otherwise idle day

The white noise the train against its tracks threatened to lull you into a daze. Its compartment surprisingly sparse with occupants during this otherwise tranquil Saturday. Everyone seemed to be at nearby parks, watching the leaves slowly turn this red-orange hue.

Your companion in hand—a book with its spine cracked and front cover folded backwards, sat idly on your denim lap. It was a tattered and worn copy of Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights. When you were in your teens, it had been the gateway to your love of classic literature and it had been your favorite ever since.

The bench you were seated on shifted and with it, medium brown brogues registered in your periphery.

Inwardly, you scoffed at the stranger invading your space when there were a multitude of empty seats available in your section. Briefly you wondered if this was going to be another day of being picked up by men who didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘no’ which inevitably would ruin your day.

As you were debating on nicely excusing yourself away, the man cleared his throat.

“Hey—hi,” he sheepishly greeted in this voice that had been replaying in your head since that rainy weekday night.

You blinked away the surprise—the bafflement that fate had seemed to cross your path with his again and again and again. It always happened when you least expected it. After all, you spent numerous days craning your neck for even a small glimpse of Spencer Reid to no avail. Your eyes would subconsciously sweep the streets for a view of any suede coat matched with a purple pattern scarf. It had been your own version of Where’s Waldo—a past time that your friend joined as you forbade her (and by extension, yourself) from looking him up online.

You wanted to keep the mystery and it seemed fate was rewarding you today.

“Hi-hey Spencer. This is a surprise,” your cheeks stretching wide from the grin you gave him.

His fingers brushed a nonexistent stray of hair behind his ears. “Yeah, I couldn’t believe it was you. The odds of ever seeing you again—or anyone I’d know on the train is low, with how many people Virginia has.”

“Isn’t it fascinating?” your hands closing the book that no longer held your attention. “How we seemed to just run into each other? Funny how that works.”

“I mean, you could say that—not that I believe in destiny or fate with how abstract and little scientific studies it has. Maybe we just run in the same small schedule or circle.”

Your eyebrow raised, appraising his look.

His hair looked unruly—with one side more flattened the the other, possibly slept on. His clothes, although free from any stains that would indicate it as yesterday’s, had crease marks that were reminiscent of its folding. They were clean but also not pressed—came from the satchel then. The very same bag laying on his lap, no doubt filled with dirty laundry and other necessities.

“I don’t think so,” you pondered on. “Are you just on your way back home from work, by any chance?”

“How’d you know that?” His voice cracking at the end.

You shrugged. “I pick up on things, small details and all that.”

“That’s really good. Must come in handy with your work as a journalist.”

Now it was your turn to be surprised. “How’d you know that? How’d—what gave it away?”

“It was an educated guess which—” he flashed you a grin. “—you just confirmed now.”

“Touche. Although that does seem unfair,” you pouted. “You know my occupation but I can’t even get yours right.”

He tilted his head to the right, eyes twinkling with life that keeps you pulled in. “You’re welcome to guess. In fact, I could give you a clue if you wanted—” he paused waiting for your agreement which you readily gave. “—alright you were right about one thing the last time: the one about me having multiple degrees.”

“You look young so I’m guessing a genius?”

“Well, my co-workers do like to tease me as one and it is true so yeah. I am a genius.”

The way his eyes shifted showed how bashful he was in admitting out loud he was one. You briefly wondered if there was ever a time where he felt embarrassed about it—probably in high school, you’d surmise. Teenagers, after all, had the tendency to ostracize anyone who doesn’t fit the rigid status quo they’ve collectively agreed upon.

“That’s amazing!” You gushed. “And it does narrow it quite down, actually. Do you happen to work for the government? I mean, I’m sure they try to collect the best minds our country has to offer, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do work for the government. And you’re right, they do tend to employ gifted adults as a way to also surveillance them—to make sure they don’t turn into anti-statists or anarchists.”

You pondered over every detail he presented. Freshly manicured nails tapping on your leg before finally guessing. “Okay so, I was first going to say NASA because—” you shrugged. “—it’s space but then that would be too stereotypical of me to assume. Plus, you’ve thrown off just about any deductions I’ve made during our first two meetings—”

Spencer nodded. He seemed proud to listen to you ramble your way through.

“—I was also going to guess administrative work but it’s a weekend and you’re just on your way home so that’s a no—”

A small spread on his face.

A good sign that you were in the right direction.

“—it can’t be the judiciary too, right? I always imagined them to be wearing neutral suits and have this stoic air around them—”

He chuckled.

“—so I’m guessing law enforcement? Can’t be a regular cop, they have uniforms. So, for the FBI? Or am I just reaching?”

Spencer vigorously nodded his head, the wavy tendrils tucked behind his ears escaping their confines.

“That’s right! Wow—you’re really good at this. Maybe you should have also been scouted!” He teased.

You giggled, the happiness from getting it right and the idea of you working with a gun seemed ludicrous. “Sadly, I may be too clumsy for that kind of work. With my type of luck, I’d probably trip over my feet and mess up a crime scene.”

The automated voice announcing the next station broke through the lighthearted conversation. Spencer’s eyes widened ever so slightly, indicating that this was his stop.

“I guess this is it, huh? See you soon then, Spencer?”

He sandwiched his lower lip between his pearly teeth. “Would you be interested in purposefully seeing each other next time? I would love to get to know you more—over dinner? Coffee? Any would be great—you don’t have to say yes of course but yeah.”

“Can I say yes to all of the above?” You teased. “I would love to.”

Spencer started to get up, hands pulling on his satchel to secure it. The train was coming to a stop and you could begin to see the stop come into view.

Your hand quickly reached out to tug on his rolled sleeve. “Wait—how do we contact each other?”

“It’s tucked in your book. My number, I mean,” he laughed. The sound coaxing you to release your own. “See you!”

Your eyes tracked him getting off the train and his would meet yours one last time, before disappearing towards the station’s nearest exit. Your hands hastily opened the front page to where a new object was slotted in between without you knowing.

His calling card.

Federal Bureau of Investigation - Behavioral Analysis Unit SSA Dr. Spencer Reid 1-761-xxx-xxxx

Giggling, you fished your phone from the confines of your wallet and quickly sent out a text.

Hey. Are you a magician too, by any chance?

The fourth or better yet, the planned first—two strings interwoven by fate

Spencer hadn’t been able to explain the circumstances that led him here tonight—walking through a nearby park in the sparkly but cold weekend night with a beautiful woman right by his side.

The dinner date had gone surprisingly well. So great in fact that he didn’t want it to end. Suggesting to walk you back home rather than use his blue well beaten vehicle left parked near the restaurant was his idea to prolong the night.

He was well aware that you both could be exposing yourselves to a seasonal bout of cold but for the first time, it didn’t matter to his overactive and over-analytical brain. Nor did it seem to matter to you—given with how vigorously she accepted his suggestion to walk.

Your dainty right hand was wrapped around the bouquet of flowers he personally selected. An array of daisies, daffodils, and sedums.

Joy from having to meet you, to new beginnings, and affection.

Spencer wanted to convey what he had been feeling since that run-in the coffee shop. Regardless if you knew what they meant.

This was all uncharted territory and the incidents that brought them into each other’s worlds was baffling to say the least.

Was this the really the works of fate?

Does this prove that destiny is true and the notion of having free choice is a lie we tell ourselves?

He concluded it probably didn’t matter.

All that mattered was where he was now—with you.

“So you really took all those degrees all together?” you clarified, eyes widening from disbelief. “The amount of studying and writing you’ve done must have been massive.”

“Well, it did help that I could read fast—20,000 words per minute, but I could still remember my hands cramping from the amount I had to type down.”

“Of course you can still remember, with your eidetic memory and all. That must be nice—never forgetting any novel you’ve read.”

He shrugged. “It does have it’s perks but between you and me, there is a downside to it.”

You halted in her step, staring inquisitively up at him.

Spencer found it cute—how even with yout heeled boots on, you could only reach up to his chest. It gave him this sense of protectiveness over you being.

“Oh yeah, like what?”

He pondered. “Well, we did have this one vampire case and one of the victim’s laptop password was ‘Cullen’ and I didn’t get the reference—thought it was ‘colon’ actually. So I decided to read the first book and didn’t like it.”

“You actually read ‘Twilight’?” You giggled. It sounded like wind chimes echoing through the trees.

“I was curious!” His voice went up an octave. “Is that what teens are reading, really? What ever happened to reading ‘Lord of the Flies’ or Franz Kafka during high school, for that matter?”

“The one where a group of boys are stranded on an island or the one where the protagonist turns into a cockroach? Doesn’t really read romance for teen girls, Spencer.”

He chuckled. “And a 104 year old vampire does?”

“It’s about the idea,” you continued on walking, free hand swinging in between you—all he had to do was reach out and intertwine it with his but could he do that? Should he? Would she want that? “How Bella is your average, teen next door and someone like Edward, mysterious and handsome, could fall for her. It’s about the premise—I mean which teenage girl didn’t dream of something like that?”

“Does that include you too?”

You laughed. “I mean—Edward isn’t really my type but sure, I guess.”

Spencer decided to do it. He tentatively reached out his pinky to yours, looping them together.

There, a small touch you could say no to.

He waited for the reaction. From himself, there was a lack of worry for germs (this surprised him) and from you, the possibility of rejecting his small advances. With a breath lodged in his throat, Spencer watched a shy smile grace your face and cheeks turn further pink.

Empowered by the reaction, he reached out to intertwine the rest of his freezing hand with yours and proceeded to tuck both into his coat pocket. Spencer felt his cheeks emit warmth, wondering where his courage came from. If Morgan just saw him now, no doubt he’d get a pat at the back and a whispered ‘you’ve got serious game, kid.’

“It’s a good thing he isn’t my type at all, don’t you think so?” You whispered. “I mean, you don’t sparkle in the sun, do you?”

His laughter echoed through the otherwise empty streets.

“Oh god—that was so so bad. Ignore my cheesy flirting, please.”

“No, no,” he shook his head, feeling lightheaded from your presence. “I don’t think I do, actually. We could check—” clearing his throat “—once the weather gives way to the sun.”

It seemed like you got what he was subtly stating. “That long, huh? I’ll hold you to that promise.”

“Please do.”

Both your steps slowed to a stop in front of your apartment complex.

Spencer sighed under his breath, he really didn’t want the night to end. There was still so much to talk about—anything and nothing at the same time. Is this what they meant when they said time flies when you’re having fun?

“Well,” you squeezed his hand twice. “This is it. I had fun tonight, Spencer.”

He squeezed back in return. “I did too. Can I—call you again?”

You nodded, a single tendril of hair escaping from its' loose bun.

Mesmerized, Spencer reached forward and secured it behind your reddening ear. “Get home safe.”

“I doubt anything would happen between my way up from the elevator to my door but I will. Drive safe and let me know you got in safely, got it?”

He reluctantly let go of your hand, slowly backing away without turning his back on you. Each second seeing you bundled up in a coat with flowers still on hand was an image he never wanted to forget, never wanted to miss.

As he was a few steps away, the wind carried your sweet voice to his ears.

“Hey, Spencer. There’s one thing I think you forgot to take with you.”

He patted his coat, unsure as to what you were pertaining to. Eyes scanning his being when the distinct sound of your heels against the pavement, getting closer and closer, made him look up.

A pair of soft warm lips met his cheeks.

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

His jaw dropped. The act short circuited his otherwise intelligent brain. It felt like every thought had dropped away, turning insignificant, compared to the tensed silence between two individuals once considered strangers but now intertwined in a way he could not explain in any language he knew.

Little white specks floated down from the sky, coloring the moment in the lightest color ever possible—a hue that symbolized new beginnings.

Before his mind could catch up, Spencer felt himself moving.

Towards you.

Closing in.

Cupping your cheeks.

And meeting his own lips with the ones that short circuited his brain.

In that moment, all he could comprehend was the smell of you—like freshly cleaned laundry dried under the sun. The taste of you—cherries with a hint of the red wine you drank over dinner. And the feel of you—warm, hands grasping his coat tight, flowers dropped on the ground, momentarily forgotten.

These were details he willed to engrave in his eidetic memory. Observations he doesn’t want to forget.

And you, the single woman he hopes to never lose.

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

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multi-fandom-imagine · 1 month ago

Note

Imagine House who can tell something is off with you but can't figure out what. It bothers him immensely, and he gets prickly about it. Now, when you finally tell him you're pregnant, he damn near has a heart attack.

A/n: I LOVE THIS!

House loved you.

Truly...you were the one person besides Wilson that seemed to see the best in a cynical bastard like himself.

But of their was one thing he couldn't stand not being able to figure something out and right now you were putting him in that moment.

House had knew something was off with you, and it was driving him crazy. You'd been acting differently for weeks—distracted, quiet at times, and oddly sentimental in others. You’d smile at him like you had a secret, then brush it off when he asked you what was going on.This was maddening. He hated being out of the loop.

His frustration started bubbling to the surface in typical House fashion—sharp comments, teasing questions disguised as jabs, and an almost childish insistence that you were hiding something from him.

“You’re fidgeting,” he said one evening as you both sat on the couch. He gestured with his cane as if it were a pointer, accusing you as if you were on trial. “You never fidget. Unless you’ve taken up a secret career as a poker player, there’s something you’re not telling me...what is it?"

You raised an eyebrow at him, trying to keep a straight face. “Greg, not everything has to be some big mystery.”

“Except when it is,” he shot back. “You’ve been weird lately. Quieter. Glowing, but not in your usual annoyingly optimistic way. It’s like…sunshine and overpowering of sunshine but with a side of nerves. So Spill.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a smile. He was so perceptive it was almost unfair, but this time, you didn’t feel quite ready to tell him. Not yet, not when you had to make sure“Maybe I’ve just been working too much.”

House narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. “Or maybe you’re secretly building a bunker for the end of the world. Honestly, that seems more plausible.”

You laughed, leaning into his shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you love me,” he quipped, poking your side gently. But the smirk on his face faded as he looked at you, his eyes searching yours. “Seriously, Y/n. If something’s going on, you can tell me. I’m not as scary as I look nor as fragile."

You hesitated, your smile faltering for just a moment before you shook your head. “Not yet, Greg. I’ll tell you when I’m ready....please."

With a grumble, House relaxed into the couch but this was far from over.

It was a week later, and House was still obsessing over it. He found himself analyzing every move yoy made, every shift in your tone. He was annoyed—at you for keeping him in the dark and at himself for caring so much.

But that night, you decided it was time. You couldn’t keep it to yourself any longer, not when he was practically bursting with curiosity. They were in his apartment, eating takeout, when you set down your fork and took a deep breath.

“Greg, we need to talk,” you said softly.

House froze mid-bite, his brain instantly jumping to the worst-case scenario. His eyes narrowed. “That’s never a good start. Are you dying? Did you cheat on me? Wait, don’t answer that—I’d know. I’m a doctor.”

You shook your head, smiling at his dramatics. “No, I’m not dying. And no, I didn’t cheat on you.”

“Well, that narrows it down to alien abduction or—”

“I’m pregnant.”

The words hit him like a freight train. For a moment, he didn’t react at all, just staring at you with wide eyes as his brain worked overtime to process what you'd just said. Then, slowly, he set his takeout box aside, his hands suddenly feeling too clumsy to hold anything.

“You’re…pregnant?” he repeated, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. His heart was hammering in his chest and he could have sworn he might have a heart attack.

You nodded, watching him carefully. “Yes. About two months.”

House blinked, his usual quick wit completely failing him. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words came out. Finally, he let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I…you’re serious?”

He didn't know how that was never an option in his made up scenarios. Maybe it was due to him thinking it couldn't happen, that he didn't deserve to be happy, didn't deserve this.

He could see it now, now that you said it, now that he got a proper look at you. You had a soft glow about you. The one he'd often see in expecting mothers in the hospital, the subtle curve of your stomach. He suddenly felt like an idiot now.

“Yes, Greg,” you said, your tone gentle. “I’m serious.”

He leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling as if it held all the answers to the universe. “Holy crap,” he muttered. “I’m gonna be a dad.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his stunned expression. “Is that a good ‘holy crap’ or a bad one?”

House looked at you then, his blue eyes wide and unguarded in a way you rarely saw. Slowly, a small, almost boyish smile spread across his face. “It’s…a terrifying ‘holy crap.’ But I think it’s also a good one.”

Relief washed over you, as you reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “I know it’s a lot, Greg. But I think we can do this. Together.”

He squeezed your hand, his mind racing. “We’re having a baby,” he said again, as if saying it out loud would make it more real. Then, in true House fashion, he added with a smirk, “This kid’s gonna have your brains and my charm. God help the world.”

You laughed, leaning into his side. “And your sarcasm, I’m sure.”

“And your optimism,” he countered, his tone softening as he looked at you. “Kid’s gonna be unstoppable.”

For the first time in a long time, House felt something he rarely allowed himself to feel: hope. Sure, he was terrified. He had no idea how to be a father, but as he sat there with your hand in his, he realized something important.

He wasn’t alone in this. And maybe, just maybe, he could figure it out—with you.

#drabbles #drabble #gregory house #greg house #gregory house x reader #gregory house x you #gregory house x y/n #greg house x reader #greg house x you #house md #house md x reader #house md x you #house x reader

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nevermorefanfics · 4 months ago

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A LONG LOST LOVE

Pt.1 Pt.2

Pairing: Y/N x Klaus Mikaelson

Summary: You have been looked in a chest for 200 years. A chest Mikael trapped you in. One day the Scooby gang just accidentally manages to get the chest open, Asking you to go to a ball where your husband and the rest of your family is going to be...

Warnings ⚠️: Swearing, a little angst, fluff, mentions to sex, blood and spoilers (Kind of)

A/N: Hi! Thank you so much for choosing this fic! It's my first TVD one and I deeply hope you'll like it. If you want a pt.2 please like and comment! Btw just pretend that Astrid's just dead!

Prologue

Damon opened the chest before him. Bonnie had been able to destroy the invisible magical bonds that were tying it together, but it'd taken all her power and right now Elena was taking her upstairs to get some sleep.

"Just open it up already." Stefan or at least the Ripper said.

Damon rolled his eyes and slowly lifted off the top of the chest. Stefan stepped forward to see what was in there and for a moment he was mesmerized. In the chest law a woman who looked like she was sleeping. Her Y/h/c hair law outspread by her head and her clothes looked like they were from the 1800. Suddenly her eyes opened and a gasp for air sounded through the abandoned house.

________________________________________

You were awake. For the first time in so long you were awake. You could feel your heart beating eyes slowly opening and you could breath. Looking up, you saw two men, correction two vampires, presumably brother based on their looks. Suddenly you felt a hunger snap in your chest.

"Blood-I need blood..." You scream whispered. The taller of the men, threw you a blood bag, and as you slowly sat up to drink it you felt their eyes on you.

"Who are you?" The one with dark brown hair asked. Looking at you curiously.

"I'm Y/N Mikaelson, where the fuck did you guys find me?" You questioned them.

"Mikaelson? Are you Klaus and Rebekah's sister?" The taller one demanded you.

"Sister? God no, I'm Klaus's wife. You know where he is?" You asked them.

"We can't take you to him right now, we need more information, and we're not scared to force answers out of you." The brown hair threatened you. As you let out a low laughter and stood up, telling them.

"I am Y/N Mikaelson, first of my name. The only witch, vampire hybrid there is. I'm thousands of years old. How the fuck do you intend to 'force answers' out of me? You mimicked the brown haired voice by the threatening part.

"Look I'm sorry for my brother. I'm Damon this is Stefan. We just really need your help. The Mikaelsons are hosting a ball tonight. And our... Friend is going, no matter what we say. She wants to get more information about them, please just go and keep them distracted so that nothing happens to her and we'll leave you alone." The taller one, no Damon begged.

"Sure." You sighted.

_________________________________________

The dress: https://pin.it/73RwkmiWq

You were getting ready at the Salvatores hiding so that their 'Friend' wouldn't know about the plan. You'd chosen a long red beautiful dress with a slit that went far up your leg. As you put on your sleeves you heard a knock on your door and Damon stepped Inside.

"Well you look good, almost as good as me." He cockily told you as you rolled your eyes.

"You ready to go?" He asked. You nodded as an answer, applying the last of your makeup. He led you up to a fancy carriage and helped you up. The ride to the mansion was tense. Damon had filled you up on everything that had happened to them in the last year and no you weren't ashamed of your husband. He did what he did.

"Well look at that were fashionably late. Why don't I go inside and you'll come in in 5 minutes?" Damon wondered.

"Yeah sure." You answered him.

After waiting for a couple minutes you stepped out of the carriage and walked towards the mansion, your body stiff with nervousness. As the doors opened you felt everyone's eyes on you. You knew this was a vampire ball and most old and intelligent vampires knew who you were. A myth, a legend.

Everything seemed to stop when you locked eyes with Klaus who had seemed to be making a toast. A loud crash sounded through the ballroom when he dropped the glass in his hand and ran to you. Wrapping his arm about you, your lips met. It was a soft kiss, but with something in the background, a promise for more. When the two of you pulled apart, you saw Rebekah, your best friend walk towards you. You quickly pulled her in, even though Klaus wouldn't let go of your hand.

________________________________________

When the ball was finally over Klaus dragged you with him to his painting studio. Everywhere there were paintings of you and you felt your eyes tear up.

"Hey, don't cry love." He told you, wiping the tears of your face.

"We have so much to talk about." You sobbed.

"I think that can wait, love" he said pushing you against the wall and pressing his lips against yours.

#tvd fic #yn x tvd #tvd fanfiction #tvd fluff #reader x klaus mikaelson #Yn x klaus Mikaelson #you x Klaus mikaelson #the mikaelsons #the Mikaelsons x reader #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x oc #klaus mikaelson x y/n #klaus x reader #klaus x oc #klaus x y/n

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le0n-ardo · 9 days ago

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In a relationship with 💜 Donatello 💜 - SFW and Suggestive Headcanons/ficlet

Disclaimer: all my writings contemplate the turtles aged up at about their late 20s, with the reader at the same age range. Your media consumption is your own responsibility ✨ dividers by @/cafekitsune

More Ninja Turtle headcanons in my masterlist!

Donnie approached his feelings for you like he would anything else - basing himself off of facts and logic. He didn't make a big deal before he was sure of his feelings, and even then, it was... well, it was very him.

Whenever he was first around you, Donatello didn't make much of any of your interactions. You were friendly, you asked good questions, and he could tell you genuinely cared about him and his brothers. You posed no threat and you didn't make any trouble, and soon his cool tolerance became a real enjoyment of your company.

After some weeks, Donatello began to notice some things were different. His cheeks would get warm, his heart rate would accelerate without any mental strain or physical activity. One day, when everything was calm in the lair, Donatello made his way to his computers and gadgets not long after you'd left and he measured his vitals.

"Mhmm, yep, I suspected that," Donnie commented out loud as he cross-referenced his findings.

"What's that, bro?" Mikey asked from nearby.

"I'm in love with her," Donatello answered calmly, referring to you. He was so calm he very well could have been answering Mikey that he wanted his pizza with the usual pepperoni. Meanwhile, Mikey choked on the slice he was eating after Donnie's declaration, Raphael snickered a brief "Good luck with that," and Leonardo shrugged it off, figuring things would take their course.

To his brothers' surprise, Donnie was really forward with you, but once they saw how accepting he was of his own feelings (they were, after all, backed up by natural bodily reactions that proved how much he was into you), they lowkey began to worry Donatello would just up and confess to you the next time he saw you.

He didn't, but that didn't stop his brothers from waging bets.

Donnie's main form of courtship was gift giving. He started by giving you a beacon you could use to signal him (and the turtles) if you were ever in trouble and needed his help. The next gift was an augment to that same beacon that would pinpoint the location of the lair so that you could always find your way to him if you ever needed or wanted to go.

Many gifts in the form of gadgets and devices followed, but when Donnie finally confessed to you and asked you if you felt the same, he gave you a turtle he'd fashioned from scrap metal from his other gadgets, mostly things he'd built for his brothers or this mission or another. It was the cutest little metal turtle, barely half the size of your palm.

Now that you and Donatello are together, you've become as much part of the lair as Mikey's pizza boxes, and you're always found wherever Donnie is. Your favorite thing is to sit on his lap and let him cradle you while he works on whatever he's working on at the moment.

You're both silent while he works, just enjoying each other's proximity.

But Donatello doesn't mind a few distractions from his work, especially if it's in the form of you sitting on his lap 👀 Whether it's a little smooch here and there or a full make out, Donnie's become very fond of your time spent "working" together.

"Alright, dear, let me just finish this up," you've heard him say many times now.

All you have to do is pout a little and get really close to him, and Donatello will forget what he was doing.

He doesn't mind you watching him while he trains, but whenever it's just him and his bo staff in the dojo, his acknowledgement of you will be less common than when h's working on a gadget. You quickly decided which of the two was your favorite.

One time, he asked if you wanted to learn to use the bo staff. You accepted and he taught you for about an hour, but you wound up bonking his head with it.

To show you he was okay with it, he showered you with a lot of kisses and reassurance. You did have the dojo to yourselves that night, after all 😉

Donatello easily comes across as the smart one among his brothers, and he very well is. It's an image he feels he has to uphold in front of you, but when he finally shows you his silly side, that's when you finally know he's in it for the long run.

It started off by him being silly with his brothers while you were around, but soon, he beegan being silly with you two.

When you're together, you can be total goofballs, not just when you're chilling, but your make outs are also decorated by lots of giggles here and there too.

Donatello is the perfect balance between silly and serious, and certainly between loving and naughty.

April loves to tease you both, but specifically you. She knows Donnie and obviously knows what you see in him, but it won't stop her from a little friendly banter.

"Wow, he must be amazing in bed," April rolled her eyes one time.

"He is," was all you needed to say.

April and you wound up looking at each other like 👀

But most importantly, Donatello is incredibly romantic. He prioritizees your well-being and always checks up on you, and when you're around, he'll always show his affection for you either by verbally checking in on you or by kissing the top of your head before he continues whatever he's doing.

"I think you'll find this little gadget particularly appealing," Donatello's excitement peered through his voice so obviously, you wouldn't even try to make a double entendre off of his statement.

You were so used to seeing him at the lair that seeing him on top of a building almost seemed like going against the rules, but there you were on that clear night. It was a big city, so you held no hope for seeing any stars, but the wind blew nicely and the temperature was comfortable, and you were with Donnie, so you could ask for nothing else.

"Can you please just tell me what this is about?" You walked up to him as he had his back turned on you, gently brushing your hand up his arm while he kept his eyes glued to his computer as he gently took a few steps towards whatever gizmo he was hiding under a sheet.

"Well, you won't be surprised to hear I remember everything you tell me about everything that's important to you," Donnie began.

"Go on," you prompted.

Donatello then holstered his tablet and pulled the sheet off the mysterious device, and at first glance, it seemed like it was a telescope.

"Well, I vividly remember you mentioning you liked the planet Saturn," he continued. "I have run calculations and, well, with the telescope at this very angle--" he stopped himself to adjust it no more than two degress, then looked at you again, "you should be able to see it."

You looked at the telescope, incredulous, and then at him again. "You didn't build that by yourself."

"I did."

"It's a telescope that'll help me see another planet,"you added.

"Yep."

"And you built it from scratch because I mentioned months ago that Saturn's rings are pretty."

Donatello gestured at the telescope again. "See for yourself."

With a gentle smile, you walked up and bent over to press your right eye up to the telescope, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear to get it out of the way. The wind around you caressed you softly, almost poetically, but it wouldn't compare to the feeling of Donatello's hand gently brushing up your back as you looked into the telescope he'd built just for you. The image of Saturn was blurry, and yet, you could see clear as day that it was right there, and you could even see a few bright dots around it shining, not sure if they were stars or moons, but most likely the latter.

"Donnie..." You felt your breath escaping you. It inevitably made you fuzzy inside to think that, with just your eye and a telescope, you were gazing upon a planet. A planet!

"Neat, huh?" You could hear the little smirk in Donatello's voice.

You straightened your back and looked at him, your whole gaze soft as you laid eyes on your beloved. You pressed your body to his and delicately cupped his face with your hands, finding his features warm and familiar despite him being quite different from a human.

"Donnie, I don't know what to say," you said softly.

He chuckled. "Go on, keep looking."

"No, I," you continued. "It's beautiful, but I... I kinda just wanna see you right now."

"Oh, heh," Donatello chuckled. "I don't compare to the most visually striking planet of our solar system."

"Don't you say that," you perked up on your toes and kissed Donatello's lips, breaking it to look him in the eyes. "You're all I ever want to look at."

Donnie wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tight. "Ditto."

You can see my masterlist for more if you want!

Reblogs are appreciated! 💜

#bayverse tmnt #tmnt bayverse #bayverse donnie x reader #bayverse donatello x reader #bayverse donatello #tmnt donatello #donatello hamato #tmnt donatello x reader #tmnt aged up #donnie x reader #tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt x reader

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deadghosy · 6 months ago

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💋 MATTHEO WITH A FRIEND WHO IS CUNTY 💋

Pair: platonic! Mattheo riddle x fem! Reader

Mentions: drugs mostly.

A/N: would recommend any Ayesha song while reading this to get in the mood. You can ignore the song I choose😋💕 I appreciate reblogs, comments, and such as likes.

Most likely you two verbal argue a lot to the point mattheo wants strangle you, but the thing is you’re winning every single argument.

You bedazzle your school uniform which makes people turn their heads. Whispering how ��disturbing” your uniform looks. But you honestly couldn’t give a fuck. Mattheo thinks it cool so it doesn’t matter.

You and mattheo are like thing 1 & 2. You two are double trouble. 😭

Random small insults at each other or just throwing things is soooo on the table.

“I can't help imagining how much awesomer the world would be if your dad had just pulled out.” You said while filing your nails. You couldn’t give a shit what Mattheo was ranting about since he got into another fight. Mattheo then threw his black shoe at you. “Oh you bitch!” You yelled ready to throw a glass vase at him

Theodore and Enzo had to hold you two back as mattheo was smiling crazily whilst you were cursing him out in every book. A vein popping out as you thrown the vase and it barely missed the poor riddle.

You and Mattheo smoking and rolling blunts at night are the best nights. Because all you two do is laugh at anything and make fun of people passing by the window.

What Mattheo likes about you is your quick insults and comebacks if someone tries you.

“I don't know what your problem is, but I'm guessing it's hard to pronounce.” You say shoulder checking a girl that had tried to start a fight with you. Mattheo was from afar smoking with a grin. The girl then tried to punch you from behind only for you to flip her on her damn back. You’re muggle born, so why not show what a muggle born can do.

After that Mattheo who also do things muggle ways, asked you if you can teach him. You said yes because he’s your homie.

During dinner with friends, you sipped your glass with an annoyed face stuck to your face. You didn’t want to be here since you could’ve been sleep while blasting music. Mattheo noticed this and almost bursted out laughing. But if you caught him you would’ve stomped on his foot hard with your high heel.

Slytherin parties are so poppin' with how you got the good stash of drugs and weed. You’re nicked name the “drug queen.”

I imagine you and mattheo just standing in class. You both having crossed arms looking like you just woke up pissed. You two are the iconic duo.

Usual you two just hit each other out of nowhere. Small fights, nothing too big. But someone is always there to watch it go down.

“Do you ever wonder what life would be like if you’d gotten enough oxygen at birth?” Mattheo rolled his eyes before flipping the hood of your cloak on your head. “Hey!” “Shut up bitch.” That’s when you elbowed his stomach, making him knee to the ground. Draco from afar watching that, sighed and walked away.

When you guys didn’t have to wear the uniforms. You best bet you wore 00’s clothes and juicy couture. Most girls wanted to know what fashion you were wearing and most were just hating bitches.

You walked into the common room wearing juicy couture. Mattheo looked up from his phone, annoyed at how you haven’t answered his messages. “Yo, you haven’t been answering my calls or texts bitch.” You roll your eyes sitting next to him on the couch. “Well I’m sorry that I can fashionably late.” You say with annoyance dripping from your lips. “Fuck is you wearing?” Mattheo had now noticed what you were wearing. You smile tugging at your top. “Juicy couture.” “You look like a whore.”

You blocked mattheo and never talked to him until he grew a pair and apologized. Which he did since you are his only close female friend he ever had.

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kithtaehyung · 19 days ago

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— ryen’s tumblr wrapped 2024

i didn’t even know these were a thing but i did notice that tumblr wasn’t doing those wrapped posts, so thank you to @yoonia and @jjungkookislife for tagging me so i could join! fashionably late but i’m slidin’ through the door :D

before we get to the stats, i just wanted to give a huge thank you to everyone that’s been here with me in 2024. many things happened, both on and off this blog, so to know who’s a real one and either stuck with me or trusted me makes me happy and at peace. there’s a lot i haven’t said, but just know that i love you all and am grateful for the kindness and support. all the messages, reblogs, comments, tags, etc. kept my spirit alive, and i hope anything i’ve shared has given you some modicum of love, hope, home. let’s get to it!

— kithtaehyung 2024 wrapped

FIRST FIC OF 2024: broken, pt. 2 (3tan) (myg) ; 240209 ; 1,728 notes

the current, most recent part of the main 3tan storyline. this one broke me, put me back together, then broke me again. the mental strain of writing both broken pt. 1 and broken pt. 2 was one of the main reasons why i had to take this long of a break. but we’ll be back to the main storyline in 2025!

series notes: idr but it's a number!!!!

MOST POPULAR FIC OF 2024: minted: part one (myg) ; 240805 | 2,835 notes

was absolutely nervous to post this one because it’s incredibly different from the rest of “the ryenverse” as y’all call it, but the reception? holy crap! y’all are amazing and have been incredibly kind and supportive. i’m so glad we can all scream about gangster mint-haired yoongi together now.

series notes: 5,163 total | part two: 1,321 | part three: 1,007

LAST FIC OF 2024: holiday (3tan) (myg) ; 241227 ; 536 notes

the yearning for these two was hurting us so badly that i spewed out a whole 8.1k in a week lmfao. hope it was able to lift some end of year/holiday spirits.

2024 IN FIC RECS: (it's a goal to read more in 2025 omg.. these are all the ones from friends i'll plug for now, and all the fics sent to the artist drop channel in our server!) éffleurer (ksj) - @sugaurora not yet (myg) & substance (knj) - @newmittens obsidian (myg) - @sailoryooons cyberslut (myg) - @kimnjss party on you (jhs) - @here2bbtstrash in motion (jjk) - @yoonia lover to lean on (pjm) - @sketchguk no strings (pjm) & the holi-date (kth) - @kpopfanfictrash moonlit throne (myg) - @hobidreams miracle of the season (jjk) - @cybrsan midnight (jjk) - @leahsfavefics crystallized (ksj, myg) - @floralseokjin server artist drops: friendcation (myg) - @kingofbodyrolls i will come to you (ksj) - @/kingofbodyrolls whalien52 (pjm) - @/kingofbodyrolls end of the world (myg) - @/kingofbodyrolls i'm not sure?! (pjm, kth, jjk) - @melancholy-of-nadia infatuation (myg) - @/melancholy-of-nadia love you lately (myg, knj, pjm) - @/melancholy-of-nadia too high (myg, jhs) - @ysljoon whirlwind (myg) - @/ysljoon midnight snacks (kth) - @xiumya the moon goddess's chosen (myg) - @army93bangya gods of the dark (myg) - @/sailoryooons need you to be sure (kth) - @yoongimain route 613 (knj, myg, vmin) - @daegudrama elemental (jjk) - @/kpopfanfictrash txt - a night out at the club - @jettithink risky business (jhs) - @jaysdimples what the moon saw (myg) - @violetsiren90

2025 PROJECTS:

ot7 releases: release at least one fic or drabble for every member!

open source fic rec form: a form for both writers and readers to submit their fics or recs so we can all have a centralized list.

3tan physical copies: get these babies out in the world! i know y’all have been wanting them so i’ll try.

3tan finale: finish out the main 3tan storyline. this is gonna destroy me in every way possible, but i think i can do it. we’ll make it through.

what a damn year! dunno how we managed to do all of this in 2024 but i'm grateful y'all are still here or ventured through the blog at some point. thank you all again!

this was so late so I’m assuming i’m the last to do it, but if you see this and wanna consider yourself tagged then be my guest!

#woohoo we have a 2024 wrapped!#ty ty dia and b for tagging!#2024 wrapped #*ryenfictalk #ryenwrites #bts fic

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idontknowanyonesblog · 7 months ago

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I’m not talking to you. Pt.1

Bumblebee x reader (Reader is mentioned as a girl once I think but other than that it’s mostly gn)

When you take your car to pick up a guy on a date, Bumblebee starts to act up. You decide to give him the silent treatment for ruining your chances and night until you realize that you really do need him

There’s probably bad grammar in this cus im not the best at things like that

You practically jumped out of your bed when a guy from your science class asked you out. You two were paired for a project a few weeks ago and became friends which you were really happy about. He was cute, smart and funny, what more could you want? You told him that you’d pick him up at his place and drive to a local restaurant to grad dinner. You got ready in a pretty outfit and went to your garage to get your car. That pretty yellow and black Camaro in amazing condition, just waiting for you in the garage. “She looks just like a dream~

The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen!”

The car radio buzzed and the engine revved. A small blush tinted your cheeks as you patted the hood of the car. “Thank you Bee, so you’ll never guess what just happened! I’m going on a date with this super cute guy from my science class!” You smiled cheerfully but your smile quickly fell as the car shut off. What the hell? Bumblebee never did that to you so why would he randomly do it now? “Oh don’t be like that Bumblebee. Anyway I gotta hurry so please just be good…” You asked him in a pleading voice. After a few seconds the engine turned back on and the driver side door opened. you smiled again and quickly hopped in. He backed out of the garage quickly and sped down the rode, a lot faster than the speed limit on your street was. You grabbed the steering wheel tightly. “Jesus Christ Bee slow down!” You said in nervous voice. The last thing Bumblebee wanted to do was hurt you so he did slow down a bit. You gave him the address to drive to so that’s where he went. It took a bit longer than you thought but you could’ve sworn Bumblebee did a few circles around some neighbourhood’s. Once you got to the guys place you told Bee to be normal. The passenger door opened and a tall guy with brown hair and glasses sat down beside you.

“Hi Oliver! Sorry it took so long I uh…got a bit lost on the way here.” You said that last part with a bit on annoyance as you looked at the car radio with a warning glance. “Don’t worry about it, your car is uh…kinda old fashioned don’t you think? I mean it’s nice but I’m more into modern things.” Oh god. You prayed to the heavens with all your faith that Bumblebee wouldn’t act up because of that comment but unfortunately not all prayers can be answered. The passenger seat jerked forward and the radio made a loud static sound. The engine rumbled before the car aggressively reversed out of the driveway. You gripped the steering wheel with all your strength before turning to look at Oliver. “I’m so sorry! My cars been acting up super weirdly lately, I’m taking it in the get it serviced soon.” You apologized to the poor boy and gritted your teeth. “It’s fine, things happen so don’t worry.” Oliver said back to you and gave you a nervous smile. The drive to the restaurant was decent except that every time Oliver complemented you his seat jerked back or forward aggressively. The dinner itself went well, the food was good and the conversation was great. He was a nice guy with a good personality. On the ride home the stereo kept turning off and on and his seat was acting up more often. You thanked God his house was now a block away cus if this guy kept talking to you, Bumblebee would’ve crashed himself just to shut Oliver up. Once you got back to Oliver’s place, he kissed your cheek and went to kiss you on the lips before the car horn honked loudly. He jumped back and chuckled awkwardly before saying his goodbyes.

The drive back to your house was well…silent. Bumblebee didn’t dare make a peep when he noticed how furious you really were. As you drove out of town towards your house you spotted an old junkyard. “Pull over into the junkyard. Now.” Were your only words. He did just as asked without hesitation. Once he parked you got up and slammed the door shut before standing in front of the car and crossing your arms. “Well, go on. Transform, there’s no one here except for me and you.” You said in an irritated tone as he began to transform into his normal self. He looked a bit guilty and embarrassed as he looked at the ground and then at you. “What the hell is your problem Bee!? I had a HIGH chances with that guy, VERY VERY VERY HIGH CHANCES! And you blew it! God damn it Bee, I just- I don’t know what to do with you anymore!” You began to yell at him, your anger rising higher by the second. “Sorry *static* I didn’t *static* mean it-“ His radio buzzed out as you looked at you with puppy dog eyes. He made a sad little wiring sound as he looked down at you. Your expression slightly softened as you say how guilty he looked. A small sigh left your lips as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Just please take me back home…” You mumbled before he turned back into his car form and opened the door for you to get in. The entire ride home was silent exercised for soft radio static in the background and occasionally his radio picking up nearby channels for a moment and then cutting out once more.

When you got home you just went upstairs without a word. The next day Bumblebee didn’t see you at all, and the day after that, and the day after that. It had been 3 days now since you talked to Bumblebee and in that 3 days Oliver kept talking to you and complementing you until you found out he was also talking to multiple other girls. What an asshole, you were more angry than sad but tears still welled in your eyes as you found this out. You decided to suck it up and finally go and talk to Bumblebee, he always knew what to do and you owed each other an apology. “Hey Bee…I’m really sorry for yelling at you, I shouldn’t have done that I was just so upset and it wasn’t worth it because in the end that guy is a stupid jerk cus I found out he’s been talking to other girls this whole time and-“ The more you rambled on about everything the more heart broken Bumblebee felt. How could someone do that to you? Finally he transformed into his robot form and kneeled down to you. You ran into him and hugged him as tightly as possibly and he gently hugged you back. “I’m sorry too *static* I shouldn’t have *static* done that.” His radio crackled out. For the next little while you opened up about a lot of things and he listened to everything you had to say. As much as he wanted to confess his feelings, he knew this wouldn’t be the best time to do it so maybe he’ll do to soon…

Thanks for reading and thanks for all your guys support I really appreciate it❤️

Part.2 where bumblebee confesses to reader will be coming soon and it’ll probably be a lot shorter than this.

#writers on tumblr #foryoupage #transformers #idk how to tag this #foryopage #transformers bayverse #bumblebee x reader #bayverse transformers #transformers x reader #transformers x human #optimus prime #tmnt bayverse #bayverse drift #bayverse crosshairs #cod x reader

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dirtyvulture · 2 years ago

Text

Natasha Romanoff x GP!Virgin!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Requested by anon: PowerBottom!Natasha x Shy!GP!Reader where they’ve been mutual pining for each other but one night Natasha gets a little possessive and takes reader’s virginity at a party

I am over the age of 18

Word count: 1048

AN: No pronouns used.

Parties were never really your scene, but you tag along with your friends anyway because you know your crush, Natasha Romanoff, is going to be there. Although you can't quite explain your obsession with her, as she definitely seems like the kind of woman who wouldn't look twice at someone like yourself, being in her presence makes you nervous (in a good way) and you don't mind fantasizing about something that you could have with her.

By the time you and your friends arrive--fashionably late, of course--people are already passed out on the couch, the floor sticky with spilled beer and punch, and the bass of the music is heavy enough to make your whole body vibrate.

You accept a red solo cup of jungle juice, taking a cautious swig and your gag reflex activates at the mix of random fruit flavors and alcohol. You abandon your cup on the first table you find, looking around anxiously for your friends who already have seemed to ditch you.

"Lost, honey?"

"Hmm?" You can't believe another human at this party is even acknowledging your existence when you turn to see a black-haired girl waving at you.

"You look like you'd rather be anywhere else than here," she says, stalking up to you and coming so close that you take a step back to prevent her chest from touching you.

"Uh..." Part of you wants to be honest, and part of you wants to fit in.

"You want to go upstairs? It's a lot quieter," the girl says, brushing her hand up your arm.

"Oh, there you are, Y/N."

Relief fills you when you hear someone call your name, but then you register that it's not the voice of one of your friends. Natasha Romanoff is suddenly by your side, looping her arm in yours and tugging you towards her.

"Not interrupting anything, am I?" Natasha asks, as the black-haired girl gawks at the physical contact between you. You're so shocked that Natasha is actually touching you that you don't give her an immediate answer.

"No, not at all," the girl mumbles.

"Good. Come with me, Y/N."

You don't argue, obediently following Natasha up the stairs and into the first room you pass. Now that you think about it, you're not even sure who's house this is, or if you're even allowed up here. Before you can ask Natasha, she shoves you into a chair and locks the door behind her.

"Who was that?" Natasha asks.

"I don't know."

"She looked like she wanted to eat you," Natasha comments, coming back to you and putting her hands on the armrests and leaning forward until her cleavage is right in your face. You gulp and force your eyes up to meet hers. "But you don't want that, right?"

"No, no, I do enjoy being alive and in one piece," you answer nervously.

"Not like that." Natasha chuckles at your innocence.

"What do you mean?"

"She wanted to suck your dick." Hearing the filthy word come out of Natasha's mouth makes your stomach twist. "But I think I get the honors of being your first, right?"

"I...I'm not--"

"A virgin? You don't have to lie to me, it's nothing to be ashamed about." Natasha drops to her knees and your eyes widen as she reaches for your belt and undoes the buckle.

"Natasha..." You're practically squirming in the chair with her hands so close to your crotch. While she's right that you are a virgin and have never fucked anything other than your hand or the toy hiding in your bedroom nightstand, you're excited and terrified for her to be your first. What if you don't last as long as she wants, or make a big mess?

"Tell me to stop if you don't want me," she says, her fingers brushing over the bulge in your jeans.

"I--Yes, yes I want you," you admit pitifully.

"Good." You lift your butt up so she can pull your jeans down and you feel the heat bloom in your face when she lowers your boxers and exposes you to her. Both of you stare down at your cock that pulses against your thigh; it's not at its full hardness yet, but you have a feeling Natasha can help you with that very soon.

Natasha wraps her hand around your cock and starts to pump it. Your thighs tense at the pressure and the warmth of her skin. If this is what her hand feels like, you don't think you'll last long with any other body part. You feel yourself go light-headed as the blood rushes down to your cock and makes it grow.

"Do you want to cum on my face or in my mouth?" Natasha asks suddenly, her hand gliding faster up and down your cock as your pre-cum leaks out to lubricate it.

"What?" You're so overwhelmed by the choices and the current stimulation that you fear you'll release without giving her a proper answer.

Natasha shrugs, then leans forward and wraps her lips around the head of your cock. The heat of her mouth is so intense you feel yourself practically melt, your head tipping backward and painfully hitting the top of the chair.

"Oh, fuck. Oh my God," you pant, your hands shooting down into her red hair as you try and push her mouth further down your cock. Her tongue circles your head a few times to gather every taste of you she can get and your hips tremble uncontrollably. "Natasha, I--"

Her fingers dig into your thighs as she holds you down and slowly inches you into the silkiness of your throat and you lose all control without warning. You moan as spurts of cum burst from your cock, and Natasha breathes hard from her nose to swallow every last drop. She licks at your cock until the sensitivity is too much and you yank at her hair to pull her off.

She leans back and wipes her lips with a triumphant grin on her face, while you want to die from how quickly you came.

"Don't be so disappointed, baby. Practice makes perfect, right?"

And you gladly spend the rest of the party in that room with Natasha, learning how to make it up to her.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #g!p #natasha romanoff x reader

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queen-of-the-avengers · 8 months ago

Text

Home Is Where The Heart Is

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warnings: angst, fluff

Summary: Just because you're brought back to him doesn't mean you're going to stop doing what you love. You tried to make a life for yourself by going to college for fashion design. You want to keep normalcy even though you're far from it.

Between Love and Hate Masterlist

Squares Filled: image prompt (U1) (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Then

After promising yourself you’d read more this year, you decided to read a few chapters every night before bed. You were sitting in the comfortable reading chair your grandma let you have when she got sick. She used to sit on this thing and read to you all the time, now it was your turn to sit and read to her. The only noise was coming from the TV where you put on a YouTube video of rain sounds. It wasn’t raining but with that video, it felt like it. You picked up your glass of wine and took a small sip just as you finished chapter five.

Someone knocked on your front door loudly, causing you to spill your wine in shock. Only a few drops but if you let the stain sit, you were never going to get it out. Who could be knocking at your door this late at night? You set the wine and book down before you walked to the front door. You peered through the peephole but it was completely black which meant that whoever was on the other side was covering it.

“Who is it?”

“Bucky.”

You practically ripped the door off the hinges once you heard his voice. He was leaning against the door frame, blood all over his clothes. He was hurt and if the blood didn’t tell you that, his pained expression did. Bucky came crashing inside but you caught him before he could fall to the ground. He was a very heavy man but you did your best to hold him up. You didn’t care if blood got on your clothes.

“Bucky, are you okay? Shit, I should take you to a hospital.”

“No hospital,” he shook his head.

“Bucky…”

“I said no,” he said again, this time a lot firmer.

“Fine. Come on.” You dragged him to your bedroom and let him lie down while you prepared to take care of him. “Don’t move.”

You ran into your adjoining bathroom and grabbed whatever you could find that might help him before rejoining his side on the bed. When you did, he had his shirt off. Even with all the bruises and cuts, he still looked like an angel to you. An angel marred by humanity. An angel with black wings. You sat next to him on the bed and used gauze to start cleaning the blood off his skin.

“What happened to you?” He refused to answer you. It was always like this. This wasn’t the first time he’s gotten hurt like this. “Bucky, please tell me what happened to you.” You pressed the gauze against one of his wounds and he hissed in pain, causing you to wince as if you were the one who was hurt. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I’m sorry for showing up like this.”

The more you took care of him, the more tears welled in your eyes.

“You’re always getting hurt,” you sniffled. “Where do you go? What do you do?”

“Let’s just say some men I talked to didn’t like what I had to say. It got physical.”

“Where are they?”

“Right where I left them,” he chuckled.

Once his wounds have stopped bleeding, you carefully cleaned them with a damp rag and some antiseptic.

“Are you going to tell me what you do for work?”

“No,” he said quietly.

“Do you not trust me?”

“If you can believe it, you’re one of the few I trust right now.”

“Do you not love me?”

He reached up and caressed your cheek. You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes slightly.

“It’s because I love you that I can’t involve you in this.”

You bandaged his wounds as best as you could, and while you were throwing everything away, Bucky got comfortable in your bed. You joined his side and slipped underneath the covers. You carefully laid your head on his chest, the part that didn’t hurt.

“You know I worry about you, right?”

“I wish you wouldn’t. You don’t need to worry about someone like me.”

You smiled and kissed the tip of his nose delicately.

“I worry about the people I love.”

Bucky gripped your jaw gently and kissed you. Bucky was definitely keeping secrets from you but you decided to put that on the back burner for tonight. That night, all you needed was Bucky.

Now

You’re enjoying a quiet morning eating breakfast in the kitchen when your phone goes off. It’s a message from an unknown number. You look at the chef to see her engrossed in her duties, and you pick up your phone to see who could this message be from.

UNKNOWN: Hey, it’s Gio. I’m hoping I made a good enough impression for you not to forget me already. YOU: Hey, Gio! No, I didn't forget you. GIO: Good. Look, I wanted to check in on you after everything that happened at school with the shooting. You’ve been gone for a while YOU: Yeah, I needed a week to calm down after all that. I’m okay, though. GIO: Glad to hear it. Are you going to be in school today?

You bite your lip nervously. Bucky wouldn’t like it if you stepped one foot outside this mansion without him. Fuck that! He’s not the boss of you! He can’t keep you prisoner here. Go to school if you want to go to school.

YOU: Yes, I am. GIO: Cool! I look forward to seeing you in class :)

You finish breakfast before heading upstairs and getting dressed. There is a reason you’re in college. There’s a reason why you’re taking fashion design classes. You’re not going to let someone like Bucky take that away from you. After getting dressed in something warm, you head downstairs. You’re looking at your phone so you don’t see Bucky before you run right into him. He grips your shoulders to prevent you from falling, and you look up at him in shock.

“Sorry.”

“Where are you going?”

“School.”

“You can do school here.”

“Not for the classes I need to be in person for, and since you wrecked my car, I need to leave now to catch the bus.”

Bucky’s jaw ticks in anger or annoyance, you’re not sure. You can practically see the cogs turning in his head. He rolls his eyes at losing his inner battle.

“Fine, I’ll take you to school.”

“With no bodyguards. I don’t need Sam and Steve lingering in the classes like weirdos.”

“Only if you promise not to run.”

“I thought you liked chasing me.” Bucky smirks slightly but decides against saying anything else. You finally have time to see what he’s wearing and your mouth waters when you see his very loose gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips. No! Bad girl! Don’t think about that! But he’s so delicious and you really do miss the way his body feels against yours. Don’t make me smack you. Fine. “I’ll wait by the car while you get dressed. There’s no way you’re leaving the house wearing that.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he smirks.

God damn it. He leaves while you wait by one of his cars. You’re not sure which one he is going to take since he has about a million of them inside his garage. He joins your side wearing a three-piece suit. He must be going to the office today. You’re not sure if you prefer him wearing sweatpants or in a suit. Sweatpants. Definitely sweatpants. No shirt. Obviously.

He picks the Range Rover and you climb into the passenger seat. He never lets you drive now or when you two were dating. He often claims that you always have been and will always be his Passenger Princess. Not that you minded much because it gave you the opportunity to stare at him. Ahem. Admire. Apparently, there’s a difference.

“Lose something over here, pisică?” he smirks. You snap your eyes forward and pretend like you aren’t admiring how good he looks. You look in the mirror and see another black SUV trailing behind that no doubt has Steve and Sam in. “What are you going to school for?”

This is a safe topic to discuss and you relax in your seat.

“Fashion design. I really want to start my own line of clothes.”

“I remember you were saying something about that,” he smiles.

“Well, I only just started college. It’s a few classes while I get my general out of the way, but I like it.”

Bucky pulls up to the side of the campus where your first class is. You’re not sure what to say. You look at your phone to see you have forty-five minutes before your class starts.

“Thanks for the ride.”

You’re about to get out when he stops you.

“What time does your last class end?”

“Three.”

“I’ll pick you up then. Right here.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

You leave the car but the feeling of his eyes on you doesn’t go away. You’re about half a football field away from him when you turn and look at him. He’s still staring at you so you scurry off with a blush. He chuckles and pulls away from the school, deciding to trust you that you’ll be there when he picks you up. Your first two classes go by without a hitch and your third class is your favorite--Fashion Design 102. The classroom is set up like a lab with desks that can only fit two people. The walls are covered with fabrics, the ground splattered with paint, and a bunch of mannequins are scattered about. Gio sits at one of the long tables and smiles when he sees you.

“Rayne!”

Oh, yeah. You told him your name is Rayne. Since Bucky found you, there’s no reason to keep that secrecy. You take a seat next to him and blush slightly from embarrassment.

“My name isn’t Rayne. It’s Y/N. I was going through stuff when I told you my name, but I’m okay now. I’m sorry I lied to you.”

Gio chuckles in amusement. “It’s no problem. I know a bit about running from your past. I get it. I like Y/N better, anyway.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah. I needed time to process what happened.”

“Again, I get it,” he nods.

There’s no way you’re going to tell him that what happened was because of you. All you want to do is focus on your design class. Gio is interested in designing men’s clothing which you know he will be good at. All his sketches are amazing. The professor has people teaming up to create an article of clothing so naturally, Gio asked you to be his. Before you can start designing, you have to have sketches.

Gio wanted to make a suit while you wanted to make a dress. You two compromised and you’re making a dress. He’s picking the color and fabric while you two create the design.

“So, what’s your deal?”

“With what?” you chuckle and continue sketching.

“You’re gorgeous, there’s not secret about that. You’re funny and very smart. Last I remember, you don’t have a boyfriend, right?”

Bucky immediately comes to mind. If you were to tell Gio no, he’d kill him for sure. Technically, you never broke up with him. You just ran away. Gio sees the look on your face and chuckles in amusement.

“It’s complicated, I guess. Like I said to you before, it wouldn’t be fair to you if I couldn’t give you my all, you know?”

“Yeah, I do. Friends?”

“Yeah, friends,” you smile.

The class ends once you finish the design on sketches. You only have three classes but the fashion one takes two hours. Bucky pulls up to the meeting spot exactly at three and looks for you. He sees you walking with a man taller than you. He looks younger than Bucky and leaner than him. He still has muscle but not nearly as enough as Bucky have. You’re leaning into his side with a smile on your face, laughing at something he said. Bucky tries to let it slide that he’s standing so close to you but when Gio pulls you into a hug, his blood boils. He honks his horn and you jump away from him in shock.

“Sorry, that’s me. I gotta go,” you chuckle nervously.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You walk over to Bucky’s car and get in the passenger’s seat with a frown on your face. Bucky has a grumpy smile on his face and you roll your eyes as you put your seatbelt on.

“Don’t give me that look. I’m allowed to have friends.”

“Friends don’t touch your ass when they hug you.”

“He wasn’t.”

“Do you remember what happened to that man in my meeting?”

He doesn’t have to say the words for you to know what he means. You whip your head toward him and glare as hard as you can.

“Don’t you fucking dare. If you do, I will leave again, you’ll never find me, and we’re done.”

Bucky is silent for twenty minutes before smirking.

“Are you saying we’re not done now?”

You can’t stay mad at him. You want to be pissed at him but then he says shit like that and makes you fall for him even more. The rest of the car ride is spent in silence except for the light stream of music coming from the speakers. Bucky pulls up to his mansion and escorts you inside. The first thing you see is a trail of rose petals leading from the door to the kitchen. You gasp when you see the table set for a romantic dinner for two. Candles, flowers, hot food, and alcohol.

“What is this?”

“I figure I owed you dinner after everything.”

“You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I know. I wanted to.” Your stomach flips upside down and your heart swells in happiness. “Plus, I slaved over the stove all day for you.”

As happy as you are, you can’t help but feel sad. Bucky have proven he can be this sweet and good man, so why the hell is he in the most dangerous business? He’s messing with your head and you’re not sure what to think. Don’t think. Just be in the moment. All your problems will still be there tomorrow morning. Right. Be in the moment.

That’s what you do, and you and Bucky have a nice dinner where your problems slide into tomorrow and nothing else matters but you two. After dinner, Bucky walks to you to your room as if he’s walking you home after a date. You know what happens after a date. Bucky did the same thing after every one of yours, so you’re not sure what’s going to happen here. You stop outside your room and look into Bucky’s blue eyes.

“Thank you for dinner. It was delicious.”

Bucky reaches out and cups your jaw. You part your lips and he runs his thumb along your bottom lip. He cups the other side of your jaw and pulls you toward him. He kisses you desperately and grips your hair to keep you in place. It’s been so long since you’ve felt his lips on yours and it’s making your knees weak. He slides his tongue into your mouth to meet yours and licks every inch he can. By the time he is pulling away, your brain is numb.

“Goodnight.”

“Night,” you mumble.

It doesn’t matter how hard you try to stay away from him. You can’t.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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leesolbeesol · 8 months ago

Text

Game Face

genre: fluff, established relationship, sports au

pairing: jay x reader

warnings: barely proofread, reader is referenced as being shorter, pet names, reader wears lipgloss, kisses on cheeks and heads

word count: ~800

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Now Playing: TFW

You finish sliding on the pitcher’s glove, “Do I look like a pitcher?” You ask the glove’s owner, your boyfriend, in his blue-and-white striped uniform with a matching blue hat. You push your hip out and rest a gloved hand on it as you pose. Your brief fashion high is over and you comment on the sensation of your hand inside, “This feels really gross.” You comment and scrunch up your nose and a laugh bubbles from within Jay. “It’s way too big and it feels really sweaty… The velcro is sticking to my hand.” You criticize, seeing the long strap of velcro, hooked onto the glove by just a hair, flop around as you twist your hand around within it.

“That’s because your hands are too small.” He points out as you slide off the glove. “You do look like a pitcher—a very cute pitcher.” He says.

Ignoring the flustering compliment, you continue your rant about the inside. “It’s still sweaty and gross…” You tell him, and it’s true. You can feel the buildup of sweat on the inside and you frown. “Do you even wash this thing?” You scold him and he laughs again. You swear that wearing his eye-black makes him ten times more attractive.

“Babe, you can’t,” He explains, “the leather would get all brittle and it would be ruined. It is kind of gross, though. I put spray deodorant in it sometimes,” he admits, “you asked to try it on though.”

“I didn’t know it was gross when I asked!” You quip and Jay’s phone sounds with a familiar ding.

He glances down at his phone and sees a message from one of his teammates appear on the home screen of you two. The picture is one taken of you two on the mound during a practice. “Heeseung says that I have five minutes until I have to start warm-ups.” He announces. You always like seeing him on the mound, but you’re secretly afraid that one day he’ll get hit, and so his game is a complex of emotions for you. On one hand you’re anxious for him, and on the other hand you love nothing more than seeing your person in his happiest place. He takes his blue, logo-ed hat off and puts it on your head. “For good luck.” He says.

“You need your hat, Jay. You can’t go around not having critical pieces of your uniform just because you love me.” You tease and adjust the hat on your head.

“What’s the problem? You don’t want to rep your boyfriend’s team?” He says and you open your mouth to respond, but he speaks first. “Don’t worry, love. I have others.” He assures you.

“Fine.” You give in and take the hat off to adjust the sizing on the back.

“I gotta go now, but I’ll see you in the stands, right?” He asks, knowing the answer but just hoping for your encouragement.

“You know it. I’ll be your biggest cheerleader. You could put me in the very back and I’d scream so loud you’ll be able to hear me all the way from the field.” You tell him, and he looks thoroughly content. Before he can turn to leave, you grab his face and pull it down towards you so that your lips are at the same level as his cheek. You give him a quick kiss on the cheek that leaves a faint, cherry pink stain from the lip-gloss you applied earlier that day. His eyes go wide and a smile breaks through his face. He tangles you in a hug and you can feel his baseball arms around you as he squeezes you tight, and you feel his lips press to your head. His eye black is just slightly smudged from the gesture.

When he lets you go, he breaks the terrible news. “I have to go now, love. I’ll be late otherwise.” You understand.

“I know.” You consider telling him about the slight stain on his cheek from your kiss. You decide it would be funnier to get teased by his teammates and have him complain about it to you later. With a smile that he doesn’t know is mischievous, you wish him good luck as he leaves the room. If they don’t point it out, you and the stands will get to see Jay with his fiercest game face and a kiss mark on his cheek. And with a wink, he’s gone. Gone off to the cheering field and off to the game. Just as fast, you rush out of the room to the fans' section, eager to catch sight of Jay again.

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ramble: this is my first time putting pictures (all from pinterest, credit to the orginal owners!) and it took me way too long to figure out how and im sure that there's a better way but whatever im having fun. i dont know why theyre so low quality though...

#jay #jay enha #jay enhypen #jay fluff #jay enha fluff #jay enhypen fluff #enha #enha fluff #enhypen fluff #jay enhypen x reader #jay x reader #enhypen x reader #baseball au #sports au

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devilstruly · 8 months ago

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TRUE BEAUTY

pairing - kuroo tetsuro x gn. reader

includes - mutual pining, not really confessing but also not being very subtle about it either, late night talking, commenting on the plot of a kdrama. y/n mentioned once but i promise i had a good reason

a/n - this is mostly inspired by my internal monologue while watching the show, ergo the reader is rooting for seo-jun (i'm biased sorry). also reader is ticklish. i know it's another kuroo one i'm sorry but this man is so ugh

1.14 am

‘That's fucking adorable! Fuckkkk, why is he so cute! Oh my god!’

You found yourself snuggled into Kuroo's side comfortably, with his arm draped over the back of the couch and a blanket shared between the two of you.

‘What the fuck is cute about that?!’ He rolled his eyes at your reaction, his arm flailing around to emphasize his words.

‘He's making up rumors about them dating!’

‘Yeah because he likes her! He just doesn't know how to express his feelings, okay? He's traumatized.’

‘Everyone is traumatized, that's not an excuse. Plus, don't you always say it's best to be upfront about things?’

‘He is being upfront about it! She's just oblivious!’

'Like you would know.'

Kuroo turned his head to the side slightly so he could mumble a response, quietly enough so that you couldn't pick up on it.

‘What was that?’

‘Nothing. I just can't believe you're making excuses for that asshole.’

Hadn't it been for you being very deeply invested into the drama as well, you would definitely giggle at Kuroo's persistence.

But alas, that wasn't the case.

‘That's because he has a bike and good fashion sense.’

Kuroo huffed. ‘What's with you and bikes?’

While stating your answer, you shifted your position slightly so you'd be more comfortable, and in addition, almost naturally, Kuroo's arm wrapped around your shoulder to pull you closer.

‘They're cool.’ You replied with a grin, to which Kuroo huffed again. ‘Oh and, I like his eyes too. They're similar to yours.’

Not thinking much of your words, you continued to watch the show unfold, head resting on Kuroo's chest. You had almost forgotten about what you said, but Kuroo finally broke the silence after a while.

‘You like my eyes?’

Barely paying attention to the television, he now faced you fully, thankful to the darkness of the room for hiding his blush.

‘Hm? Oh yeah.’ As you finally acknowledged the proximity when you lifted your head, you could feel a blush of your own starting to creep up on your neck.

‘They're really pretty.’ You added after not being able to look away from the golden hues for god knows which time.

With a small smile you went back to your initial position, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself whilst Kuroo tried his best to process the newly received information.

2.01 am

‘No! No, you dumb fuck! Ugh!’

A loud groan echoed in the room before you covered your face with your hands in agony. Kuroo's hand was patting your back gently, though not very sincerely since he was wearing a satisfied expression as he watched the screen.

‘There there.’

‘Fuck off, you like this!’

With a huff you untangled yourself from Kuroo's limbs, scooting all the way to the other end of the couch.

‘I just think it works better!’ Kuroo himself raised his hands in defense, but his smile remained.

‘Bullshit! He is clearly the better option! He treats her so much better!’

‘But they're already dating and she loves her boyfriend. Besides, nothing's wrong with him either.’

‘No it's not, but Seo-jun is simply better.’

‘You're just biased because he has a bike.’

‘I'm not! I mean yeah that's a plus, but not that important! He even gave her the keys, come on!’

‘Oh so if it were you, you'd dump Soo-ho?’

You immediately recognized the sly undertone in Kuroo's voice and huffed whilst you turned to face him.

‘That's not what I'm saying. And she shouldn't dump him. She shouldn't be with him in the first place. Ugh, this is why relationships are dumb.’

This seemed to get the man's attention, and he readjusted his position on the couch, now barely looking at the TV.

‘You don't want a relationship?’ His tone became much softer than the previous question, which to you was a clear indicator that the conversation had suddenly become serious.

You chose to write the change off as the late hour delirium.

‘I mean…it's not that I don't want it, it's just like- not right now. I don't know. I mean if the person I like is - um - will be someone I can't imagine my life without, then I'd drop this…way of thinking.’

‘Oh.’

The one syllable Kuroo managed to get out had you turning your head towards him in confusion, only to be met with the sight of him mumbling something under his breath.

Opting not to point it out at the moment, you tried to distract him instead.

‘And you?’ His head shot up in an instant. ‘What's your take on relationships?’

Suddenly looking anywhere but you, Kuroo shifted uncomfortably in his seat, making you raise your eyebrows as a silent way of urging him to reply.

‘Uh…I don't- well- that's a lot of work that I don't have time for. But I think they're…great.’

He mentally cursed himself for his choice of words.

‘So…’ You began, a dangerously serious expression on your face. ‘...If you were to like someone that liked you back…what would you do?’

Patiently waiting for an answer, you hugged your knees to your chest and rested your cheek on top of them. Unable to formulate a reply, Kuroo blinked a couple of times before taking a deep breath and slowly letting the words leave his mouth.

‘I suppose…I would ask them out.’

‘Oh? Good to know.’ Your eyes widened in surprise, and a teasing smile graced your features before you turned your attention back towards the television.

On the contrary, Kuroo still sat frozen in place, eyes glued to your side profile.

‘Wh- what do you mean good to know?! For what?!’

‘Shhhh, I'm watching my husband.’

‘Nuh uh. Explain.’

Your attempts to distract your friend proved futile and with a frustrated sigh you defended yourself.

‘There's nothing to explain!’

‘Yes there is.’

‘Not.’

‘y/n.’

‘Tetsuro.’

‘Oh so we're on Tetsuro now?’

The sudden change in Kuroo's tone was drastic enough to cause you to tense, not turning to face him for the sake of saving youtself from a heart attack.

‘I- forget I said that.’ You blurted out once you finally mustered up the courage to look at him. As quickly as you said that you turned your head back around, failing to notice an idea flash across Kuroo's face.

Shuffling sounds reached your ears but you paid them no mind, until you felt a pair of hands tickling your sides. On instinct you squealed and flinched away, but with the man's quick reflexes it made no difference.

‘Wait wait- stop! Kuroo!’ You managed to get out between tears of laughter and uncontrollable shaking, much to Kuroo's entertainment.

‘I'll stop when you explain yourself.’ The smile on his face kept growing by each passing moment whilst your cries became louder.

‘I will! Just- stop- please!’ Your words were barely audible by this point, but Kuroo decided to be generous and simply flopped on top of you.

With his ear right above your heart, he could feel the rapid thumps and the heavy breathing whilst you tried to calm down.

It was once you finally managed to get your senses back that you became aware of your position, and so your heart rate remained quick as it was.

‘Kuroo?’

‘Hm?’

‘What are you doing?’

‘Me? Nothing ~’

Even though it was hard to see, you could practically feel the smile on his face growing. However, not minding the situation much, your hands threaded through his hair curiously and in return Kuroo became more at ease.

3.46 am

‘Kuroo.’

‘I'm sleeping.’

‘Then go to bed.’

‘Just one more episode.’

The drowsiness started enveloping him progressively, yet he made no effort to acknowledge it - and neither did you.

‘Fine.’

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsurou x y/n #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsuro fluff

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nataliesfirefly · 11 months ago

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You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F!Reader - Part 6

a/n: hey guys!! im so sorry this part has taken me so long! im currently on a trip so i havent had much time to write! but i hope this makes up for it, im super excited for yall to read this!!! also i think im going to plan for this series to have a few more chapters, probably max 9 or 10! i love it sm i really dont want it to end 😭 but anyways enjoyyy and comment what you think! and again i apologize if the smut is mid.. btw this is not proofread LMAO

series masterlist

playlist

word count: 4.9k words

warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, fingering, oral (f!receiving), p in v, angst, language, smoking, afab reader

You’re sitting in your bed, reading a magazine, when your flip phone rings. You lean forward to pick it up from the corner of the bed, wondering who could be calling you this late. You raise your eyebrows when you see that it’s Lola. You haven’t spoken to her since school got out. Nevertheless, you answer it and put the phone up to your ear.

“Lola! Hey,” You grin. “Oh my God, I’m so glad you picked up. I’m so bored around here,” She groans, and you smile even bigger at the sound of her voice on the other end. “Around where?” You ask curiously.

“My parents’. I have to babysit my younger sister all the time. It’s exhausting, really,” She moans. “I just want to like, go to a party or something. Honestly, I would even prefer to be going to classes right now instead of this.”

“Wow. That must mean it’s really bad then, huh?” You continue flipping through the magazine, your eyes scanning through the apparently trending fashion and makeup choices at the moment.

“Yes. Ugh. You’re at Saltburn, right?” She asks. “Yeah.” You reply.

“How’s that going?” Lola questions, and you hear another voice in the background that sounds like her, only higher-pitched. “No, I’m on the phone. Go away. Shoo,”

You try not to snicker at her shooing away her little sister. “It’s…” You trail off, trying to decide the right way to describe how the summer is going so far for you. “I don’t know. Different.”

“How so?” You pause and wonder if you should tell her what’s been going on. You decide it’s probably better not to and keep some things to yourself.

“I think it’s just cause we’re growing up. I mean, we graduate in less than two years.” You shrug and reach over to grab your glass of wine. “Oh God, don’t remind me. My parents are still asking me what my plans are,” She sighs loudly.

“I can’t believe it.” You shake your head and close the magazine, uninterested in the latest celebrity drama. An idea suddenly forms in your mind.

“Hey, the Cattons are throwing one of their big summer parties in a few days. I could invite you?” You suggest. You hear Lola gasp. “Really?! I’d love to go. I’ve heard so many stories about the Saltburn parties.” She makes it sound so dramatic, and you giggle.

“And you’d get a chance to see Felix,” You grin as you hear her jumping around. “Yeah, I would! You don’t need to convince me any further. I’ll be there,” She pauses. “Wait, but they’ll let me come, right?”

“Oh, of course. They like me a lot, so I’m sure they won’t mind.” You assure her. “Okay, perfect. Thank you so much, my love. I’ll let you get some sleep. See you soon!” She squeals excitedly and you roll your eyes with a smile as she hangs up.

You set down your phone and sigh, looking around your dim room.

You haven’t been able to get Farleigh out of your mind since your little… moment two nights ago. He’s not avoiding you, but he’s not being nice either. He’s gone back to teasing you and embarrassing you in front of the Cattons. You should’ve known that if you got too close, he’d pull away and return to his old ways.

But every little glance you two share has your stomach fluttering and your heart pounding. Every insult meant to hurt or offend you has the opposite effect. In some depraved way, you like when he degrades you. The past two nights, you’ve laid awake and stared up at the ceiling, trying to relive that night when he made you feel so good. Just the thought of him had your mind reeling. You would do anything just to feel that way again. You’re hooked.

You can’t just keep wallowing in these feelings. You want to talk to him, work things out, and go back to how they used to be a week ago. More importantly, you just want to be in his presence. It gives you some kind of thrill to be around him. It’s like a game of roulette to see which version of him you’ll get each time, and you love it. You crave his attention.

You climb off of your large bed and walk determinedly to your door, opening it quietly and sneaking down the hallway. It’s quite a long walk to Farleigh’s room, but you don’t care. You pass Felix’s room, then Venetia’s. Both of their lights are out, telling you that everyone in the house is probably asleep by now. You can only hope and pray that Farleigh isn’t.

You eventually find yourself standing in front of his room. Dim light peeks through from under his door, and you sigh with relief. He’s still awake. Your decision catches up to you and you realize how stupid it is that you’re about to knock on his door. You shake your head to clear your doubt, raising your hand and gently knocking.

You hear his bed shifting and footsteps following close after. You swallow nervously, your throat suddenly feeling dry. Your heart races with anticipation as he finally opens the door.

Fuck. He’s shirtless with only a pair of sweatpants on. Your eyes trail down subconsciously before you blink and look back up to his face. Is he wearing underwear?

“Hello,” He says, his grin foxlike. “I can’t sleep. Can we talk?” You ask, your voice shaky. You curse yourself for sounding nervous. He crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows. “Talk about what?” He questions.

You pause, unsure of what to say next. What were you going to talk about? He would deny any feelings towards you, so what was the point of even coming here?

“Just let me in, please.” You step forward and avoid his gaze. He steps to the side wordlessly, opening the door further to let you into his room.

You breathe in the familiar scent of that candle he’s always burning, and the scent of his cologne. It’s musky and spicy, with notes of vanilla. You tried to memorize it everytime you were close to him. You walk over to his bed and sit down on the edge, looking up at him as he closes the door behind him.

“Can I have a cigarette?” You ask, pointing to the pack sitting on his bedside table. He nods, and you carefully take one. He hands you the lighter.

He stares down at you as you light the cigarette, taking a drag from it. He chuckles to himself and you exhale, furrowing your eyebrows. “What’s funny?”

“You always said you hated the smell. Yet here you are, asking me for a cigarette,” He replies with a scoff. “Maybe you’re just a bad influence,” You shoot back, and his smile slightly fades.

You can see his eyes traveling down your body, lingering on your thighs and your bare legs. You had outgrown these sleep shorts, but you never cared because you figured no one would see you in them. Well, there goes that.

“Are we not going to talk about the other night?” You mutter. “What’s there to talk about?” He replies, and you roll your eyes. “Are you-” You pause and let out a frustrated breath. “Are you serious?” You exclaim angrily.

“You can’t blame it on being drunk this time, Farleigh.” You tell him, and he freezes, his gaze faltering downwards.

“Can we not talk about that? Let’s just…” He sighs with exasperation and sits next to you. You turn away from him, looking out the window. You decide not to press the issue, since it’s apparently too much for him to think about right now. Honestly, you aren’t even able to fully process what’s been going on between you two.

“Let’s just… talk,” He says finally, and you face him again, exhaling a small cloud of smoke. “Okay.” You shrug. It’s what you both do best: Talking. About anything and everything, despite the strange history of your relationship. You guessed that it was because you had known each other for so long, that it just came naturally. He’s just… real. He’s never pretending or putting on a façade, at least around you he’s not. Around the Cattons, he has to, because to them he’s just the wild child, the comedic relief, the American. You feel like you are the only one that gets to see the real Farleigh, and it feels like a privilege. But you know that’s not true, and you choose to believe it anyway.

“So… Our third year at Oxford,” Farleigh says. You let out a breath and raise your eyebrows. “Can’t believe it’s already been two years,” You both smile, thinking of all the good and bad memories you’ve made so far during your years at university.

“Can I be honest?” You ask, and he nods. “I’m scared.” You say simply. His eyebrows knit together. “Of what?” He replies. “Graduating. You know, I’ll probably go to graduate school or something, but I need to start making my own money. Get a job. Do adult things,” You sigh just at the thought of all the responsibilities. “I can’t be on a scholarship forever. Or have my parents pay forever,” You continue, shaking your head. “I’m putting them through enough as it is.”

Farleigh nods again with a look of understanding. “I might go back to the states. See my mom, maybe stay there for a while.” He says. You can’t help but feel a little sad at the thought of him being away for so long. You hate to admit it, but you would miss him.

“But we don’t have to worry about that right now. You’re too uptight. Let yourself have fun,” He nudges you softly. “I’m trying,” You mutter. “Well, you’re smoking. That’s one step closer,” He laughs a bit and you roll your eyes.

It goes quiet and you stare down into your lap. You can feel his eyes on you, and your heart begins to race with anticipation. That familiar tension returns in the air between you and Farleigh.

You look up slightly, his eyes meeting with yours. Your stomach churns as you look down to see his hand inching towards your thigh, eventually resting on top of it. “I know why you came here,” He says, his voice lowered.

You look back up to him. “What?” You whisper. “Don’t play dumb,” He shakes his head. “I’m not.” You reply, trying hard not to break the intense eye contact.

You gulp nervously and finally look away, your face giving you away and burning red. “Hmm,” He hums, his thumb brushing across your thigh. You try to distract yourself by pressing the cigarette out on the ashtray on his bedside table, watching the little flame burn out.

He gently reaches up and grabs your chin, tilting your head back towards him. He drags his thumb down your bottom lip as you stare into his eyes. He grins slightly before moving his hand to cup your cheek, leaning in closer until your noses brush together. You know you shouldn’t be doing this. You know Farleigh is emotionally unavailable and toxic, and he won’t ever discuss his feelings or yours. But you can’t help but melt into the kiss, his touch, his aura. It’s like he’s magnetic, pulling you in everytime you try to pull away.

Somehow, every single time he kisses you, it’s better than the first time. Your tongues intertwine as your lips move in a perfect rhythm while both of you fall back onto his bed clumsily. One of his hands tangles in your hair, and the one that was resting on your leg moves up to rest on your waist, his fingers caressing your bare skin due to your tank top riding up. He eventually shifts his position so that he’s on top of you, and you turn to lay on your back underneath him.

His kisses begin to move down to your jawline, then your neck. He sucks and licks your skin so cruelly, but you don’t want him to stop. You breathe in the scent of his hair, his curls tickling your face, and you can already feel yourself becoming weak again.

You feel his hands start to trail down your body, resting on your hips, as he moves down the bed and you peer down to see him looking up at you from between your legs. Feverish heat burns across your skin just at the sight of it.

“Wait, wait. I’ve never-“ You start, suddenly feeling nervous. “It’s okay,” Farleigh replies, his eyes soft and warm as he gazes up at you. “Just relax,” He murmurs, gently pulling down your shorts and panties at the same time, shuffling them off your legs.

Just relax, you think. Easier said than done. You’ve pictured this moment so many times in the past few days, and you can’t believe it’s becoming reality.

And of all the times you’ve fantasized about this, none of them could ever do Farleigh’s beauty justice. His dark eyes are shining with something of lust and hunger, his plush lips slightly parted and his shoulders broad and golden. His curly hair is only slightly wet from his shower earlier, yet still perfectly coiled.

He looks up at you, trying to convey something through his gaze. “So pretty,” He mutters, tracing a finger along your thigh. Your breath catches in your throat and you feel your stomach fluttering already.

He lifts your legs up and places them over his shoulders. Your heart pounds in anticipation and you can hear yourself breathing among the silence.

Farleigh leans down and presses a few kisses along your inner thigh, and you don’t know how much longer you can stand his teasing. You watch him gaze up at you through his lashes as he dips a finger into your wetness and you see the smirk that tugs at his lips. He raises his eyebrows at you and your face turns red. “Stop,” You cover your face with both hands, your stomach doing flips. You can’t handle how perfect he looks right now, even as he teases you for how soaked you are already.

“Hey, look at me,” He says, his deep voice vibrating against your skin. You let your hands fall back to your sides, smiling shyly. His expression turns more serious as he furrows his brows, slipping his finger inside of you. He moans before you even can, his head falling against your thigh.

That familiar stretch around his finger has your mind reeling as you throw your head back. He pulls it out and you whimper at the loss, until you feel his middle and ring finger on your clit. Your hands instinctively move to grasp the sheets as he strokes your bundle of nerves perfectly, letting your head fall back down to watch him. He continues to maintain eye contact and it makes you so weak.

Your brain almost turns to mush as you see him leaning down, his head buried between your legs. A moan louder than you intended leaves your mouth as you feel his tongue greedily licking a stripe up your pussy.

“Shit,” You huff, your chest heaving up and down. No one had ever given you head before, until now, so you didn’t really understand your girlfriends when they would tell you how amazing it felt. But now, you completely get it. His tongue moves in long, slow strokes and his pretty nose nudges perfectly against your clit.

He barely lifts his head so he can stare up at you to watch your reaction. You grind up against his face, your hand reaching down to grab a handful of his curls. He groans at the feeling before inserting a finger again, moving at the perfect pace along with his tongue. The combination is enough to make your legs shake. The lewd sounds of him lapping up your cum and both of your wanton moans echo throughout his room.

“Farleigh!” You almost scream his name before letting out a long, drawn out moan. He glances up at you once more, his pupils huge with lust. He moans against you as he absolutely devours you, adding a second finger in. His long fingers brush against that divine spot inside of you and you whimper helplessly, your other hand gripping his sheets as if it could help ground you somehow. That delicious heat builds in the base of your stomach, spreading like a fire.

“I’m gonna-“ You gasp for air, your chest heaving up and down. His eyes are half-lidded and he seems completely lost in the moment, just absolutely pussy drunk. “Let go,” He says, his voice deep and raspy.

And you do exactly that. The pleasure shoots through your veins like a drug, your grasp in his hair tightening and your hips rolling as you ride it out. You eventually come down from your high, letting your legs drop from his shoulders as you let out a shaky sigh, your heart still pounding against your ribs.

“Fuckk,” You breathe out, resting your head against the pillow. Farleigh crawls over you, leaning down to kiss you. The lower half of his face is covered in your slick, but you couldn’t care less. He kisses you passionately, desperately, groaning into your mouth. You can taste yourself on his lips and his tongue, and it just turns you on even more.

He pulls away, his lips hovering over yours. You look up at him and suddenly feel an indescribable desire wash over you as you stare into his deep brown eyes. It’s like you can’t get close enough to him, like you need more than everything he’s already given you. You want him inside of you. You want to feel every part of him. You want him to feel every part of you.

“Farleigh,” You whisper, reaching up to touch his face. “What is it?” He whispers back, lightly touching your own face.

“I want you,” You say. You don’t care how stupid you sound right now. This carnal desire has completely taken over you.

“In what way?” He replies, smirking smugly. “I think you know which way I mean,” You mutter. You don’t have time for his teasing, although you love it.

His expression softens and he seems to understand what you mean. “Please, I need you,” You can’t believe you’re begging for Farleigh of all people right now. You know you’ll be regretting it later. His eyes widen and he seems shocked by your confession.

“Far…” You whisper, tracing your finger along his lips. He opens his mouth to speak, hesitating slightly.

“Do you know what you do to me?” He asks, his voice soft. You look up at him and tilt your head. He takes your hand and guides it down below his waist while still looking down at you. You gasp softly when you feel that his dick is so hard underneath his sweatpants. It has to be painful. You slowly rub your hand against him and his eyebrows draw together as he stutters slightly, and it almost looks like he’s in pain.

“Baby-“ Farleigh whimpers. “Please,” You beg once again, and he nods, quickly taking his pants off and throwing them somewhere on the floor of his bedroom. You look down at his dick, and you have to keep your jaw from dropping.

It’s definitely the biggest you’ve seen, and although you haven’t seen many in your lifetime, you know he would be considered above average. It’s long, with a bit of girth to it, veiny and already leaking precum from the tip. You feel yourself starting to get nervous. You aren’t sure if you could even take all of it, but hell, you’re going to try. You hope he didn’t pick up on your reaction, because you know he would tease you over it.

He places his hands on either side of your head and leans down onto his elbows. He never takes his eyes off yours as he positions himself. You wrap your legs around his waist, letting your ankles rest on his back.

He slowly begins to slide in, and you grunt quietly at the pain. He goes a bit deeper before you panic and place a hand on his lower stomach, stopping him. “I can’t-“ You wince in pain.

“Yes, you can. You can take it,” He nods and brushes the side of your face with his fingers. He takes your hand off of his stomach gently and places your arm back onto the bed. You nod in an attempt to encourage yourself, gritting your teeth to withstand the pain. You reach up to his shoulders, resting your hands on his shoulder blades, trying to keep your nails from digging into his skin as you hold onto him.

“Fuck,” Farleigh grunts as your walls grip him tightly, sucking him in. Eventually he’s buried inside of you to the hilt, and you can feel every inch of him. You’re still trying to adjust to his size, and the pain is slowly subsiding as he groans and drops his head and closes his eyes. You press your hips up against his, trying to get him to start moving. “Far,” You mutter. You can tell he’s trying to hold back. He breathes heavily and opens his eyes again, gazing into yours.

“I’m ready,” You whisper. His eyebrows knit together as he rolls his hips slowly, causing your eyes to roll back and drawing a short moan out of you. He shudders, slightly pulling out of you before thrusting back in. You wonder how he’s so good at this as your nails dig crescent moons into his back with each slow thrust and roll of his hips. Your mouth falls open and you try to be quieter but it’s no use.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck, his curls tickling your face. He’s whimpering and moaning your name and other incoherent nonsense right into your ear. He sets a beautiful rhythm, his bed creaking underneath you as you sink into the plush of the mattress. You think you hear the headboard hitting the wall but you don’t care about the loud sounds you two are creating. You just don’t want this moment to end.

He looks back up to you and you can see he’s already fucked out. His eyes are even more glazed over than before and sex sweat forms on his brow. He whimpers helplessly and pants heavily. “You’re so good,” He breathes. “So, so good,” You could probably cum just from his words alone.

You let out a wanton moan as he hits that spot again, deep inside of you. “Oh, fuck!” You gasp and claw at his shoulders. He drops his head again, kissing your neck as he thrusts into you faster and deeper each time, hitting your spot over and over once he’s found it.

“Yeah, that’s it,” He groans against your neck and you feel tears brimming in your eyes. “Farleigh- It’s-“ You can’t seem to form words, your brain turned to sizzling hot liquid. “I know, I know,” He whimpers, his voice slightly higher pitched and breathless. You try to hold on longer, but you’re already coming undone as your orgasm hits you sooner than you expected. Your body stills and you clench even harder around him. He moans, that pained expression crossing his face once again. “Oh God,” He chokes out, his thrusts beginning to become less steady.

“Where should I-“ Farleigh pants. “Inside,” You tell him. You’re on birth control, but you don’t have the mental capacity to explain that to him or explain why. His hips stutter and he stiffens, finishing inside of you, the warm feeling spreading throughout your lower stomach. He collapses on top of you, his head on your chest, resting on the soft fabric of your shirt.

You’re already sleepy and physically exhausted from what just took place. You breathe in his scent one more time and let out a sigh, staring up at the ceiling and trying to process what you just did. Then he’s wrapping his arms around you gently before pulling out of you slowly. You grunt a bit, feeling a dull ache between your legs, but you can’t help but miss the feeling of him inside of you.

He adjusts the both of you so that you’re both laying on your side, allowing you to stretch out a bit and cuddle up to him, tucking your head in the crook of his neck. He holds you, and for a moment, it feels like a real relationship. Something you had never experienced. Something deep. Something real. And then you remember that it’s not. After this, he will go back to avoiding you and acting like he can’t stand you. You just wish that he would put his pride away and admit to you what he really feels. But what does he really feel? Are you stupid for thinking that there’s something here?

Farleigh strokes his fingers through your hair, brushing away some of the strands plastered onto your forehead by your sweat. He seems to notice your silence.

“You’re thinking too much,” He says, his voice beautifully hoarse. You sigh, relaxing your shoulders. “Am I?” You reply, your voice weaker than you thought it would be.

“Just sleep here tonight,” He mutters, resting his chin on top of your head. You so badly want to ask him to be serious and have an actual conversation with you about your… relationship.

“Okay… but we need to talk about this,” You respond quietly. He sighs and shifts a bit, careful not to move you too much. “We can in the morning,” He says, but you know that won’t happen. You’ll just have to settle for no answers to your questions for the time being.

You curl up closer to him and let your eyes close, breathing slowly and peacefully. “Goodnight,” You murmur. “Night,” He replies, sounding just as tired as you are. You drift off to sleep in Farleigh Start’s arms.

ONE YEAR EARLIER

You were usually on okay terms with Farleigh. But you remember exactly when the dislike turned into hatred.

It was right before end of term exams and Felix convinced you to go to the pub to blow off some steam and relax after all your revising. You reluctantly agreed, then regret your decision when you saw Farleigh and Sasha there.

It was pretty far into the evening and you were beginning to get sleepy. You had spaced out for a moment, staring out the window and watching the snow fall before you heard something that peaked your interest.

“I mean, Felix, you have got to settle down,” Farleigh chuckled and nudged Sasha, pointing his cigarette at Felix.

Felix grinned stupidly and shrugged. “Listen, mate. I’ve tried.” Some other friends of his joined in with the laughter.

You sat up and leaned forward, facing Farleigh. “You’re one to comment on relationships,” You said, raising an eyebrow. Everyone else sort of quieted down after hearing your words.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Farleigh rolled his eyes at you and Sasha just glared. “You and Sasha. You’re dysfunctional.” You responded, unafraid to challenge him.

“Excuse me?” Sasha looked at you like you just committed a hate crime. “Yeah. He cheats on you, you cheat on him, you get back together, blah blah blah.” You took a sip of your beer and shrugged. “It’s gone on for almost a year now. It’s exhausting,”

Farleigh chuckled. “Ohh, you want to come after my relationship?” He smirked as if he was cooking up a plan in his mind of how to humiliate you best.

“Well, I bet you would like everyone to know that you lost your virginity to Joshua Brown,” Farleigh said, loud enough for even people from other tables to hear. A small chorus of gasps echoed across the room.

“You’re desperate, easy, and sloppy. You take anyone who wants you. I guess that’s what happens when you get no attention before you go to college, hm?” He just kept going, and the whole room went silent

“I’ve seen you walk out of so many dorms at six in the morning, it’s insane. You can’t even keep a fucking man,” Farleigh’s tone was harsher and colder than you’d ever heard before. Felix was staring at you in shock and Sasha was giving you that judgemental look.

You looked around to see all the pairs of eyes on you. “Fucking hell, Farleigh,” Felix muttered, shaking his head at him.

You stood up and grabbed your bag hastily, storming out of the pub with tears in your eyes. Why was he such a bitch? Why did he hate you?

Your reputation was officially ruined. All that time, he never told anyone about your situation with Joshua. Until now. He was doing so well. The whole class thought you were an innocent and pure, high achieving student, and now what would they think? You wish you didn’t care so much about how others perceive you, but you do.

You hated Farleigh. You hated him for ruining your reputation and your image. It was impossible to get him back or do something worse, since basically everyone knew he was a slut. But he got praised for it.

Ever since that night at the pub, other students would look at you sideways and whisper things about you as if you couldn’t hear them.

Fuck you, Farleigh. You decided you were officially done with him and your weird friendship. Even if that meant having to avoid him at every cost.

taglist: @isla-finke-blog @ibimbogrl @drunkmysticsquirrel @alonia-olivia @novemilady @saltburnsworld @florkt @i-love-ptv

#farleigh start #saltburn #farleigh start x reader #farleigh x reader #farleigh x you #farleigh saltburn #farleigh smut

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thewritetofreespeech · 2 months ago

Note

hi!! can i have an scenario of the reader being insecure about her small chest (as usually royalty women have a bigger size) and Gerhard and Dali (separated) comfort her? 🤧

“You changed.” Dali commented as he noticed [Y/N] hand switched to a different dress for the party.

“Yes. This one is more flattering I think.” She replied.

Their current dress was of a similar color to the last dress, but with a much higher waistline closer to her bosom with caped sleeves. Dali was not familiar with fashion enough to know what it was called, but his opinion was that both were flattering. “If you say so. What was so un-flattering about the other dress?”

“It wasn’t that it was ‘un-flattering’ it’s just that that style is meant for someone a bit more…endowed.”

Dali glanced over at [Y/N], curious as to what they meant, and immediately understood. He knew that they were self-conscious about their small breasts. Most noble ladies tend to be more endowed, or at least fashion that illusion with their garments. Being a member of VLAD and their for of a more athletic lifestyle than most ladies, the conditions for typically creating large breasts were not in her favor. “I see. Well, this dress is much better I think.” Dali replied, instantly changing his opinion. “No one will be able to take their eyes off such fine artistry. Nor beautiful canvas it is laid on.”

[Y/N] chuckled as Dali gave her a kiss. “You really don’t mind?”

“What? That you changed dresses?” He knew what she meant but would not comment on it. “Of course not. Now, let us go. I want to show you off before the hour gets too late.” He told her, and they quickly left for the party.

Though they had been courting for sometime now, Gerhard still tried to give [Y/N] her space. Despite what people might think he did not need to be the center of attention. But to be outright ignored almost when they were together was infuriating. “What are you looking at?”

[Y/N] snapped out of her daze and back to him. “I’m sorry. What?”

“What are you looking at?” Gerhard repeated. Annoyed he even had to do that. “You have been staring off into the distance for some time now. What is so fascinating?”

“Oh…nothing. I was just looking over at those ladies over there.”

Gerhard turned to look at them as well. A giggling gaggle of them. “What about them?”

“I don’t know. They just look nice. More…traditional.” Gerhard had no idea what she was talking about and made the mistake of sipping his coffee. “Do you wish I had bigger breasts?”

He spat out of coffee in alarm and surprise. “I beg your pardon?!”

“My chest.” She told him. “Do you wish it was larger?”

Gerhard tidied and righted himself. Coughing once for composure. “Certainly not. Large…breasts are obscene.”

“They are certainly the style now though.”

“But they are not everyone’s preference.” He insisted. “Besides, I am not with you for your figure. I am with you for a variety of reasons, your body being the least of them.”

“So you don’t think I’m attractive?”

Gerhard glanced up from his cup again, deciding that all personal conversations were to be completed before or after hot beverages, as she looked to him for an answer. He hmphed and gave a stern, “don’t be ridiculous.” He told her, before he confidently sipped his coffee.

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#delico's nursery fanfiction #delico's nursery fanfic #delico's nursery x reader #delico's nursery imagine #delico's nursery scenario #delico nursery scenario #delico nursery imagine #gerhard fra #gerhard fra x reader #gerhard fra scenario #gerhard fra imagine #scenarios #imagine #delico's nursery #delico nursery #dali delico #dali delico x reader #dali x reader

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ravencincaide · 11 months ago

Text

Just a cake

Summary: What was supposed to be a sweet innocent question aimed at gaining a sliver of Chuuya’s attention spiraled out of control. It shook the foundation of your relationship and everything you thought you knew. Indeed with one innocent question you lost it all- and yet saved yourself two decades of suffering all in one go.

Pairing: Fem reader x Chuuya Nakahara

Inspired by Raven’s special anon request: Chuuya says something that hurts the reader and she leaves.

Warnings: Cursing, verbal argument, angst

Enjoy~

“ Can I ask for a birthday cake for my birthday?”

Your tone was light and playful, almost joking- a stupid question meant to lighten the focused mood in the dark, stuffy, paperwork-filled office. A silent cry for a sliver of his attention, just a tiny reassurance that despite the heavy workload which plagued your lives, that he still cared enough not to forget about your important day. You envisioned that Chuuya would pull you into his lap. Then he’d kiss your skin in between bites of bento that you just brought to him just moments earlier. You envisioned a sweet promise that he had already ordered the best cake in Yokohama. or that he would tap your nose with a gloved finger while he demanded to know what kind of boyfriend you thought he was.

Especially when all you asked for this year was a cake and homemade dinner. Just a little time together in the privacy of your home. You and him without praying eyes. Just you and him. Just you, the special news and–

“ Hmff what kinda cake do you want?” you flinched at his tone and paused in the middle of sorting paperwork, unsure whether you heard him right. Your eyes flickered upwards to meet Chuuya’s narrowed ones. Clear frustration itched into his face “ Tell me now the kind you want, doll. Or I’ll just pick something up on the way” You bit your lip. You knew you did not want just ‘something’; a day-old cake from the bakery, or a generic one from any grocery store still open once he got off work. You wanted a cake picked with time and care, selected with you in mind. The type of dedication he’d show whenever he got wine for his friends' birthdays. The warm kind of affection he’d shower you in on good days. The picture perfect generous and loving boyfriend in the eyes of others.

“ Don’t bother,” you answered without anger. “ With that attitude, I’ll fix it myself.” You felt his narrowed eyes glare at you, but you did not spare him a second glance. You were afraid that his expression would make the burning rod of anger explode and escalate the situation further.

Neither of you needed that now.

“ Oj I said I’ll fix it” Chuuya snapped back “ Just stop fuckin asking about it constantly.”

His comment was the wrong thing to say. It was the straw that broke the camel's back, the words that made the anger in your stomach spike into an uncontrollable fury. “ You know what? Don't bother getting me anything!” you hissed “ I don’t need a goddamn thing from you.”

“ What the hell is your fuckin issue?” Chuuya’s fist made contact with the table, his action made the stack of your newly sorted paperwork slide down towards the floor “ You’ve been having a goddamn attitude lately, the hells your problem?!”

“ I don’t know, maybe if you actually took your time to come home once in a while you’d know!” your palms hands slammed against the table in equally furious fashion.

Chuuya let out a growl- bit back the insult at the tip of his tongue. Still his words came out just as sharp as before, if not more painful, blaming “ Do you even understand my financial role? Or do you think my apartment gets paid for by itself, just like the wine and other ‘necessities’?-” You opened your mouth, ready to snap back that he had himself to blame for refusing to take a damned penny off your hands. He had no right to blame you when you had offered to pay time and time again only for him to stuff the money right back into your hand. But he did not let you speak. No, Chuuya kept going, not finished in his fury-filled trade. “ - Besides who the fuck would want to come home to someone constantly ungratefully pissy, hmm?”

“If that’s how you’re feeling then we shouldn’t be together at all” your voice was just shy of a scream, your eyes full of humiliated anger. There was one thing to be pissy because of work related stress but this was crossing boundaries even Chuuya would normally stay clear of.

Not today.

“ Maybe you’re fucking right about that doll!” Chuuya didn't yell. Yet his words echoed loudly, louder than any other sound in his god forsaken office.

You felt like you were slapped. The fight left your system with one big exhale. Your shoulders slumped and you bowed your head. Hands returned to your sides, balled into tight fists.

Chuuya waited for you to say something. When you didn’t he let out a long sigh and turned back to the papers in front of him. You heard the way he picked up his pen, the scratches of the tip against the pristine papers “ I’ll send someone with you to get your things.”

“ Don’t bother, I don’t need or want jack-shit from you” you turned on your heel and headed in the direction of the office door.

Chuuya spoke again before you could leave his office; “ Don’t bother coming back to the Mafia. You’re relieved of your duties.”

A sense of dread filled you but you were too proud to show it. Your lips set into a thin line as your hand lingered on the doorknob. “ As you wish. Don’t come crying to me when you’ll regret this later.” you spat then snuck out of the room right before Chuuya’s fury could reach you.

You closed the office door just in time to hear something smash against it behind you, presumably the half eaten bento you had taken such time and care to prepare for him. Made his favourite things and brought it over for him too.

Fucking ungrateful bastard.

A dull frozen feeling set in your body- your mind hadn’t processed what had just transpired. Could not understand how you had lost everything; your home, your job, your lover and your life over a simple question. A request for something other than a last minute generic cake for your upcoming birthday.

Still as you sat down in your car and pulled out of the Port Mafia parking lot for the last time in your life you couldn’t help the tears that streamed down your cheeks. The suffocating heartache- but also the tiny bit of relief that bloomed in your chest. The relief at the fact that the bloodthirsty executive of the Mafia finally showed his true colours- true thoughts- about you. Blamed you for the fact that you had stayed home from work during the past weeks. Blamed you for the insufferable act of wanting your partners attention. No, he was your ex partner and that was for the better.

It was better that you broke up now than if something similar happened in the next weeks. Or so you told yourself. A few days from now you would have told him the truth and then you would have been trapped with him. By him. A caged bird with no chance to escape. No you should be happy, thankful that he decided to finally show the ugly of his character.

Murderer unable to handle a heart.

As similar thoughts ran through your mind, you couldn’t help the almost manic smile that appeared on your lips as you drove further and further away from the life you knew. After all, you were certain Chuuya would come to regret this decision in the future.

But by then it would be too late.

Your eyes flickered to the passenger seat where a large, obnoxious gift bag sat. With huge golden letters it spelled out “congratulations” and from it peeked out a shirt with the words;

You’re going to be a dad…

Author note: And Chuuya would most certain regret his actions ...

Hope you enjoyed this little special addition to Raven's special that's the lengths of an actual fic. Yes I've had it prepared in advance and used this as an excuse to publish it. Hope this angst hurt just a tiny bit more than the previous. Don't forget to check Raven's masterlist! and wait for the next Special ;) ©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!

#raven's special #raven cincade's works #Raven's drabbles #Raven's short fics #chuuya x reader #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #chuuya x fem!reader #bsd angst #chuuya angst #Chuuya parent #Chuuya fucked up

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