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cashmoneyyysstuff · 8 months ago

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chocolate confession ♡

fem reader, part 2 for the ring pop proposal miniseries since yall were asking for it ! fem reader, soft n worried katsu, white day chocolates, katsu n reader r in highschool (ignore the no dorms blehh :P) in this one, this also reeks of my ocxcanon ship msorry yall lolololol, i dont think there are any warnings, but lemme know if i missed sum else !

the first person who realizes katsuki is trying to confess to you is his mom because he hasn't left the kitchen since he'd banished everyone from coming in as soon as the sun peeked through the curtains.

the older woman had no idea what the sounds of pots and pans clanging, mixed with not-so-quiet cursing meant, at first. but she figured it out quickly, call it mother's intuition, or the fact that she checked her calendar and realized tomorrow was white day.

mitsuki knew her son was going to confess to you when he came back from school with a cutely wrapped box of chocolates. her katsuki was still rowdy—if not rowdier and even less approachable than he was as a chubby cheeked little boy, so she guessed by the blush and barely suppressed smile on his face that—

"ouuu, got yourself some chocolates ? aren't you a heartthrob.." she teased "who'd you get those from ?"

katsuki scoffed at his mothers teasing. he rolled his eyes, but they wouldn't—or rather couldn't stray far away from the wrapped sweet treats. he runs his thumb over the ribbon tied in front.

"..yn gave 'em to me." he huffs proudly.

as she guessed, they came from you. of course.

katsuki is still—if not even more protective over everything that involves you, practically growling at his mom's not so sneaky attempts at trying to sneak a chocolate when he had opened the box "yn made 'em for me, so no touchin'." he snarled, stomping over to his room and ignoring his mom's knowing smirk when he made his way up the stairs.

this memory brings her back to now when she suddenly hears..nothing. absolute silence in contrast to all the ruckus from only a few seconds ago. and then the door creaks open just a bit and mitsuki sees her son's head peek out from the corner. she looks up from her magazine to raise a brow in question and the blond boy glares, jolting his head to the side in a silent plea for her to come over.

she saunters to the door, knowing smirk growing wider the more her son's grumpy face comes into view. she gets a peek of her kitchen through the small crack her son allowed her to see. she had to admit, though rowdy, katsuki was anything but messy. even though the dishes piled up, she knew he'd clean them up soon enough. she looks down at him and he avoids eye contact.

"can i come into my kitchen now ?" she smirks. katsuki scoffs at his feet. he grumbles something unintelligible before side stepping and telling her to 'just come in already.'

the woman is greeted with a batch of freshly made chocolates, which she assumes are one's you like if she knew how enamoured her katsuki was with you.

"ouu, who are these for, hm ?" she teased, but if she knew her son well enough she knew that these—

"sh-shut up !" katsuki snapped, cheeks turning red and eyes drifting around the room "you know who.." he challenges. mitsuki smirks wider, crossing her arms.

as she guessed, they're for you.

"okay.." she humors him, shifting her weight to her other leg " and what do you need me to do here ?"

katsuki inhales shortly to himself. he picks up one of the chocolates, not from your tray because those were for you and no one else, but from another tray she hadn't noticed of sloppier batches.

"try this." is all he says. handing her a little piece of deformed chocolate and she plops it into her mouth. she takes the time to let the sweet treat melt on her tongue before letting out a pleased hum. katsuki straightens up and his eyes shine and brighten the slightest bit.

"mhm, these are good." she acknowledged "but why don't i get one of the pretty ones ?" she teases. her katsuki all but scoffs in her face, simply stating that "these are for yn, not you."

and mitsuki realizes. he must've been working for hours trying to make these chocolates perfect for you, she guessed. her heart warms and her eyes soften at her son's adoration for you.

"but the one you gave me is good too, why can't you just give her one of those ?" at that, katsuki shoots her an incredulous look, like she had just told him something utterly unimaginable.

"i can't go around givin' her shitty chocolates ! 'specially not if i.." he trails off suddenly, grumbling with balled fists. he wipes at his cheek to try and wipe off his embarrassment. mitsuki feels her smile practically reach her ears. she's too good at this.

"if you what ?" she sings, leaning towards her son. he grumbles.

"if i—stop looking at me like that ! s'creepy so knock it off !" the blond snapped, face and ears a bright shade of pink and mitsuki can't help but bark out a loud laugh at her son's flustered state, her laugh drowns out the low growl he makes. she decides to spare him after a good giggle.

"okay, okay. i get it." she reassures. because she does, of course she does. but she sees something is wrong with the way her son seems satisfied for only a second before he's chewing at his lower lip and the way he wipes his hands against his pants. she knows her katsuki is extremely hard to handle. he could be quite the brat, but also extremely stubborn (she thinks she might know where he got that from.) so asking him simply what was wrong was out of the question. so she decides to coax him into it.

"you gonna give them to her tomorrow ?" he nods, hiding his eyes with his bangs.

"they're good. so i'm gonna give 'em to her tomorrow." her son nods at his mumbled pep talk, but the tension between his brows doesn't let up and after a moment, he sighs grumpily.

"what if i, like, fuck it up..?" mitsuki's eyes soften at her son's insecurities showing despite himself.

"how would you do that ? all you gotta do is hand them over." she asks softly. katsuki huffs.

"it's not that simple," he retorts "what if i make it weird ? what if i make things between us weird an' she doesn't wanna be with me anymore..." the sad tone of voice and the angry little puppy dog eyes make mitsuki melt, despite growing up a lot. despite being quippy and rowdy and a major brat, her katsuki will always be her little boy tugging at the bag of sweet ring pops he'd begged her to buy at the grocery store. her little boy who smiled a bright determined smile as the bag crinkled in his hand following his proud stomps to the car back home, ready for tomorrow.

a surprised throaty noise escapes katsuki when his mom places a hand in his hair, running her fingers through it. he makes a displeased noise, again, but doesn't try to stop her. mitsuki does realize her son is trying to confess to you with these chocolates, but she's a woman too and she knows you, she's known you since you were small and she knows how much you care about her son. she knows from the way katsuki kept the chocolates to himself, the barely supressed giddiness in all of his actions and the way he took his time enjoying every bite she knows and realizes that these chocolates were most definitely just for him.

and she guessed maybe you were trying to tell him something too.

she knew her katsuki had absolutely nothing to worry about, because you carried you empty ring pop container around with you in your bag and proudly explained it was 'your husband katsu' that gave it to you with a giggle. because you'd kiss his cheek without worrying about the ooh's and the kissy noises, only her son's cherry red cheeks but proud smile. because you'd giggle and laugh when he still called you his wife well into elementary school, and because you still smile so wide at the mention of his little ring pop proposal. and so, she smiled. startling katsuki by rubbing his hair fast like an almost noogie. he growls at the sudden shift, gripping his mother's arm and pulling away with a scowl, rubbing and trying to fix his hair. "the hell are you doin', hag ?!" her son seethed, and all she can do is smile.

"you got nothin' to worry about, katsuki." she says sincerely, the boy's arms drop and altough his barely there pout remains he tries to act tough, raising a brow at her "how do you know that ?"

"call it mother's intuition." her smile widens at his scoff and rolled eyes, he's better at it now and she laughs. " why do you wanna give these to her ?" she urges. he thinks for a moment, before his cheeks burn red again but his eyes go soft and warm and so much more enamoured with you than he was all those years ago in the car.

"cus..i like her.." he confesses "an' i don't want anybody else to do it before me." he finishes bitterly.

he's always been protective of you. any other boy you were paired up with or sat next to when the class seating order changed was considered public enemy number one for a while. of course, you had him on a leash, always being able to soothe him by saying that he was your number one best friend. and that was more than enough for him to throw smart glares and snarky smirks, grabbing your hand and dragging you off somewhere to show you something cool. something he knew you'd find cool because he prided himself in knowing exactly what you liked more than the other boys. your favorite ice cream, flowers, and chocolate flavor.

and mitsuki smiles. "right, you like her. so you can't let that scare you off, can you ?" mitsuki feels her heart soaring with pride, albeit with a little amusement when her son scoffs in response "course not. i ain't scared of shit." he states, she decides to ignore the irony of his statement for now.

"of course," she nods "and just between us, i think she likes you, too. i dunno how she does but.." katsuki's eyes widen like she'd just told him something ridiculous, completely ignoring her jab at him. she has to hold back a harsh laugh at how oblivious her son could be.

"that's just my guess though !" she shrugs nonchalantly "but there's only one way to find out if i'm right.."

after a beat, katsuki nods to himself with a grunt, grabbing the tray of chocolates and putting it in the fridge, ready for tomorrow, and wordlessly rolling up his sleeves and starting the dishes, as mitsuki guessed, and she smiles. she pets her son's head again briefly, ignoring his dissaproving grumbles, before giving him a pat on the back and wishing him good luck.

the next day, katsuki walks over to her, sat on the couch, immediately after coming back from school, with a proud smirk and gleaming red cheeks. and mitsuki knew she had nothing to worry about as she grins back.

taglist *if your name is pink i unfortunately couldn’t tag you :(( : @73isthebestnumber @gold24fish @m-inluv @katsuisbaby @teddiiursulas-ink @moonbabysstuff @brandydel @queenpiranhadon @chuugarettes @starieq @aishio14 @andysdrafts @hyunorue @touyasprettydoll @itsfiive @annoying-bitxh @h0nestly-though @atinytiredpanromantic @mikalame @itzjustj-1000 @deepressed @evam23 @erenstitanweave @m-0ona @chaoticgay13 @lotusstarr @koreluvsspring @giannitaa @waterstarz @nayeonsdoormat @the-crazy-star-12 @kovu-bunnbunn

tumblr is tweakin so if some of your tags don't work m'so sorry :(((

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pathologicalreid · 4 months ago

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for the fear of falling apart | part one

after hearing her gunpoint confession, your sister pressures you into airing your grievances at Rossi's wedding

series masterlist

who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: angst content warnings: takes place following/during 14x15 "truth or dare", fem!reader, established relationship, mentions roslyn, unresolved conflict, a lot of insecurity, cm violence, i think everyone has a fault in this word count: 2.47k a/n: so this idea popped into my head. i think the concept of spencer dating jj's younger sister is insane and i love it. i hope you like it as well. (i want to write a part two so bad i hate leaving things unresolved). also this is not jj hate that's my girl i loved her even before i loved spencer!!!!

“Please, can you just hear me out?” Your sister pleaded, keeping her voice low so you didn’t take any attention off of the bride and groom.

Bringing your glass to your lips, you shrugged, “I’m not sure this is the right place, Jennifer,” you murmured, looking across the room at your brother-in-law, “I think Will’s looking for you.”

She brushed off your dismissal, “I’ll go over once we figure this out. Let’s go out to the courtyard and talk.”

JJ reached out and gently gripped your elbow, trying to guide you through the French doors of the wedding venue, but you yanked your arm away, crossing your arms in front of your stomach. “It’s rude to leave now, this is a wedding, we’re guests here,” you scolded her, focusing your eyes forward. The ceremony was over, and everyone was mingling, but you refused to be the first to leave. Besides, going home would mean needing to face Spencer – another discussion you didn’t have the energy for.

You knew she hated leaving things unfinished. The both of you could feel the rift between you growing as if the earth was physically shifting beneath your feet. “It would just be for a second,” she urged.

Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “It’s fifteen years of dirty laundry, Jayg. It’s going to take more than a second to air it out.” You frowned into your newly emptied glass before hauling yourself over to the bar, grateful that she didn’t follow, “Can you make me one of the pink glittery drinks?”

Penelope, the honorary bartender for the evening, nodded reassuringly, taking an already-made beverage from the counter and sliding it over to you, “You look like you could use it,” she observed.

You sighed in concurrence, “You have no idea,” you mumbled as you brought the glass to your lips. The drink itself was a bit of an abomination, so strong that it burnt your nostrils as it went down, “God, that’s strong.”

The technical analyst just laughed, making her way back to the dance floor to meet up with Luke and Matt. Your gaze flickered over other members of the team until you were met with familiar brown eyes.

There had been a ball of dread forming in your stomach ever since you returned from Los Angeles. From where you were standing now, the cut on your boyfriend’s hand that you had preoccupied yourself with seemed inconsequential. You watched him now, in real-time as he glanced between you and your sister, picking up on the tension as you avoided her.

Someone was bound to snap.

Walking away from the bar, you went out into the hallway, finding the nearest door and practically throwing yourself outside. Pulling your hair off the back of your neck with your free hand, you sat down on a moss-covered bench in the courtyard and waited for the cold night air to cool you off.

As expected, you heard the door behind you click. You couldn’t be bothered to look at who it was, if it was important to them, they’d come to you. Sure enough, you remained focused on your drink as Spencer took a seat on the bench next to you, “Aren’t you cold?”

“Alcohol,” you mumbled, “Keeps me warm.”

Not exactly the answer he was going for, but he took it at face value. He was probably more comfortable in his suit than you were in your dress. “Are you feeling alright?”

You thought about lying to him. Telling him that you were just tired, it had been a long week of watching your sister and boyfriend being held hostage in a pawn shop and hunting Everett Lynch on top of your normal caseload, but the thought of holding up that lie just made you feel worse. Taking a large sip of your drink, you took a deep breath before speaking, “Garcia recovered the audio from the CCTV footage inside of the pawn shop. Emily asked me to review the tapes and let her know if I thought there was anything pertinent that should be added to the case files.”

He didn’t respond for a while, knowing exactly what you were getting at but not sure how to further the conversation, “And did you?”

You lifted your glass again, “There wasn’t anything in the tapes that was necessary for the case. I buried the audio files and transcripts and sealed the file.”

“Thank you,” he said, relief evident in his tone.

You, however, frowned at his response, “’Thank you’?” You repeated, an accusation in your voice, “I was scared shitless while the two of you were in there, and all the while my sister was confessing her love for you.”

Spencer was quiet again, rendered speechless by your words. Your description was accurate, if not blunt.

You sniffled, setting your glass down and wrapping your arms around yourself, “I have never felt more humiliated, and no one else can ever know why.” You traced the cobblestones on the ground with your eyes as thoughts continued racing through your head. “God, is this why she pushed us together?”

The door behind you clicked again and you stiffened, closing your eyes when you heard JJ coming out into the courtyard, “Ducky, we need to talk.”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you snapped at her, standing up and glaring at her. Your childhood nickname rang through your ears. A term of endearment given to you by your oldest sister now grated on your heart, shredding through each chamber. “I do not need to do anything,” you told her, narrowing your gaze.

Tears pricked your eyes, Please, JJ, just give me time to think. I just need a minute. Not everything has to be solved right away.

You were too proud to say the words aloud, but you thought it. You wanted to beg her for time. You wanted to plead with your sister for just a little bit of time to think things through.

She held her hands up in surrender, “I needed to tell Pinkner something that would satisfy him. You know the profile; you know what would’ve happened if I didn’t.”

Yes, and the image of both of them being held at gunpoint would haunt you for years to come, but that still didn’t justify any of it, not to you. Finishing off your drink, you set the crystal glass on the cobblestone bench and faced your sister, “Jennifer,” you said sharply, “Truth or dare?”

Her blue eyes widened as she looked between you and Spencer, who was wisely keeping his mouth shut, “Truth,” she answered, her voice so quiet you could barely hear it.

“Did you mean it?” You asked, the first of your tears finally flooding over your lash line.

You gripped the fabric of your dress in your hands as you waited for her answer, “Yes,” she told you.

Covering your face with your hands, you sighed deeply into them, “Fuck,” you cried. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you echoed. None of this made sense to you, JJ was married. JJ and Will were the kind of couple that you could look at and you would know that they belonged together, but now she was saying she had been in love with Spencer this whole time.

White hot tears stung the cold skin on your cheeks as you looked back up at your sister, waiting for her to say something else. “We went on an almost date years ago and nothing else ever came of it. Life just went on moving and we…” Her voice trailed off, either unable to finish her thought or unwilling to share.

“You’re married, JJ,” you said desperately, looking at her and wondering if she had told Will where she was going. “Does Will know? Did you tell him you’ve been stringing him along? Thirteen years in and two kids later?”

She faltered for a moment, and you knew you had hit your mark – it made you sick to your stomach. “No, I love him. I love my boys, you know that.”

You nodded numbly, “Yeah, I do, but I can’t keep going if you’re always going to be longing for what might’ve been.”

“You’re drunk and you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she accused, tapping her right foot anxiously.

JJ might’ve grown up in Roslyn’s shadow, but you grew up in hers. Captain of the varsity soccer team, full-ride athletic scholarship at Pitt, and grad school at Georgetown. All leading up to her joining the bureau at twenty-three. You followed her, believing anywhere was better than Pennsylvania, and this is what it had gotten you. It was exhausting, being the one pushing the boulder up the hill, your hands were scraped, and she couldn’t see it.

Deftly, you wiped at the tears beneath your eyes, “I know exactly what I’m saying. Please, can you try and just look at this from my point of view? My big sister, who I’ve looked up to for my whole life, confessed her feelings for my boyfriend. My boyfriend who she set me up with.” Realization dawned on you, turning to face Spencer, “You were in love with her, and… I’m…” your voice trailed off.

Matching your train of thought, Spencer shook his head, reaching a hand out for yours, but you pulled away from him, “No, honey, please. It’s not like that.”

“You couldn’t have her, and I’m just the next best thing,” you told him miserably. “She met Will and got pregnant and got married and you were so in love with her that you took the off-brand version just to have something.”

Spencer shushed you, watching as tears fell from your cheeks, “I’m with you because I love you, not because of anything else.”

Your chest ached, it felt like someone had thrust their hand in the cavity and was squeezing as tightly as they could. You wanted to believe him. You so, so badly wanted to believe him. “Tell me,” you prompted, “tell me I’m not your second choice.”

“You are not my second choice,” he told you, and you watched. You watched for his tells, any sign at all that he was lying.

You shook your head at him, “Why did you lie to me? About the football game,” you asked him, a semi-permanent frown staying on your face.

He furrowed his brows and stood up in front of you, rubbing your arms up and down to keep you warm, “I didn’t lie to you.”

“You didn’t tell me. Neither of you did. That’s lying by omission, and you both know it,” you said, stepping away from him hesitantly. You didn’t know what to trust; you didn’t know what was real.

Spencer looked back at your sister, but she looked frozen, “It wasn’t a date,” he said simply. “I… I intended for it to be a date, but JJ invited Penelope and that was the end of it. I took it as her not being interested and that’s the truth. Nothing else ever happened between the two of us.”

You watched your sister, her mouth opening and closing as she scrounged for the right thing to say. “I said what I had to in order to survive,” she defended.

Sucking on your back molars, you shrugged helplessly in response, “I know,” you admitted. “I know that you probably planned on taking your truth to the grave with you, but… it’s out, Jayg.”

“I can explain everything to you,” she offered, “Please let me explain, Ducky.”

The desperation in her voice chiseled at your resolve, but it wasn’t enough. “I don’t have it in me,” you admitted. “I’m fresh out of fight and I just wanna go home,” you told her, looking at Spencer who nodded, heading back inside to gather your things.

You sat back down on the bench, propping your chin up on your hand.

“I couldn’t think of anything else to say,” she tried again, her voice gruff from holding back tears.

Shaking your head, you closed your eyes and breathed in the cold winter air, “I don’t really care, JJ. You said it, I heard it, and now you have to deal with it.”

She cleared her throat, “I would deal with it now, but you’re being petulant.”

Looking up at her, you frowned, “I told you inside that I didn’t want to talk about this here. You came outside. You sought me out to talk. Now you’re mad that I’m not being nice about it?” Something new bubbled in your stomach, the pit that had been forming there quickly evolved into anger.

“I was trying to save lives,” she tried again, insisting she was right.

You could live with her being right on that front. She was saving lives, and she needed a truth potent enough to sway the UnSub, but in all of her explanations, she never once apologized about this curveball. “I live with Spencer. I… when I give gifts, they’re signed from the both of us,” you told her. “Sometimes when we can’t sleep at night, we come up with baby names, and you’re in love with him. I asked for time, and you couldn’t give it to me. So, this is what you get.”

With Spencer reappearing at the door, you made your way out of the courtyard, he draped your coat over your shoulders, and you wrapped the wool around yourself as you made your way out. “I told Rossi and Krystall that you were tired, but I think they might have taken it as you had too much to drink,” he explained, opening the passenger side door for the car for you to get in.

A small smile tugged at your throat, “I don’t really care.” Maybe if you had gotten that drunk, your chest wouldn’t hurt so much.

The rest of the ride home was silent, small flurries started floating from the sky, and you watched the way they danced in the streetlights. Once you were home, you got ready for bed, grabbing a pillow off of your bed, and turning to the door, “Where are you going?” Spencer asked, returning from brushing his teeth.

“I’m gonna sleep on the couch,” you told him softly, looking at the pillow that you were clutching in your arms.

He faltered for a moment, obviously taken aback by your decision, “Can we talk tomorrow?”

You frowned, letting your eyes lift to his, when it was dark, his eyes took on a certain kind of melancholia. It hurt to look at tonight. “Sure,” you offered weakly, turning around and heading for the couch.

“Are we gonna be okay?” He asked, fear creeping into his voice. Fear of losing you.

Glancing back at him as you lobbed the pillow on the couch, you gave him a gentle smile, “Yeah, Spence, we’ll figure it out. Just not tonight, okay?”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #jennifer jareau #jareau!reader #written by margot #ffofa

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heartmix · 13 days ago

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Spoiled - LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x gn!reader

Word Count: 800+

Warning: making fun of the british (slightly), expired food

A/N: the idea popped into my head after watching max's stream a few days ago. Also i'm pretty sure its Lando's birthday already somewhere in europe!

F1 Masterlist / Masterlist

Some days you wondered how Lando was still alive. Never mind driving a rocket ship on wheels for living, no, it was because he decide to put anything in his body without a second thought. Despite spending millions on cars and watches and other material items he didn't give a second thought about something he needs to survive, food. You blamed it on him being british and the fact that they don't have anything good to eat. You knew about the sweet potato incident, even if it was before you knew him. Finding out he went and ate spoiled food again was enough to give you the ick and put your foot down.

The plan was simple. Buy new groceries, do some meal prep and clean out the fridge for Lando while he was playing Tarkov with his friends. He mentioned that he was going to play all day and that max was going to stream later on in the night. That gave you enough time to run to the store and cook some easy meals so you could surprise him with a full fridge.

After waking up early and sending a text to Lando that you were going to drop off something later tonight, you headed to the grocery store to pick up everything you needed. A bunch of fresh produce to meal prep and some snacks that can last on the shelf for a few months. With Lando's strict diet (or lack of there) you pulled out all the stops for a healthy and tasty meal.

As night time crept up you packed everything in bags and made your way over to his apartment. You got a notification that max started his stream a few ago so it was the perfect time to sneak in and fill his kitchen while dropping off some dinner. Any noise you made wouldn't be too out of the blue seeing as he knew you were coming and that you already had a key.

While entering the house you could already hear the screaming and weird random sounds coming out of your boyfriends gaming room. That should keep him distracted for awhile. First you started with cleaning and sterilizing his fridge. Doubt he didn't have much which is probably why he ate expired chicken, but one could never be too careful. Once that was over with you packed away all his food that should last for the week. Seeing the finished product brought a smile to your face. At least he was going to be eating good for the week.

Once his current raid ended you quietly made your way into the room being aware that his mic was on and that possibly a couple thousand fans could hear what could be said, even with this shit mic. When his door opened he saw you and an immediate smile was plastered on his face.

"Hey baby." He smiled taking off his headphones and motioning you to come by him.

"Hi. I just came to drop off dinner. Don't want to keep you long." You smiled placing the plastic bag on his desk before he pulled you onto his lap.

"It's okay, raid just ended and the mic is off. Stay for a few seconds."

"Alright. I made you my famous stir fry. There's another serving in the fridge for tomorrow." You said bringing out the food and fork setting it up for him.

"What would i do without you."

"Eat expired chicken."

"Haha i get it." He gave a fake laugh making a real one erupt from your throat.

"Yeah you seriously gave me the ick. This was going to be a surprise but i stocked up your fridge and did some meal prep. You just have to heat it up in the microwave, although i'm scared you'll even mess that up." You laughed at another joke your boyfriend seemed to be the butt of.

"Move in with me." All of the joking mood went out of the room as he looked at you with a serious almost pleading expression.

For you it came out of the blue. Sure you've been together for almost two years and you've spent a good portion out of the year traveling with him to races, but moving in together never crossed your mind. It seemed like the next logical thing in the relationship but neither of you brought the topic up till now.

"What?"

"Sorry, i was either going to blurt out that or marry me. I figure it's best to go in order." The words came out like it wasn't the most bizarre thing he could say in the moment.

"You're crazy."

"Yeah, for you. So what do you say?" How could you say no to that adorable smile.

"Well someone needs to keep you alive." a smile slowly crept upon your face liking the idea of seeing with him more and being closer to him. Also it would save you money, monaco wasn't cheap.

"Perfect." He said leaning in for a kiss before you pulled away.

"I'm not kissing you after you just ate expired chicken."

"That was yesterday!"

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 #formula 1

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auragasmics · 4 months ago

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onlyfans creator!toji meeting fan!reader but getting so drunk off of them that he keeps bringing them back & eventually only makes vids with them… *heh*

CAMERA ROLL LOOKIN’ LIKE ONLY FANS!

synopsis! he knows better than to get involved with fans. But upon meeting you, Toji’s found himself in a world where he can only have you—and you alone.

pairings! fan!fem!reader x onlyfans creator!toji fushiguro

cw!3.5k words, pwp, dubcon(?), consensual filming, pussydrunk!toji, doggy style, mean!toji, cunninlingus

mwuahaha, i loved this thirst sm! i couldn’t stop thinking about it!

have a thirsty thought? read my guidelines and start sending them in!

In truth, Toji knew better. While unspoken and better left assumed, it’s still the number one rule amongst fans and creators alike.

The golden rule of never, ever hooking up with a fan. Toji’s all too aware of this, but he’s no saint to abide by the rules. It didn’t help that it was all his friends were recently raving about, claiming that it would boost views—and sales for those with even the slightest glimmer of naive hope in their eyes.

And when a thought replays like a broken record, it’s only a matter of time before one succumbs to incessant influence—and Toji’s no better. He had it figured out; announce his little plan to all his cock-hungry fans, run their users through an online random generator, and whoever’s name pops up on his screen is his lucky vixen for the night.

But the generator just had to pick you.

He was blind—or better yet, naive, to the possibilities that could arise from his little adventure with danger. It never crosses his mind that maybe he’d regret the choice of taking down a fan—or maybe he’d fall in love with the idea and add it to his usual lineup.

But that didn’t stop him from sending you that message and bringing you into his humble abode of a high-rise apartment. That didn’t stop him from fawning over your pretty face and kind attitude, as if you both had forgotten what was to follow through the night.

He was simply so blind to it all that Toji had written off the slim chance of him getting addicted to you.

Until he was.

Why the memory of Toji slipping just the tip of his cock inside you still lays fresh on his mind and vigorous to his nerves. He remembers how cocky he was, thinking that he’d be the best you ever had, how no one could ever come close to how he imagined fucking you.

But the gummy halo of your cunt enveloped his blushing pink head with a sopping wet kiss, condemning the poor forsaken man down the path of egotistical demise.

Toji, the Toji Fushiguro was victim to a state that he’d never ventured into before; suddenly his mind was shot blank, his eyes threatening to rest into the dark abyss of his skull and the brawny chest he worked so hard for was rigged with shuddering breaths.

Within a matter of minutes, Toji was out of his body, out of control, and without a single means of putting up a fight.

If your pussy claimed his resolve, your body claimed his soul. Every arch, squirm, and jolt gave way to Toji’s heart. He’d even found a serenade within your outpouring moans, every hymn motivating him to his newly found goal. For in that moment, the unmoved Toji was concerned with something he never allowed to faze him—his ability to please.

Toji knew one thing; he utterly had to please you, to bring your mind, body, and spirit to the sheer face of ecstasy. He was always so sure of himself thanks to his past of collaborations, but not a single woman of his past could compare to you. Because, unlike those past collaborations for work purposes, everything that night was genuine.

The way you whimpered whenever he leaned over for a kiss was real, how your hands clung to every inch of his misted skin was bonded behind the truth, down to the orgasm he had no choice but to sit through because of the suffocating clench your walls bestowed around him.

The last thing he remembers from that night is the words he drunkenly allowed to fall from his lips, almost begging you to come back. When waking the next morning and found you gone, Toji realised he had to work to earn both you and your trust.

From that day on, something in Toji has him running ragged on your behalf. All of a sudden, he’s caught up with buying you lingerie he can’t wait to rip off of you, he’s sitting through hours of research to buy the best camera to catch every single moment of filth amidst you two. Why, he’s even gotten into the habit of calling you every morning and every night just to give you a glimpse of the real him.

A month’s swept by since that momentous night, and within those four weeks—Toji’s reserved at least fifteen of those nights just for you and him. Just this week alone, he “needed” you twice, and tonight would make it thrice.

The third time of making you cum off his tongue alone before he had the privilege of fucking you raw beneath the starry sky. And each time he does indulge in you, he can’t silence the raging urge to leave your pussy plump and dribbling with his thick white cum.

But he holds back, it’s already an honor to have you raw and he’d hate for something as minuscule as natural instinct to ruin a good thing.

Though it’s that same natural instinct that had him calling you just under two hours ago—and waiting by the door like a new puppy waiting for its owner to return. His friends call him pussywhipped, so immersed in you these days that it’s all he talks about, his newest tease with a pussy that gets so sloppy for him.

Toji could fight back, but he isn’t one to play delusional. Pussy-whipped, that’s exactly who he is and who he’s become. And somewhere deep, deep down in his subconscious, he’s found satisfaction in that. Just a puppy with a—

“Toji! It’s me!”

The pretty croon of your muffled voice has Toji springing off the black leather couch and onto his feet. He looks down at himself—nothing could be more apparent than opening the door and revealing him to wear nothing but black sweatpants.

It’s too late to apply any effort, Toji thought as he twisted the door handle open, yanking the door to greet you.

“Hey Gorgeous, come in,” he hums, his arm racing to lace around the waist of your black leggings. “Hope you didn’t wait too long~maybe I should give you a key soon…”

Returning his regards, You give in to Toji with a swift embrace, linking around his bare waist. “No, I didn’t wait at all. It was like you were waiting—”

“I see you didn’t bring a bag. Why don’t you stay the night…you never do,” Toji interjects as he leans back to close the door. His eyes fall matched to your own, wide and glimmering but afraid to step any further than what’s been established.

Your shoulders give into a heartless shrug, your chin whipping away from his sight as you utter plainly to Toji.

“Oh, I didn’t think you wanted me to, and I honestly don’t care to sleep over either. But I guess if there’s a next time, I will.”

That’s something you really shouldn’t have said. Toji can’t pinpoint where it hurts, but he knows it does. If there’s a next time? Didn’t his constant calls, random splurge days, and his mere insisting presence give way to his budding sentiments—there’s always going to be a next time.

“C’mon, don’t be like that! I know it takes a lot of effort to leave afterwards. And you don’t even kiss me goodbye…so cold…but I like it.”

You know the strategy by know as his hands work to court your body to his touch. He’s dangerously close to the thick globes of your ass, the tips of his fingers delicately tracing the outline of your thong.

Toji’s smooth, that’s exactly why you followed him in the first place, and it’s what got you laid beneath him that first night all the same. Like the best charades, his suave whims soon grew weary and transparent, but it’s his confidence that keeps you around.

And just how easy it is to tease him.

Taking a finger to Toji’s chest, you decide to spur him on, to paint an image of what lies just beneath your attire. “I’m wearing the set we got last week…in case you’re wondering.”

His once heavy eyelids shoot wide apart, forcing Toji to dumb gawk at you. “The…red one with the…cutouts?”

“Mhm,” you nod coyly, “But the thong is just so thin and so easy to rip too. Guess the quality wasn’t all that good.”

Toji darts his eyes over your face, his sly azure hues taking in your faux act of innocence. He knows it’s all just to tease him, but with the slightest chance that some kind of truth stands behind your words, he can’t forfeit his chances of making an advance.

“Okay, then let’s make a deal. Stay over tonight and tomorrow, we‘ll go out and buy the best lingerie that money can buy. How’s that?”

A sheepish scoff rings from your barred lips as you stroll away from Toji, leaving him to stare at your wading presence. “Let me think about it.”

“Oh, but you won’t have time to think…not after I’m done with you,” he adds with haste behind you.

Your hand settles upon the cold silver door knob of Toji’s bedroom, revealing the sacred altar within a mere glance. Not much has changed since the first night he brought you over—a king size bed that stands in the room’s centre, tall windows with black curtains, a desk in the corner with a computer, and of course, a shelf against the wall that holds Toji’s vast array of sex toys, photos and even a few awards he��s won from the platform.

But as the days passed, the raunchy nature of his bedroom died out when small potted plants replaced the sex toys and trophies. The thick black curtains were traded for white gossamer, and the typical red blanket set was nowhere to be seen in the face of red silk sheets and pillowcases to match.

It’s a heavy claim to say that you’ve played a hand in his transformation, however, considering that you told Toji how nursing plants are a hobby of yours, you prefer more natural light to enter rooms, and that sleeping on silk simply has its benefits—one could safely make that assumption.

All your observations fall short the moment you sit on the edge of the bed, the mattress graciously dipping beneath your curves.

“Yeah, yeah, so what do you have planned for tonight?”

Toji takes his time to reply, setting his heavy hands to brace the waistband of his black sweatpants as he stands before you. “Oh I was thinking maybe some POV shots, I haven’t done those in a long time. Think I should bring them back more often now.”

Musing him, you tilt your head at Toji, a faded smile playing on your lips. “Is that right?

“You know the deal. I’m not gonna start recording until you say so. Why, maybe tonight we don’t even have to get it on film. Can’t we just…fuck around and see where that gets us?”

“That’s a new attitude, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, honest!” Toji flusteredly fumbles out. He didn’t think he’d have to explain it, but some words are better said than just acted upon. And what’s on his chest is heavier than what gravity supplies Mother Earth.

He’s been given the slim window to confess what he wants from you, a question you’ve plagued him with since the second night he called you over.

He sends a hand to the nape of his neck, mindlessly pinching at the sparse hairs as his frazzled brian searches for the best words to explain his story. “ I just…really like having you to myself. A lot, actually. And it has me thinking…would you be open to being my…partner? C-Content wise, of course.”

“Oh…sure, we can do that! I thought you were gonna–oh!”

The brash clash of Toji’s lips steals the very words from your mouth and pins you underneath him. He more than happily donning the lead of setting the rhythm, painting his kiss against your lips as tenderly as he can.

Just like that, Toji’s gotten his burning wish within a matter of seconds—and what’s a better way to celebrate than by making his favorite girl cum all throughout the night?

The excitement has Toji running on salacious fumes, his eager hands surging across your body. First he’s tugging off your brown hoodie, pulling the soft knitted cotton over your head on and off onto the floor.

Your leggings follow swiftly behind that, and before Toji can even breathe, he’s got you pinned under him with the lingerie you’ve hinted at earlier with his sweats and briefs joining the array of discarded clothes.

The very set he plucked out just days before with the lacy red bra that barely leaves anything to imagination. He’s already inclined on tending to your pebbling nipples plowing against the fabric. He’s drawn right back to your lips, using his wandering hands to trek across your physique.

Upon his travels, Toji brushes against the panties you mentioned before, so frail that he could tug on them right now and free you from their rein. Rather, he relies on a mere pinch to inch the seam of your panties to sit within the plushy crease of your thigh.

“Mm, Toji?” you huff out between a kiss, “Let’s start, okay?”

Frantically shaking his head, Toji aimlessly reaches out to prowl along the top of his bedside dresser until he’s met with the familiar structure of his camera.

Slotting himself between your thighs, Toji points the keen lens to capture the timeless scene of him between your legs with a single hand. Clicking the camera on, Toji’s granted a clear sight of your bare pussy caught within the camera’s eye.

“ ‘Kay, camera’s on. Don’t you dare change a thing!

He isn't hesitant to begin, leaving you with a final request to hold your legs back before he’s pressing lazy kisses to the supple mounds of your cunt.

It’s that first breathless gasp of yours that throws Toji down a spiral of his own arousal. He’s already a throbbing mess, dripping all that precum into the silk sheets, but he doesn’t care. Not when his tongue is tasked with the honor of tracing along the pulsing canal of your glossy folds, just for his greedy ambitions pitting him to suck at the swollen pulse.

“Such a pretty pussy, Gorgeous,” he’s mumbling to himself as blown eyes scale up and down the sinful display.

He wants the camera to catch everything—from the way your fat lips split around his worked tongue to the very twitch that rattles your clit. He carefully shadows the camera over your cunt, his thick digits spreading you apart.

“Fuck, look at that, so soft ‘nd smooth…so wet for me too.”

His thumb rests against the cute pink bulb of your clit, the sullied pad sketching slow, tight circles over the bundle of nerves.

“Mmm-oh shit!…Toj—fuck, that’s so good!”

“That’s it, say my name Baby, c’mon!” He cheers along your twitching bulb. His name’s just sitting on the tip of your weak tongue, so desperate to break through the air. As its bearer, Toji’s waiting to hear it, the magic word set to pull him underneath your spell.

His hand’s encroach along your supple sides, softly squeezing at whatever fits within his grip. “I know that look, gonna cum on my tongue just how I like it, right?”

“Mhm,” you frantically affirm with nods, “…it’s right…it’s right there, Toji!”

You don’t have to pay him a teary-eyed glance to know that Toji’s hiding that sinister grin amongst the fat plush of your folds. That same smile that blossoms into a pout as he guides your poor clit to dance with his tongue.

Every which way, he’s swiveling your spry mound, All those lazy flicks, pedaling that soft curve of his slicked muscle around your stiffening bud. He’s even placed his hand right beneath your navel, using a soft grip to pull the stubborn hood of your clit back, leaving you open and raw for his selfish amusement.

Your hands race to tug at the noir crown of Toji’s head, keeping his head still while your trembling hips rock against his lush pout. “Fuh– yesyesyes! Toji please! Please make me cum, ‘m so close!”

Toji’s too far gone to keep up with you, his trained hand trembling to find a steady frame of the homemade film. Your nectar’s seeping into his senses, blinding Toji from the surrounding world.

All he can think about is you, all he can taste is that sweet essence spilling from his lips and down his chin. It’s all just a mess he's made out of both you and himself, but when he finally catches wind of your crashing orgasm, Toji’s beaming with the glow of achievement.

Your thighs snap around his head as the weight of your high wrecks through your body in perilous tremors. Your hips drive up against Toji’s gape, stuffing his mouth full with your cunt once more. His greedy forte settles over you again, suckling the chubby swell of your clit against his hollowed cheeks.

Breaking away from your cunt, Toji pans the camera down to your folds, his fingers gently tapping along your pillowy lips. “That’s my girl! Look so pretty like that, c’mon, we gotta keep you going now. Turn around and give me a nice arch, okay?”

You’re more than willing to comply with Toji’s request, slamming your weak legs shut as he rests on his knees. It takes all the energy ebbing from your body to secure a strong arch, one that has your hips tilted and your ass parading about in the air.

“How’s that, Toji?”

“Just beautiful. Stay still and let me do all that hard work, yeah?” he hums softly.

Toji watches as the lens focuses on the sight between your bodies. His hand braces around his shaft, giving his aching cock one firm squeeze before tapping the head of his cock along your slit.

“I know you can take it, but what do you think?” Toji hints as he gently nudges himself against you.

You look back at Toji with a proud smile, “I can take it!”

“That’s my girl! Just relax and let me…oh..fuck, that’s the good shit!”

By the rushed dip of his hips, Toji’s subdued by the velvety warmth of your walls, the slickened heat coddling his cock with wet kisses. It’s just like he remembers, tight, warm, and carved out to home all the ridges, the veins and the throbbing underside of his length.

“Look at the mess we’re making,” Toji gloats as he shifts the camera around your sputtering pussy, “And I’ve barely even give you those deep strokes you love so much!”

Those very deep strokes that he’s so fond of too. It grants him the very bliss he can’t get with anyone but you. He’s learning all about how sensitive you are, the pace you, how many times you can cum before you’re fucked dumb, all these things Toji’s taken account for.

As for tonight, he just wants you feel good, his precious girl. That’s why he’s so kind to feed your walls short drives of his cock as you adjust to his size. You’re taking him better these days, your pussy greedily nursing all nine inches of Toji’s length.

He’s got such a fat girth too, so thick that you’re left to squirm beneath the burning stretch. It’s pain that gives way to pleasure all too quickly as Toji reels his hips barely a few inches away from you.

“Aww, tell me, baby…You like this dick, don’t you? Like how it stretches this cunt to my size, how I’m always hitting that spot, go on, tell me.”

“Mmm…it’s alright,” you attempt to tease, but the stillness in the air carries about a warning with no way of guaranteeing caution.

Toji fists the fragile trims of your thong in his hand, yanking the fabric taunt in his grasp. “Oh…that’s how we’re gonna play?”

In one harsh tug, he’s dragging you against his burly thighs with nowhere else to run from the brutal onslaught of his crashing hips. All the kindness he had for you runs out, leaving Toji on a hellbent venture of proving his words true. His unruly drive has you thrashing straight into the pillow headfirst, pitting your limp body to rock along to all his ministrations without prevail.

It’s a rolling barrage, one hard drive after the other. The lewd orchestra Toji’s conducting has the clash of skin breaking about the room, using the meld of your voices charred by vengeful bliss as vocals.

But he isn’t lying; even through his rage, Toji’s still tending to you. By sending the thick bulb of his cock to smother your sweet spot in kisses, each one messier than the last, the coil deep within your core bubbles with another budding orgasm. How could something so mean, so harsh, feel so good? So much that your eyes drift back into your head, your and the veil of pleasure dresses your body like the finest silk.

All just because you jokingly bruised Toji’s ego. Either way, the fact remains that he’s thoroughly aggravated, and his angered spiel falls on deaf ears.

“Stop lying to me!” He grunts out with a smirk, “ W-We both know you do! Why else would your pussy get so messy fr’ me? M-Making such a mess on the bed. ‘M splitting her open and you say you–”

“T-Toji wait! O-Okay, okay, I do! “ Your whimpering admittance of defeat breaks into the air, earning nothing more than the chime of Toji kissing his teeth.

“C’mere,” he huffs out, pulling your limp body up against his own. His chest carves out your arch like a sculpture, leaving no crevice nor crease hidden from his frame. The grip he has upon you shifts above to the slacked curve of your jaw, leaving Toji’s thumb to strum along your bottom lip.

His hazy stare catches wind of your misty doe eyes, coaxing a lump to build within Toji’s throat.

As an act of sympathy, litters of kisses melt against your skin, his unruly trail leading him straight to your dribbling lips.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Toji whispers against your lips, “Y’know I like you, baby. Don’t go being too mean to me or else someone isn’t cumming tonight.”

“O…okay! I’m sorry Toji, ‘m really sorry!” you sob, your hand racing to brace the thick of his forearm.

Your apology chants in his ear like a mantra, coaxing a crooked grin to shine inside the dark room.

“Now…” Toji giggles, his hazy eyes flickering towards the fixed lens of the camera. “‘m taking a picture for the thumbnail…smile for the camera!”

1K notes · View notes

maybanksprincess · 11 days ago

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no nut november ❀

warnings: sort of smut, jj cumming with minimal touch, sexy lingerie, cursing, mature themes, pet names, cliffhanger (again) 🤗, sub jj.

summary: it had just turned november, and jj was trying to get through the whole month without cumming.

pairings: boyfriend!jj x girlfriend!reader

requested by this ask, sorry this is kinda shit. thank you for the request babydoll ᥫ᭡

when jj told you he was gonna get through the whole november without cumming or jerking off once, you almost laughed out loud at him.

"baby, what do you mean the whole month? you can't even last a week." you state bluntly, raising an eyebrow at him.

he crosses his arms and stares at you in disbelief, "what do you mean I can't last a week? I totally can." he huffs exaggeratedly

you roll your eyes, and then suddenly an idea popped into your head. you turn to your boyfriend and grin "okay, let's make a deal. If you can last a week in November without cumming, I'll let you do whatever you want to me for the whole month of December."

"pshh- deal." he says immediately, not even giving himself time to think about what you said.

not even a week into November, jj found himself starting to struggle. he finally realized just how much he jerked off a month. and it didn't help that you would walk around in the house with just underwear and a t-shirt on.

he would often come so close to cumming just based off the thought of you. its like he didnt even have to touch himself anymore.

you knew what you were doing, you were trying to make him crack. you purposely walked around in lacy underwear, and lingerie sets that you know would send jj into a frenzy.

november 3rd, 11:37 pm.

"mmph..baby please." jj whimpers out, as he's on the verge of tears. he was so painfully hard that his boner was starting to physically hurt.

"baby please touch me..." he moans, his cock standing almost on its own, begging for some sort of release as sticky precum leaks from his tip.

you hold back a fit of giggles from escaping, as your fingers graze his inner thighs, teasing him. "should i touch you baby? didn't you say you were gonna last all November?" you tease

he whines loudly at you denying his pleas, "sweetheart, please—i promise ill be good for you, jus' touch me."

you look down at him with lustful eyes, moving your face down to level with his girthy cock, licking a slow stripe up his vein on the side, eliciting a loud whimper, that is disguised as a groan from him.

you bring your head up, swirling your tongue around his pink tip a few times, feeling the soft texture on your tongue.

before you can pull away, you feel the sensation of thick white ropes of his sticky essence coat your tongue, "m-mama...feels s' good." he moans loudly

you greedily swallow the remaints of his cum, the warm sensation causing a pooling between your legs. "guess you have to tell john b you already lost, huh?" you add with a laugh

he chuckles weakly from his position on the bed, "they know how horny i am all the time, they wont be surprised."

you giggle and climb up onto his lap, straddling him, and dipping your head down to his neck, leaving butterfly kisses in their wake "wanna return the favor?"

a/n: im sorry babes, my work has been so shitty and short recently, i promise its gonna be better soon :) but enjoy this blurb!!

978 notes · View notes

satoruxx · 1 year ago

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ANGEL ON MY SHOULDER.

✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader (hinted) | 5k words

✧ SUMMARY: ghost!reader, major character death, jjk manga spoilers, so much angst bc you literally die lmao, longing, mutual pining, suppressed feelings, everyone sucks at love, some fluff, banter, might be slightly suggestive, lots of hinted feelings (read: suguru), arguments, overall this is painful so read if you enjoy angst !!

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: this idea randomly came to me before i went to bed a few days ago and in the spirit of halloween, i figured why not? i live off of angst and need to share the pain with everyone lmao oops. this is late for halloween tho my bad !!

i. 2007

satoru brings one more flower than he did the day before. morning glories again, of course, but an extra one. he had added one more to the the bunch every day since the day you died. the first day, he brought three, wrapped with a cheap blue ribbon that he found in his desk drawer. it was hardly a respectable bouquet, but those three flowers were the ones he'd grown for you, so it only seemed fitting.

he didn't care much for gardening. but one day you asked shoko what her favorite flowers were so you could give her some on valentine's day. she asked you what yours were so she could return the favor.

satoru never forgot morning glories after that day.

he's not even sure if morning glories are appropriate to bring to a grave, but he knows you'd like them.

you would tell him it didn't matter anyway.

ii. 2007

(suguru did not cry when you died. satoru watched, intently, because there was nothing in the universe that his six eyes couldn't catch. he waited for it, even a sliver of emotion that would betray suguru's bleeding heart, but he gave nothing. he just stood in front of the stone that marked the end of your life with a deep stare. something had settled there in his eyes, cold and resolute.

a few months before you died, you had told satoru that there was something wrong with suguru. you said that he'd been distant, somewhere far away, and you worried for him. you always did, so open with your affection for him.

"don't want him to get lost." you had hummed, your shoulder brushing against satoru's as you raise the mango ice pop he brought you to your mouth. satoru watches your lips out of the corner of his eyes, his stomach flipping eagerly even as he keeps his face impassive.

"he said it was just the summer heat," he answers, ignoring the sweet mango juice dripping down his knuckles. "should be nothing."

you don't look all that convinced, turning your head to look up at him with meaningful glance. "you sure?"

he stares at you for a lengthy second, cerulean eyes darting over your facial features, before he reaches up and knocks his knuckle against your forehead. "yeah. he'll be fine." he assures, and your shoulders relax as you continue to eat the ice pop.

you were right about it all. four days after you die, suguru massacres an entire village.)

iii. 2008

satoru shifts in his bed, grunting quietly he begins to stretch his stiff joints. his eyes crack open, still heavy with sleep as he waits for his dark ceiling to come into focus. except it doesn't, because all he can see are a pair of very familiar looking eyes. unsaturated, but still so obviously the color he once knew. his own eyes snap open, all traces of sleep gone as he finally makes out someone who looks exactly like you, perched on his stomach with a confused and slightly panicked expression.

he shoots up, and you pull back a little. it looks like you're on his lap, and yet he can't feel you on him at all. he gulps.

"hey toru." you say quietly, and his stomach drops. the same eyes, the same voice. gods above.

"you're dead," he says simply, trying not to betray the way his pulse is jumping at even the smallest glimpse of you again. "you're not real."

"i'm dead," you confirm, nodding your head as you look down at your translucent palms. "but i'm here somehow."

he sucks in a breath, reaching out a hand as if to touch you. the disappointment he feels when it passes through your form is sickening.

you smile shakily, shrugging your shoulders as you attempt to make light of the situation.

"guess i couldn't stay away."

he stares at you for minutes without saying a word and you stare back, equally silent.

iv. 2007

(nanami had carried your body back, his teeth gritted as his blonde hair fell over his eyes. satoru never brought it up, but he knew that nanami remained bothered by it for the rest of his life. your death was bad timing, especially after they had just lost haibara a few weeks prior.

nanami had no reason to blame himself though. if anything, it was satoru's fault you were gone.

shoko had called him from the infirmary, her voice hard and pinched as she spat out three words: "get down here."

when satoru saw your body, he didn't say a word. just took a few long strides until he was at the table where nanami had placed you down. your eyes were shut, face resting in a way that seemed so unnatural. he opened his mouth to ask shoko something, but felt like he was choking on air, so he stopped himself.

then he grabbed your limp fingers, squeezed them gently. they were still a little warm, but not as warm as you usually run. shoko didn't say anything, just stood there with her hands clenched, short brown hair falling over her dark eyes.

satoru remained there for the next thirty minutes, waiting for you to sit up and laugh at the prank you were no doubt pulling. as if your blood wasn't still dripping all over the table.

shoko was the one who finally pulled a sheet over your body with shaking hands. she didn't look satoru in the eye, and didn't spare a glance when suguru burst into the room ten minutes later.)

v. 2008

it takes satoru a while to get used to the fact that you're not physically there. he has to bite his tongue when he moves to bump your shoulder or flick your forehead only to find that his skin goes right through yours. you always give him that same little rueful smile, and he sighs to himself.

he doesn't make an effort to figure out why you're there. he figures it's similar to how jujutsu users can come back as curses due to strong feelings. when he thinks about it though, guilt lodges itself into his throat, because the first thought he had when he heard you were entering death's door was no, don't you dare die.

every day he wonders if he's the one who cursed you to stay.

you act like it doesn't matter, hovering around him as he busies himself in his empty room. at first you're quiet, as though you've forgotten how to speak to him in your incorporeal form. but then you start asking him questions, and it's one question that satoru dreads to answer that you finally bring up.

"where's suguru?"

he's not stupid. he knows there's more you think of suguru than you've ever revealed. of course you'd want to know. but that doesn't mean he wants to be the one to tell you. you had died with nothing but a good impression of geto suguru. you'd probably died with your feelings for him still intact too.

it'd be selfish of satoru to ruin that.

"nothing, don't worry about it," he dismisses, voice clipped as he busies himself with preparing dinner. he knows that won't deter you.

you huff, moving to hover in his line of sight. you cross your arms as you glare at him seriously, and satoru hates how nostalgic your expression makes him feel. he tongues his cheek before sighing.

"he's gone." satoru answers simply. he tries to keep his tone even but it comes out bitter and strained. he can hear your quiet gasp, and feels your form move closer to him. if you were alive, he'd be able to feel your breath on his skin now.

"what do you mean, gone?"

satoru sighs again, turning to look at you completely. he hated everything about this. "he left school. went crazy. killed a bunch of people, including his parents."

he would've laughed at the comical way your jaw dropped if you didn't look so hurt. you sputter over your words as he picks up his bowl and moves to the table, trailing after him and demanding more information.

he doesn't hesitate to share, because he's always hated keeping secrets from you. you had this uncanny ability to see straight through him, and it never failed to make him feel unsettled. so he tells you everything that happened in the few weeks after you died. suguru leaving, their confrontation in shinjuku, his plans for non-sorcerers. he leaves nothing unsaid.

when he's done, he finally looks at you, trying to gauge your reaction. but you're just staring at his food with a bitter expression, brows pinched and lips pursed. satoru says your name once.

you glance at him, and it's too quick for him to look for any accusation in it. doesn't matter though, because he's ready to own up to his mistakes.

"you were right back then. about suguru." satoru admits quietly, turning to his food. he doesn't want to look at you anymore, because he's scared you'll show him how disappointed you are with him.

you don't say anything in response. but you sit down at the small dining table and watch him eat with soft eyes, one bite at a time. satoru doesn't admit it, but the whole time he imagines that you're gently rubbing his shoulder, and he thinks he hasn't missed you more than in that moment.

vi. 2007

(it was satoru's fault you died. if he hadn't been so selfish, you'd still be next to him, shoulder brushing his as the two of you walked through the streets of tokyo.

you had knocked on his door that morning before you had left for your last mission, rocking on your heels. he opened it groggily, still half asleep.

"you going on a mission?" satoru had yawned, drowsy eyes trailing over your uniform. you nod with a grin.

"mhm, with nanami. there are two separate areas with curses though, so we'll split up when we get there. should be simple enough." you shrug, toying with the collar of your uniform jacket.

satoru decides to be annoying. "then why are you here disturbing my sleep? get out." he groans dramatically, peering at you with narrowed eyes. you smack his arm, scoffing. you've stopped questioning why he keeps his infinity down for you do those things to him.

"i was gonna ask if you wanted to come with," you hiss, crossing your arms defensively. "but i'm taking it back, asshole."

he grins. "what? can't stay away?"

you roll your eyes, shaking your head with a sarcastic laugh. "don't flatter yourself."

satoru pauses for a second. "i was gonna go back to sleep." he admits, feeling a little guilty. he had just come back from a mission the night before, and he doesn't feel like leaving again. he doesn't know how to say that to you though.

but you see right through him, like you always do.

"you've been going on missions a lot lately," you smile earnestly, patting his shoulder. "no wonder you're tired."

"'m the strongest, i don't get tired." he protests, crossing his arms with a scoff. you roll your eyes again, sticking your tongue out at him as you heft your weapon over your shoulder.

"keep it up and you're seriously gonna fry your brain or something," you say with a shake of your head, eyes betraying your concern for him. he notices it, and tries to smother down the way it makes his stomach flip. "i'll be fine. you can come on my next mission with me."

fair enough, he thinks. he hadn't gone on missions with you or suguru in a while. he should remember to ask yaga to let him go on your next one. just the two of you. you and him. maybe he'd buy you a mango ice pop on the way back.

"fine." he acquiesces easily, not even thinking to protest. he'll see you later anyway, so he'll talk to you more when you get back.

you smirk a little, motioning to his bedhead, before gently kicking his shin. "go back to sleep then, stupid."

he rolls his eyes, reaching up to knock his knuckle against your forehead like he always does. "whatever. bring me some sweets on your way back, yeah?"

the laugh you give him as he shuts the door is the last thing he ever hears from you.

he should've gone with you.)

vii. 2012

satoru hates the way you're looking at him right now.

it was a stupid little mistake. he had gone to see little megumi and tsumiki earlier that afternoon, and as usual, you had tagged along with him. you'd watched him raise up the two kids over the last few years, never failing to tease about his newly acquired fatherhood, or how much he seemed to care about them despite his efforts to hide it. he didn't ever think to say that you'd helped him raise them up too. even in your incorporeal form you'd always been around to tell him what meals he could prep or to remind him that megumi liked black forest cake for his birthdays.

he'd gotten so used to you being around and he slipped up once. that afternoon when he had walked megumi home from school, teasing and poking fun at the kid, he'd made a stupid joke. megumi had rolled his eyes and told him to shut up.

and then without thinking, satoru had turned to you as you hovered next to him and groaned your name out dramatically before whining, "this kid is so mean to me!"

your eyes widened immediately, and if you were alive he'd probably see the color drain from your face. his stomach had sank and he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, even when megumi glanced at him with a raised brow.

"who are you talking to?" he asked, and satoru gulped, shaking his head as he broke eye contact with you to look down at the kid.

"nobody." he had answered.

he tries to ignore the meaningful stare you pin him with for the rest of the afternoon, hoping that you'll just forget about it. but as soon as satoru has left the kids and he's back in his own room, you're on him. he busies himself with making a cup of hot chocolate, even though he feels sick to his stomach.

"satoru you have to figure out how to get rid of me!" you plead, eyes so sad it makes his stomach churn. "i'm gonna drive you insane!"

"i'm fine!" he snaps back, shaking his head as he takes a sip from his mug, the warmth distracting him from whatever it was you were trying to remind him of. he places it down on the table in front of him and crosses his arms defensively. "it was a stupid mistake. won't happen again."

you shimmer in and out of focus, manifesting in front of him with a glare, though your eyes are still the same. wounded and hurt. "it wasn't and you know it! you can't keep living like this. i've been haunting you for years, toru!"

"well who asked you to go ahead and die?!" he yells without thinking, and it's like he sees your hurt bubble forth in slow motion.

"i went and died because i made a stupid mistake on a mission! quit blaming yourself, you dumbass!" you shout, voice raised higher than he's ever heard it.

satoru's mug shatters against the wall.

the two of you immediately turn to look at the mess with wide eyes, before slowly turning to each other to ensure that it really did happen.

"how'd you do that?" satoru asks quietly, his voice strained as he takes a few long strides towards you. you look down at your hand, the same one that you had lifted to swipe at his mug during your fit of rage. you look back up at him with wide eyes and parted lips. satoru's head is pounding, some kind of sick hope stirring within him. "you had to have touched it."

"i don't…" you trail off, voice filled with awe and a bit of fear. satoru reaches up a hand, ignoring the tremble in it, and moves to touch your face. he will never admit to the amount of times he begs in his head, please please please.

his hand goes straight though your skin, and your eyes soften. satoru lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, hiding his disappointment as he takes a step back and turns away.

viii. 2006

(satoru thinks gardening is ridiculous. plants are so fragile, needing to be constantly monitored and cared for like children. he can't understand why anyone would choose to garden as a hobby when there were less stressful things to do in spare time.

even the process was time consuming, he realizes as he scoops out piles of dirt into the small pots he had set out on his windowsill.

he thinks back to the silly little grin you had on your face as you answered shoko's question.

"morning glory," you had said, leaning against her shoulder. "i like the way they open in the morning and close at night."

shoko hummed, staring at the sky even as satoru quietly eavesdropped. "you got a favorite color?"

"the blue ones," you answered. "they're the prettiest."

your voice echoes in his head as he places the seeds into the soil, and he sighs heavily. why he was doing this for you was beyond him.

the thought makes him annoyed, and he huffs in frustration the entire time he plants them. gardening had to be the stupidest hobby ever.

and yet when three blue morning glories bloom against his windowsill, he can't hold back his grin.)

ix. 2017

satoru's grateful that you don't watch him kill suguru.

he tells you to go, and you give suguru a long stare, face pinched and sour even though your translucent eyes are shining. it's a shame suguru can't see you though, because satoru thinks you look so pretty. suguru would've been lucky to have you be the last thing he ever saw.

you turn away and disappear without a word, and after one last exchange, satoru finishes the job.

it's only after he watches rika's final goodbye to yuta does he realize the extent of what a goodbye even means. he'd said one to suguru, and yet he can't help but miss him as he walks back home. he wonders if suguru wouldn't have had to die if you were still around.

satoru had never gotten a goodbye with you though. you're somehow still with him, but he misses you so much. it puts an ugly feeling in his gut, twisted and dark. it weighs down on his shoulders as he finally opens the door to his room, heavy and overwhelming as he sees you sitting on his bed, face vacant.

he says your name, and you don't move. he takes a seat next to you, and something about your sad expression makes him so unbelievably angry.

"quit being sad about it," he finally spits out, the truthful extent of his feelings coming out. "it's not like you're even alive that you'd be able to see him."

you scoff as you give him a sidelong glare. "what's that supposed to mean? one of my closest friends just died and you expect me not to be upset about it?"

"at least he'll find a way to you!" satoru hisses, clenching his fists so hard that his nails leave crescents in his skin. "you two can have fun together for all of eternity."

there's a tense silence that follows as he grits his teeth, turning away from you. he's so disgusted right now. with suguru, with you, with himself.

"i'm all by myself." satoru mutters bitterly, the words so foreign on his tongue as the truth hits him.

god he misses you so much.

he suddenly feels a sharp thwack on the back of his head and he's turning around with wide eyes.

"don't you dare forget about shoko!" you hiss, tears in your eyes as you glare at him, hand raised. "i'll never forgive you!"

his throat goes dry, because the smack you just gave him was the first time you'd touched him since the day you died. there's a storm in his throat that threatens to break free, but he tries to keep it lodged in his throat. even with your teary eyes, he thinks you look just as pretty as you did with life flowing through you.

he misses suguru. he knows you do too, because there are translucent tears dripping down your cheeks and he has never ached to touch you more. but he can't because you're dead.

you remain in front of him all night, barely saying a word in between your sniffles. he doesn't say anything either, just watching you.

he doesn't know what there is to say. the only thing he ever wishes he got to say to you was goodbye. but you're here, in front of him, so a goodbye seems pointless.

when the sun comes up, you wish him a merry christmas, and he swears you never left him.

satoru says it back to you. you smile sadly.

he misses you so much.

x. 2007

(satoru had cleaned out your dorm room three days after you died.

he didn't really understand why he was doing it so early. shoko had frowned when he told her that he planned to pack away your things, frowned in a way that made her look like she disagreed.

well even if she did disagree, it didn't stop her from sitting in your desk chair, chewing on her nail quietly as she watched satoru fold your clothes. he didn't even understand why he was doing this.

maybe it was because every time he walked past your empty dorm room he felt sick to his stomach. there was a twisting feeling in his gut when he realized that you'd never curl up in that bed again. never sit by the window with a grin watching him and suguru bicker as they threw playing cards on the floor. he figured the faster he got rid of your remnants, the quicker the feeling would go away.

that's what he's hoping anyway. but when he picks up your jujutsu uniform he feels something claw at his throat, and he unconsciously digs his fingers into the fabric. he hears a sigh from behind him and then shoko is at his side, wordlessly easing the cloth from his hand. she lays it on the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles before folding it carefully. when she places it into the box, satoru thinks her hands shake a bit.

there's a bitter expression on shoko's face that he's never seen before, and it makes his stomach twist.

they work on your room for the next few hours, until the sun has disappeared behind the horizon and the cool evening breeze bullies its way into your old space. neither of them say anything, save for the occasional nostalgic hum as they remember something that you did or they're reminded of the story behind one of the trinkets in your room. otherwise it's silent, and for a second satoru feels like he can hear your laugh.

it isn't until night has completely fallen that they are interrupted.

"what are you doing?"

satoru turns around just as shoko looks up, both of them finding suguru standing in the doorway. he hadn't taken a step in yet, eyes still trailing over the emptiness of your old room from behind an uncrossed line.

"cleaning." satoru answers, his voice oddly clipped.

"it wasn't messy…" suguru mutters back, his lips slanting in such an unusual way. there was an uncharacteristically determined look in his eyes, as though there was something in him that was struggling to burst forth. satoru didn't understand what it was.

"never said it was." satoru replies noncommittally. he hears shoko inhale deeply, shifting in your old chair as she watches the two of them stare at each other. there's a tense silence as he notices suguru frown.

satoru can't remember the last time he even had a full conversation with suguru. he remembers seeing you leave for your last mission, and he wants to kick himself for not asking earlier to be sent on group missions with the two of you.

even now, he doesn't really know what to say to suguru. all he can do is tighten his fingers around the edge of the box with your stuff neatly packed in, and watch his best friend sigh.

suguru wets his lips, eyes darting over your desk. there's an odd expression on his face, and his brows pinch as he notices something. then suguru reaches out to pick up an old polaroid, and satoru knows exactly which one it is. your arms slung around suguru's shoulders, smile so wide your cheeks probably hurt. suguru's expression was uncharacteristically gentle.

satoru remembers it so well, because he's the one who took the picture.

suguru looks at the polaroid without a word, rubbing the corner between his thumb and forefinger, and his expression suddenly mirrors the gentleness in the picture. his eyes remain stormy, deep and unsettling as he reaches conclusions that satoru will never understand.

the three of them stay quiet for a few minutes, even though satoru has so many questions that he can't figure out how to phrase. shoko toys with a cigarette between her lips, leaving it unlit because you've always hated the smell of smoke. suguru just stands there, silently eyeing your unfiltered smile through the lens of a camera.

satoru wonders if suguru's trying to say goodbye to you. he doesn't ask, and suguru doesn't say.

only after something had clicked in suguru's eyes, did satoru realize something was over. he couldn't help but feel like he had just buried you in that cardboard box with all your things, and he swallows hard.

then suguru clenches his fists, veins flexing as he looks around your room, almost like he was committing it to memory. satoru didn't understand why; it's not like suguru couldn't come see your room anytime he wanted.

then he turns away, hand lingering on the doorframe heavily, without another word.

just as suguru walks away, satoru thinks he hears your voice whispering in his ear.

"don't want him to get lost."

xi. 2018

something is wrong. something happened. something is wrong.

satoru knows he needs to wake up. but he's so tired, so exhausted from carrying on all by himself. he suddenly remembers the taste of frozen mango, sweet and chilled, and he wants to keep thinking about it for the rest of eternity.

but something is wong. he needs to wake up.

the minute satoru forces his eyes open, he can ignore the taste of blood in his mouth because you're there.

you're kneeling at his side, sunlight shining behind your head in a way that makes you look almost angelic. he'd believe it if you said you were an angel, because you've been dead for so long now.

you'd been a ghost for so many years, hovering around him and getting him through everything that had come his way. isn't that what guardian angels were supposed to do, guiding humans through their own trials? isn't that what you were doing to him since the day you died and came back to him?

you'd been a ghost. you'd been his angel. you'd been haunting him.

you'll always haunt him.

you seem to know it too, because the expression on your face is understanding, soft and yet so sad.

for what seems like the millionth time in his life, satoru aches to touch you.

he tries to move his hand but finds that he can't. synapses misfire. he can't feel his body anymore.

he wants to touch you. gods above, he wants to touch you so badly. please just this one last wish.

your translucent forms shimmers in the sunlight, and satoru can't tell if he's hallucinating or not because you suddenly seem to become fully physical. the particles of your form solidify, slowly filling with more color until you don't look quite so dilute. the saturation of your eye color comes back, and satoru can't look away because he's never seen a ghost so pretty before.

his breath hitches as you gently cup his cheek in your palm, warm and gentle. the melancholic look on your face makes his eyes sting.

"it's good to see you." he says with a weak smile, ignoring the metallic taste on his tongue. his breath is short, mind racing because your skin is on his again. finally, after so many years. you're so soft, just like he remembers.

"you weren't supposed to join me this quick." you sigh, eyes shining as you smile down at him ruefully. your thumb brushes over his bottom lip, and satoru's cerulean eyes flutter.

no. no more waiting. he'd missed you too much. he doesn't have it in him to stay away from you anymore. he'd done it long enough. your fingers tremble against his skin and he almost laughs.

no more haunting.

there's a resolute part of him that knows you'll be the first thing he sees when he gets to wake up again. he decides that, when he does, he'll get you a mango ice pop and plant some morning glories with you.

his eyes fall shut with a sigh.

"guess i couldn't stay away."

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diy-dynamite · 12 days ago

Text

Longing for Home (1)

Mr. Crawling x Reader || feminine terms used (wedding dress 😭) so I think this is for the fems... I'm sorry guys

Contents: spoilers for one of Homicipher's endings that I don't remember, NOT a part of my "Television" series (but I might make a version of this for that)

********

YOU never found your way back home. With your skin stained with red, rash-like patches, and with your body slowly conforming through regenerative cycles, your home is no longer the one you knew.

This is your home.

Your home is in this strange building.

Your home is in the room next to Mr. Silvair and Mr. Chopped's.

Your home is on one of the two hospital beds that stand next to each other.

Your home is standing in front of you.

Or crawling, rather.

He was leading you back to the room after your usual wandering, collecting cute trinkets from the piles that fell from the human world. You came back with an arm full of things, and surprisingly, the majority were makeup.

Not the major glam kind, but stuff like lip gloss, lipstick, mascara, and powdery stuff for the eyes that you can't remember—and it hurts that you forgot what it was.

You laid them out on your bed, Mr. Crawling sitting on the ground next to you, looking at what you brought back with a puzzled look on his face.

He called all of them "things," which isn't entirely wrong.

Pop! An idea went off in your sneaky little head.

"You like me?" you asked out of the blue, turning to him with lip gloss in hand.

He tilted his head and chirped a little, ridiculing your question. "I like you? I love you many. You tired?" he asked, as if to say, "Is the fatigue messing with you?"

You laughed. He smiled. "Not tired!" you explained, then you sat down in front of him. You gestured him closer, so he did as you asked and crawled a couple of inches closer to you.

"You do something for me," you said.

"...?"

"Don't move."

...

"Don't move!!" you laughed, finally putting lipstick on him properly. He was struggling to hold still, the feeling of the lipstick irritating him.

"So cute!" you said, hoping to calm him down with a compliment as you shut the lipstick lid. "Cute! Cute!"

"Strange..." he mumbled, reaching up to wipe it off, but he didn't do it. He couldn't. Not when you said he was cute this way. "I cute...?"

You nodded, beaming brightly, and he couldn't resist it, so he didn't remove the lipstick.

As you rummaged in your little collection, you found a magazine full of ladies with white, majestic, beautiful dresses. Almost like The Bride's, but way more... lively.

No.

Way more alive.

Just how long will it take for you to lose all that feeling?

No—if you long for it, then it must've already been missing.

The home you knew is a place you can never reach again.

That's where your heart is. That's why your chest feels so hollow.

Do you even have a heart anymore?

You pressed a hand against your chest, and you felt a pang of envy for the smiling woman and man on the front page. Technically, you were never alone. You had Mr. Crawling!

That didn't help how you felt, though.

Jealousy.

Longing, nostalgia, and jealousy.

A longing for that human feeling, a nostalgia for your childhood dreams, and jealousy, because you no longer had that within your reach while others do.

You threw the magazine over your shoulder, and you buried your face on your mattress, knees still on the floor, and you tried to get rid of the heaviness on your chest.

You didn't cry.

It just... hurts.

***

It felt like ages—Mr. Crawling came in and out, bringing in various people to try and check on you after his own attempts failed. Mr. Silvair didn't do anything. He didn't know what to do. Mr. Chopped tried to console you with his silly faces—the expressions you showed and taught him with your own face—but to no avail. He even dragged in Mr. Stitch—and he hates that fellow—albeit bloody from Mr. Crawling forcing him to follow, but you didn't look up at all. He shoved Mr. Stitch right back out once he didn't work, though.

He was starting to panic. You never did this before.

He tried to think back to anyone else who you seemed to tolerate the presence of, but... oh!

The pile of pages you threw! That was the last thing that you touched before you shut yourself off!

He picked it up, looking at it with a puzzled coo. He didn't understand it, but he noticed that in most of the pages, there were people like you who were smiling happily together. He wondered why.

Oh! Maybe you wanted a new dress! Is that it?

He glanced at you and tried to show you the book again, but you only inched away. At least he knew now not to do that again....

He quickly left the room and glanced down the halls.

Then with one huff, he recited: "Clothes!"

"Clothes?"

He giggled when he saw The Bride appear.

"You hurt...?" she pointed at his face. Specifically, his mouth.

Mr. Crawling proudly showed it off, smiling. "They put it. They say I cute."

She raised a white dress, trying to offer it to him, but he shook his head.

"They sad," he said. He raised the book. "Clothes."

The Bride, elegant and poised, glanced at the book with her non-existant eyes (and head). "Wonderful! Wonderful, cute!"

"Clothes," he pointed at one of the dresses. He liked this one, specifically, where the dress wasn't as puffy as the others, but not as skinny. There were white clothes for the hands (gloves) and for the legs (stockings), and there was a strange but aesthetically pleasing clump of cloth on the back (a rose made of silk).

"They look cute, this."

"I make!" The Bride nodded eagerly. If she had a head, she'd be smiling the same way the humans in the book were. "I make, I give!"

It didn't take long—she disappeared, and Mr. Crawling waited outside your door for only a moment until she came back with an even prettier version of the dress.

Mr. Crawling, trying to contain his excitement, chirped happily and let The Bride enter your room.

You were still there, curled over your bed, but you were putting the same red thing you put on his.

If he had eyes, they'd be sparkling. He had no idea what you did to yourself, but you looked... even better than you already did. Which is saying something—you were everything to him, and now you have such a pretty shade over your eyes, and your lips were like his!

"You hurt?!" The Bride gasped again.

You let out a strained laugh. Mr. Crawling knew it wasn't a real one. "Not hurt. I... make me cute."

"You cute! Before!" The Bride said. "Cute now, cute before."

"They cute," Mr. Crawling agreed simply. "Give! Give!" he urged the ghost-woman in white.

"Give," she extended the dress to you.

You stared.

And stared.

And you... began to cry.

Mr. Crawling panicked, and so did The Bride. There you were, kneeling next to your bed with tears running down your face. Mr. Crawling immediately took his place beside you, holding your head in his hands as he tried to console you.

"I sorry," he said, but he didn’t know what for. "I sorry, don't sad... I sorry—"

He would've apologised on and on if it weren't for how the black streaks appeared from your eyes.

You looked even prettier to him.

He loved it when you smiled, but he dies a little more than he already did, figuring out that you were so pretty when you cried.

"No, no," you said, wiping the black gunk off your face. "I—I love—" you pointed at the dress. "So—so wonderful, can't—can't.... You...!"

Your shaky hands held his face, and he didn't know what to do.

"You... kind... can't cry not," you continued to sob.

"...you kind," he mumbled in return. He's still confused, though.

***

Did this ho just assume you wanted a new dress??? Because he wasn't entirely wrong. Or maybe that's just you trying to justify it all.

Even if you tried, you can't stop crying. He doesn't comprehend the layers of what you feel yet, but he still tried, and you can't. Stop. Crying.

"You're so sweet," you began to ramble in your own language. You cupped his cheek with your hand and your lower lip trembled. "You're so sweet and nice and you always look after me and I—agh, I can't—I hate how nice you are, it's annoying, I love you so much," you sobbed.

He didn't understand at all. Even you yourself didn't—you're losing your knowledge in your own language and you can't stop crying.

You're sad. You're angry, you're missing what you used to have, you're happy, you—

Your weeping calmed.

You realised something.

A sliver of human shame entered your face, embarrassment for crying, but as well as another thing. You can't quite tell what it is.

Mr. Crawling seemed hopeful, leaning a little closer to make sure you're okay.

You wiped your tears away and stood up, hoping they'd just forget about it.

"Thank you," you said to The Bride. She seemed confused, but so were you, so it's fine. "I appreciate. Clothes, wonderful."

"Thank you," she clasped her hands together as you took the dress away. "You are wonderful. Farewell," she hesitated but left, anyway.

"You ask they make clothes for me?" you asked Mr. Crawling, going behind the curtain that separated the two beds.

He tilted his head. "Yes."

"I appreciate," you said, wiping your face down with the blankets of the other bed.

After a moment of shuffling into the new dress, you suddenly froze.

Were you gonna cry again...?

No, no—you were nervous.

Why?

You glanced over your shoulder to see Mr. Crawling, expectant, and, as before, confused.

You peeked your head out, and he lit up with a smile. "I unsure."

"....?" he frowned a little. "Unsure?"

~~~

"Honey, I'm not sure."

"What? Why?" he laughed. "We did agree to this, right?" he joked. You would've laughed, but right now, your thoughts were too clouded for you to even form a grin.

"Yeah, but..." you bit your tongue, wary.

Your fiance—no, your husband laughed. "Sweetheart, nothing will go wrong. It's just a superstition."

But what if it isn't?

You glanced down at yourself, clad in a shiromuku. You heard one of the guests say they'd "go home" (a superstition in Japan that they say might jinx the marriage). What if something bad happens, now?

Before you could overthink, his hands clasped over yours, his long, black hair only sealing his own black-coloured attire, his effortless ethereality catching you off guard again.

"No matter what happens, I'll be right next to you. It doesn't matter what the guests say," he said, pressing a light kiss on your knuckles.

You felt your cheeks bloom, and your heart only sunk deeper in the well of love you carried for him.

"And as much as you're adorable when you cry...." he then said, so you smacked his arm with a playful laugh. He responded with a giggle of his own and only held you closer.

"Let's head back inside, okay?" he smiled and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. "Staying in the garden for too long might make the guests assume something."

That earned him another smack, and that made him give you another laugh.

He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, but there wasn't any. He just wanted to hold your face.

He smiled.

"I love you so much."

********

This is already way too long so I'll just have to make a part 2 SIGH

#♡ azalea ♡#homicipher #homicipher x reader #mr crawling #mr crawling x reader #fluff #light angst #homicipher fluff #idk #wedding #IDK BRUH

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sincerelyrki · 7 months ago

Text

but i love the taste of you

Heeseung never did enjoy lollipops, their overrated taste never interesting him. But perhaps tasting it from your lips could change everything. As for the laptop? It just happened to be in the perfect place, at the perfect time.

pairing : bf!heeseung x fem!reader

warnings + genre : smut. profanity. licking. biting. heeseung is lowkey obsessed. unprotected sex (pls don’t!). oral (both ways). kissing over a lollipop (trust 🙏). recording. switch!heeseung. switch!reader. little bit of degrading (just a bit, promise). spit it mentioned a few times. 18+. mdni.

wc : 3.9k

a/n : you can probably see my addiction to secondhand tasting [ cherry lips, a cherry for my cherry, and now this one… (the lollipop was def cherry flavoured in my head)] anyways, this is only my second time writing full smut so please lmk how i did! fb + rbs are always appreciated <3

Heeseung sat with his jaw clenched; hands fisting by his side as he watched your lollipop glide down your tongue, satisfying pops sounding out whenever you pulled it from your mouth.

He felt like he was losing his mind, his patience wearing thin the longer he listened to your soft hums of delight.

The sounds were identical to the ones he had you making just hours ago, your body still clad in nothing but his t-shirt and your cute little panties.

You were daunting him, you had to be. There was no other explanation as to why you were making all these erotic sounds, why you were licking your lollipop in the same way you had done to him that same morning.

Heeseung rose to a stand, feet bringing him towards you without hesitation. He stood tall in front of you, his body blocking your vision from your computer’s screen.

“I can’t see, baby. Can you please move over?” You looked up at him over your lashes, wide eyes matching your perfectly pouted lips.

Heeseung swore under his breath, his pants tightening as he laid a firm hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you to lean back against the couch.

You sat back with a smirk, teeth still pressing down on the lollipop stick. At first, you didn’t mean to make the whole scene suggestive, but you’d never pass up the opportunity to tease your boyfriend.

You knew how easily he got turned on, how easy it was for you to turn him to putty in your hands. It wasn’t that you always took advantage of it, but there’s no harm in doing it every once in a while.

Especially when he looked as good as he did now, his messy hair - courtesy to you- stirring your arousal as the reminder of your long morning came rolling back.

You sat still under him, your eyes never leaving his heated ones, basking in the way he glared down at you. You had been fantasizing about his reaction, about how rough he would take you.

There’s nothing that irritated Heeseung more than when his good girl teased him, but there’s also nothing that turned him on more.

There was something about your innocent facade, your delicate eyes staring at him with the warmth of the morning sun. Something about the way you conceived everyone into thinking you were some perfect, flawless, princess.

The way you convinced everyone that you were nothing like how you actually were, you’re just a brat wearing a pretty face. But you were only Heeseungs brat, something he proved to you whenever he could.

Heeseung turned his back towards you, bending at the waist to pick up your computer. He rolled his eyes at the rotting footage playing across from him, some random romance sitcom with no specific plot.

It was the same genre you always chose to indulge in, sitting pretty while your brain worked on autopilot to create its own interpretations of how these soulless actors would portray these tedious scenes.

That’s when an idea hit Heeseung, one that he’d been fantasizing about since the day he first touched you. What better movie is there to watch, than the one you create with the person you love?

It was perfect, everything about it.

And so Heeseung turned back around, putting his weight on one knee and he moved the other on your other side. He sat down on your plush thighs, straddling you as you sunk deeper into the couch.

You had long lost eye contact your the man before you, the computer blocking your sight. You ignored the way your show suddenly turned quiet, rolling your eyes at what you thought was Heeseung being over dramatic.

But what he had done next, was something that you’d be thinking about the next time you needed some sort of relief, your hands down your parties as you pleasured yourself to the thought of your boyfriend.

Heeseung placed the computer on the side table, the two of you fitting perfectly in frame. He barely glanced at the screen before he grabbed your jaw, one hand holding it as the other pressed down on your bottom lip.

Two sides of Heeseung’s fingers touched against the lollipop in your mouth, sandwiching it between his fingers as he pried your mouth open.

You looked up at Heeseung in shock, the lollipop sitting loose in your mouth as you allowed him to control your body in the ways he wanted.

“You know, I’m not a huge fan of lollipopsâ€¦” Heeseung trailed off, his fingers crawling from your mouth and onto your tongue. He swiped two fingers across the sugary surface of the lollipop, trailing it in a line across one side of the candy.

He then dragged his fingers from the lollipop, across your tongue, and to your lips. He used his fingers to rub the sweetness across your mouth, a sweet coat of sugar replacing your long smudged lipgloss.

“But I love the taste of you.” He used the same two fingers to pull the candy from your mouth, leaning it to vertically press against your lips. He leaned down to your face, pressing his lips to the other side of the lollipop.

He then angled the stick in a way that allowed the lollipop to stick in the middle of both of your lips, the taste transferring to the both of you.

He closed his eyes, uncaring of the fact that yours were wide open and staring directly at him. He gently stuck out his tongue, removing his lips enough to run his tongue across the side of the lollipop.

He turned his head as his tongue slowly moved across it, eventually meeting the end and ending on the corner of your lips.

Heeseung stayed in that position, his lips barely touching yours as he let out a quiet hum, licking the sugar off his lips as he reopened his eyes. “Delicious” He pressed a small peck to the side of your lips, pulling back to sit up straight.

Heeseung was still holding the lollipop to your lips, only this time he turned the stick so the end was facing towards his chest, the candy facing towards your mouth.

He made a show of opening his mouth, sticking out his tongue as he let a hushed “a” sound leave his lips.

He gave you a small smirk as you followed his command, lips opening wide as you stuck your tongue out the same way. “Good girl” Heeseung cooed at you in a tone that was anything but proud.

He pushed the candy back in your mouth, using his other hand to close your jaw around it. “You’re so pretty like this, with your dirty lips wrapped around something.” Heeseung quirked an amused eyebrow as you responded to his degrading words with a whine, furrowed eyebrows staring up at him.

“Oh? You don’t look pretty with something in your mouth?” You whined again, eyebrows furrowing even more. Heeseung tilted his head to the side, face pulling up in an unfamiliar way.

“Lips aren’t dirty” You tried speaking through your closed mouth, words barely recognizable. Heeseung humorlessly chucked at your words, a proud grin settling on his face.

“M’sorry baby, you have the prettiest lips.” Your forehead smoothed as you sunk back down, satisfied with his answer. “Should we show the camera?”

Heeseung leaned over to grab the laptop, his teeth on display as he replayed your reaction in his head. The way your body tensed at his words, eyes widening a fraction and legs jolting.

“You must think I'm dumb, don’t you? Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” You were filled with the same desires as Heeseung, your fantasy of recording each other haunting you every time you have sex.

“I know my dumb baby too well, there isn’t anything I haven’t already seen.” Heeseung was now watching their reflection on the screen, his desire growing as he watched the way you began pushing against him.

“Is my baby getting needy?” Through the screen he watched as you rapidly nodded, teeth still pressing down on the lollipop. “Good, let’s show the camera how pretty your lips are first.”

Heeseung brought the laptop up between the two of you, holding it near your chest as he stared down at you, “hold it.”

With the laptop held securely in your hands, Heeseung turned his attention back to your candy. This time, he opened your mouth in a different way.

He pushed down on the lollipop, forcing your mouth to open due to the pressure. He slowly slid it out from your mouth, his mouth salivating as the sweet scent reached his nose.

The camera got a close-up of the way a small string of saliva connected from your mouth to the candy, caught the way it disappeared as Heeseung’s head swooped in from over the laptop as pressed against yours.

Filthy sounds filled the room, your messy kiss being caught from a lowered angle. Though many might now think the angle would be ideal, it was nothing less than perfect.

It perfectly captured the way Heeseung’s tongue wrapped around yours, the way your head chased after his as he pulled back to change angles.

It caught everything, including your pretty moans.

Heeseung carelessly tossed the lollipop behind him, the table close enough for it to land on without having to look. He moved both of his hands to wrap around your waist, his hands pressing down on your curves.

“Wait, let me fix the camera” You stuttered mid-sentence, mouth refusing to leave his as you placed the laptop on the couch beside the two of you, everything above your knees visible.

Heeseung slid his hands under your shift, sliding it up and over your head in a vast movement, disconnecting your lips for no more than five seconds before pressing against you again.

His hands squeezed at your skin, his hands coming up to grope at you.

Your head tilted back with a loud moan as he disconnected your lips to kiss the exposed skin at the top of your bra, his hands pushing your tits up as he sucked dark marks onto your skin.

He acted like a man who’d never seen a pair of breasts before, ravaging them like a starved man. He moved lower down your legs as he undid your bra, kissing and sucking spots along his path until he reached your pants.

Heeseung slid off the couch, slotting himself between your open legs as he bit along your lower stomach, kissing your stretch marks as he appreciated your entire body.

“My girl is so pretty, the prettiest girl in the world.” He mumbled out, sounding drunk off your skin. “So so pretty” He repeated over and over as he placed more and more kisses.

He slid his hands back down towards your legs, fingers wrapping around your waistline before he looked up at you, eyes hooded as he waited for your consent.

At your nod, Heeseung quickly undid your pants, pulling them down and off your legs. Your panties quickly followed, getting tossed across the room in a random pile that would soon be joined by his clothes.

Due to the shift of weight, the laptop toppled over to the side, landing in the perfect view of Heeseung between your legs. It was a sight worth millions, the sight of a man who was actually willing to sacrifice anything to get a taste of pussy.

Heeseung pulled your legs over his shoulder, using his hands to pull your body closer to his face. His eyes closed with a loud hum, the familiar smell enveloping his senses in the most pleasurable way possible.

“You smell so good, I love you so much” Heeseung spoke once before placing a small kiss against your folds, one of his hands coming up to spread you for him.

He gave your inner thigh one last kiss before he leaned in, his lips wrapping around your clit as his vibrations caused mass pleasure to wring out across your body.

Your back arched as his tongue circled you, your sensitive nerves reacting to his loving movements. Heeseung always started slow, paying attention to your most pleasurable parts as he submerged himself into you.

His tongue was now replaced with his thumb, fast circled getting rubbed against you as he stuck his tongue flat against your opening, slowly curling it as he collected whatever juices he could.

A mixture of his spit and your arousal was nothing more than his wettest dreams, the taste automatically beating the one of the sugary lollipops. He could happily drown within you, the only way he’d ever want to go.

After a few minutes of prolonging your orgasm, he finally decided to finish it off, bringing you to your most craved high.

He pushed his fingers into you, his tongue replacing the spot his thumb was moments prior. As good as Heeseung’s fingers felt, nothing compared to his tongue.

It felt like magic, the way he was able to make you feel so much in such a short amount of time. Your back arched as your legs quivered around his head, thighs tightening around his head as your heels dug into his clothes back.

Broken moans left your lips, the sound rising the more you felt the waves coming up. Heeseung felt it too, the way you clenched around his fingers while your hips began rocking against your face.

He used the hand that was wrapped around one of your tights to go up and press against your lower stomach, pushing on it as your high washed over you.

Loud slurps and moans filled the room, your breath caught in your throat as your back arched as far as it could. Heeseung felt you through it, both his fingers and to continue moving unrelentingly.

“Too much.” You gently shinned, legs still shaking as Heeseung licked you clean. He hummed against you, removing his fingers as he finished off, “I know baby, I know.”

Heeseung sat back up, one of his hands grabbing at the bottom of his shit to pull it off his head. You watched through tired eyes as your boyfriend palmed himself through his pants, head tilting forwards as his eyes stayed glued to your face.

It was a habit that Heeseung couldn’t seem to shake, the action starting when your relationship first started. You used to get shy after Heeseung ate you out, cheeks heating up as you tried hiding yourself.

Obviously, you weren’t shy anymore, the hundreds of minutes he’d spent between your legs long swishing that shyness.

While you were calming down and preparing yourself again, Heeseung busied himself with getting undressed. He removed each article of clothing, throwing them roughly in the same direction as yours.

The sight of your boyfriend bare before your eyes caused your body to light up with electricity once again, legs tingling as you obsessed with the way his cock twitched at your watchful eyes.

Heeseung leaned down to grab the laptop, placing it on the table that it was on, to begin with, one that gave it the sight of the entire couch.

You changed positions, turning your back towards the roof as you crawled towards one side of the couch, arching your back for your boyfriend as you playfully looked over your shoulder at him.

“I’m not going to fuck myself.” You fluttered your eyelashes, arousal growing as Heeseung playfully snickered at you in disbelief. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you so good.”

He kneels on the couch behind you, hands spreading your ass as he pushes himself to glide between your lips. He coated himself with your wetness before sinking into you, bottoming out as you pushed yourself back into him.

His nails dug into your love handles, grabbing them for stability as he pushed himself into you. His head fell back as he felt himself continuously bottom out.

It was rare that you went without a condom, and there was no better feeling than the friction of your bare skin rubbing together.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” A loud pitch moan left your lips in response, a little more dramatic due to the camera recording you.

Heeseung could feel himself losing control, the warm feeling of being inside of you chasing his hips to push into you harder.

Quiet swears left his lips as he found his constant pace, hips hitting against yours as he leaned over your back, hands leaving your hips to wrap around your hands.

He pushed your hands down against the couch, his new angle allowing him to get more depth.

“Please, I want to cum whilst riding you.” Heeseung swore one last time before pulling out, flipping your position as he leaned his back against the back of the couch.

Your feet pressed against his legs, hips raised as you used your hand to place his dick against you. You circled his tip around your entrance one time before you sunk onto him, hand moving down to play with his balls as you bounced up and down.

Heeseung threw his head back, eyes narrowing to slits as his pleasure weighed down his body. One of his hands rubbed up your body, grabbing your chest as the other squeezed the soft skin of your waist.

He turned his attention toward the area where the two of you were connected, his mouth drying as he watched a ring of white froth form at his base.

His abdominal muscles contracted as he trusted his hips forward, louder clapping filling the room as he changed the tempo.

There was a moment where both of your eyes met, the primal desire mirroring back through your own reflections. Heeseung gave you a small smirk, one side of his mouth quirking up.

He winked at you once before he grabbed your hand, his fingers wrapping around the entirety of yours as he brought it to grab his neck.

“Use me” You tightened your hand around his neck at his suddenly sultry whisper, knees burning as you dropped against him harder.

You bent forward, chest bumping against him as you used your hands to tilt his head back, his hair falling back to reveal his damp forehead.

You pressed your tongue against the top of his sternum, licking a strip up until your nose touched his earlobe, teeth replacing its spot as you bit down on him.

His back arched beneath you, small sounds leaving his lips as you marked him. You treated his neck the same way you had the lollipop, using him the way he liked.

“You feel so good.” Heeseung breathlessly praised you, his voice coming out higher than usual. It was easy to tell when Heeseung was getting close, the way he started touching your body more.

Even with Heeseung under you, he always made sure you came undone first. The way your pleasure contoured your body caused his own long-awaited high to multiply tens fold.

Though the feeling of his skin against yours caused a euphoric sensation to ring out across your body, you couldn’t stop yourself from teasing him a little more.

You halted your body, palms pushing down on your boyfriend's hips to stop his constant buckling.

“I want to make you feel good before.” You rose higher on your knees, only his tip remaining in as you shot him your best attempt of an innocent smile.

Heeseung tried not to let your words affect him, the pleasure that faded with the lack of stimulation returning at the thought of your lips wrapping around him.

“I much prefer you over the lollipop, nothing compares to the way you fill me.”

Heeseung let out a shaky breath as his left leg began to shake, arms flexing as he fisted the cushions under him. “Fuck, do whatever you��d like, I’ll take anything you’re willing to give me.”

You removed him from you completely, your palm reaching up towards his lips as you looked at him with an expected gaze. Heeseung puckered his lips out, a sizable drop of spit landing between the crevices of your fingers.

“That’s not enough.” You clicked your tongue at him, faux disapproval seeping out through your lips as you pulled your hand away from him. “You’re lucky I'm still wet, I'll just have to do it myself.”

You reached down, fingers collecting your wetness before you wrapped your hand back around him. Heeseung’s mouth fell open as you placed a small kiss against the base of his shaft, a trail of kisses following your hand as you slowly moved it up.

A sudden whimper left his mouth as you hollowed your cheeks around him, the suction perfectly squeezing around him.

His sounds only rose as you added your tongue, the soft muscle tracing along his prominent vein. He almost forgot about the laptop, a small red light reminding him of the almost hour-long video.

He stared directly into the camera, maximizing his expressions knowing that sooner or later, you’d be watching this back. He knew what got you off, what he could do to make you feel as good as possible.

It was completely mutual, your knowledge of his body aiding in drawing out a loud, genuine, sound from his pretty lips.

His back lifted from the couch, body flinching as your finger pressed against his perineum, sharp shocks of pleasure shooting across his body.

His breath caught in his chest as his hand shot out to grab your head, your hair fisting in his hands as he pushed you down further.

He didn’t stop, not even after hearing your choking sounds. As said before, he knew exactly what you liked.

He wasn’t the only one who enjoyed being choked, you just experienced it differently.

You continued stimulating his prostate through his perineum, spit dribbling down from the corners of your lips as you drew him closer to his orgasm.

He barely warned you before letting go in your mouth, the only telltale being the trembling of his legs.

You tried your best to swallow everything he gave you, his familiar salty taste replacing the coating of sweetness in your throat.

You pulled back, tongue peaking out to lap at the drops you had missed before, cleaning him from your shared mess.

Heeseung panted from above you, his eyes closed as his heart pounded loudly in his chest. He felt the way you raised from your knees, your hand wrapping around his jaw as you pulled him in for a messy kiss.

The taste of himself no longer caused any reaction, he’d long gotten used to tasting himself on your tongue after you’d gone down on him.

“You’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow.” Heeseung said completely seriously, masking the truth behind his words with a joking tone.

“That’s just the way I like it.” You replied back, scooting back to rest your head against the arm of the couch, legs spreading for your boyfriend to get a good view of what you were going to do next.

“I’m ready when you are, show me how good you can treat me.” You never looked away from his eyes as you pressed your finger down against your clit, basking in the way his cock twitched at you.

“Or are you too tired?” Heeseung rolled his eyes at you, his body moving to hover over yours as he pushed himself between your legs.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” You returned his wolfish grin, hand leaving your body to grab his waist, pulling his hips against yours.

“Show me.”

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dollfacefantasy · 9 months ago

Note

I love your writing sm, it's just what I needed μ_μ Do you think you could write Leon being the father of reader's idiot ex who just broke up with her? Leon just wants to console her and the reader only thinks about all the sexual tension they had for a while and now they have nothing to stop them.

(sorry if my english is bad, luv ya)

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: your ex boyfriend's dad comforts you after you and his son breakup

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, age gap

word count: 5.3k

a/n: dilf leon you KNOW i love that. thank you so much for your request. i hope you like it! i used death island for the picture, but imagine leon in his late forties for this. as always, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi

Leon lets out a deep sigh as he yanks the keys out of the ignition and his car's engine fizzles out. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he looks down at his lap. He takes another deep breath and shakes his head before looking out the window at your apartment building. He’d been told you lived on the fourth floor.

He opens the door next, stepping out into the cold air. The sun was nowhere to be found today, the sky completely masked by a collection of gray clouds. He walks around to the back of the car and pops the trunk open to collect the box of memories he’d been tasked with returning to you.

He didn’t understand how he’d ended up with this job. Despite his numerous daydreams he wished he could forget, you weren’t ever his girlfriend. He hadn’t been the one you’d come over to visit. You didn’t fall asleep in his room or wear his t-shirts or kiss him goodbye when you left. He hadn’t been the one to cheat on you or make you cry for days on end either. No. That’d been his son.

So why was he the one going out of his way to bring you this stuff? That was what he couldn’t comprehend.

Well that’s not exactly true. He comprehended just fine. His son planned on throwing out your stuff that’d been left at his house, remnants of your eight months together. Leon didn’t want that. He’d told his son to pack it up and take it to you like a man should. He had been the one in the wrong after all. But no, his son argued up and down, coming up with every reason under the sun as to why it was better to just throw it away. So Leon just gave up. He knew if he commanded it, his son would just shove your shit in a box and drive down the street to throw it from the window of his moving car. The car Leon paid for.

Truth be told, he always had a soft spot for you. A chamber of his heart that was coated in guilt, surrounded by denial, but internally the sweetest part of him. The one piece of his soul that saw some light in the world that had gone dark for him years ago. So just for you, Leon drove the thirty minutes to your complex to deliver your belongings.

He picks up the cardboard box and tucks it under his arm. The trunk slams with a loud thump, and he’s thinking of what he’s even going to say to you when you open the door. Come to think of it, he didn’t even know if you were home. He had a pretty good idea of your schedule from the time you’d spend on the phone with his son or at his house, but he didn’t even check to be sure.

In the midst of mentally scolding himself, the bottom of the box bursts, and your items go tumbling out onto the pavement. He tries to catch them, but his fingers just miss. Another sigh seeps from his lungs as he crouches down to scoop them up. He picks up a pink hoodie that’d been crumpled up at the foot of his son’s bed, a stuffed bear he saw him pull from the crack between the mattress and the wall, and a bracelet that laid abandoned on the nightstand. He collects other little pieces of you scattered across the damp concrete before managing to situate them in his arms and resume walking to you.

He tosses the broken box into the nearby trash before entering the building and going down the hall and to the elevator. From what he saw, the place was alright. You didn’t live in luxury, but he was relieved he wouldn’t be left worrying about your safety after he left.

The elevator glides up to your floor in total silence with him being the only one in the small space. The little ding that marks his arrival releases a burst of anxiety within him. He felt so dumb. He was nervous like he was your and his son’s age. He pushes those feelings away and gets himself to be normal, to act his age. All he had to do was knock, shove this shit in your arms, and leave.

On the way down the hall to your unit, he realizes this plan means this will probably be the last time he ever sees you. Spare some chance encounter at the grocery store, this would be the final time he’d feel your sweet eyes on him or see that timid smile when he complimented you. That made him sad to think about. He never thought you’d be a permanent fixture in his life. You and his son were young, and being the type of guy his son was, he doubted your relationship was destined to succeed. In honesty, he was shocked it lasted as long as it did. But now, the ending was real. Knowing the time with you in his life was coming to a close felt how the sky outside looked.

Once he reaches the door with your number on it, his fist taps the wood twice. He hears soft shuffling inside, followed by the sound of locks being undone a couple moments later. You crack the door open, standing there in your pajamas. Both your top and bottoms were plain gray. You looked worn down. He could tell you’d been crying. Poor baby.

Your tired eyes flicker with curiosity when they glance up at his face.

“Mr. Kennedy?” you ask with confusion.

His mouth breaks into a charming grin upon hearing that. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Leon before it sticks?” he teases.

“Sorry…” you say. You didn’t smile at his teasing like normal. Given the circumstances, he supposed that made sense. “What are you doing here?”

“I have some of your stuff you left at my house. Can I come in?” he asks.

Now your eyes flash with a brief spout of anger, but you still open the door wider for him to enter.

“He couldn’t bring it to me?” you ask with clear bitterness in your tone.

He cringes at the sound. What was he supposed to say? In reality, he was on your side, but wouldn’t it be wrong to tell you that? He loved his son. He really did. Even with all the mistakes he made and the flaws he’d caused the boy, he loved him. He probably shouldn’t talk shit about him with his ex-girlfriend.

But at the same time, it was you. You weren’t just some random ex-girlfriend. He’d known you for the better half of a year. You were sweet, actually polite enough to say hello when you came over. You could hold a conversation. And sure, it didn’t hurt any that you were cute too. He felt something strong for you. He just struggled to articulate exactly what that something was. He was tempted to say you’d become part of the family. That’s probably what plenty of others in his situation would say. But the shameful thoughts that plagued his mind when he was alone late at night begged to differ with that assessment

Right now, it didn’t look like you were doing well. He sees the setup you have for yourself on the couch. A heap of blankets, pushed and twisted up around the spot you’d clearly been laying before he interrupted. The curtains were drawn, it was dark in here. You didn’t need him to run defense for the guy who cheated on you, relations aside.

“Guess not,” is how he finally answers your question to which he’s met with a roll of your eyes.

“Of course,” you mutter while walking over to meet him at the counter so you can inspect your items after he puts them down.

You rifle through the different things, scanning them haphazardly before returning your disinterested gaze to him. Your arms cross over your chest, and you shrug.

“Thanks, I guess.”

You’re clearly expecting him to leave now. And he knows that’s what he should do. Awkwardly shuffle out the door with a small wave goodbye. He can’t though. Something inside him won’t let him pull away just yet.

“How have you been?” he starts tentatively, “Haven’t seen you in a few weeks.”

“Fine… I guess,” you answer.

You guess. Again. A nervous tick. An indicator of deflection. You clearly didn’t want to delve into the inner workings of your broken heart with the father of the man responsible. He should back off. But he doesn’t.

“Are you sure? I know you two are broken up now or whatever you want to call it, but I still care about you, you know? You’re a sweet girl,” he starts, hating how this was coming out, “I just… I know how it is to feel alone. I don’t want that for you. If you need someone to talk to…”

“I should come to you? Is that it?” you say, a bit harsher than he would like.

“Well… yeah?” he responds.

You turn away, cutting him off from seeing your reactions. “That’s nice, Leon. But… I don’t think you’re the one I should talk to about any of this,” you say.

He takes a step closer, laying a cautious hand on your shoulder. “I think I’m the perfect one for you to talk to about this,” he says.

His reasoning is brief, but he doesn’t feel the need for more. Despite your resistance, the gears in your head are turning, deciding whether or not to take the offer. “There’s nothing to even talk about. It is what it is,” you reply. He can hear that characteristic softness returning to your voice.

“I don’t think that’s true. You don’t have to lie to me,” he says, getting even closer. He gently guides you back to the couch and clears some space for the two of you to sit. He directs your eyes back to him before he finishes speaking. “It’ll stay between us.”

You look up at him, sweet glossy eyes threatening to spill your emotions down your cheeks. He can see your apprehension, but in the end, you still decide to go for it.

“I just… I feel so dumb,” you start, biting your lip.

“You shouldn’t,” he tells you.

“But I do,” you say, voice becoming strained, “People told me he would do something like this, and I actually defended him. I’m so stupid, and everyone knows it now.”

While he wasn’t too pleased to learn of his son’s reputation, his sympathy for you overwhelms that. His hand rubs up and down your back as your head falls to your hands.

“Sweetheart…” he sighs, the term rolling out before he can stop himself, “It’s not your fault. It’s not a bad thing to be trusting.”

He sees your face tense as you lose the battle to hold your tears in. His heart aches seeing you look so defeated.

“Yes it is,” you cry, “I hate it.”

“Hey, c’mere,” he says and pulls you closer. He drapes his arm over your shoulder and holds you to his side. “Don’t talk like that about yourself, ok? Being cheated on doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you.”

He felt slightly awkward considering the cheater in question is his own flesh and blood. The feeling of your soft body against him overrides that thought though. You’re still weeping into his chest, so he continues.

“Look, baby,” he says. Another pet name. His mind screams for him to get a grip. “I love my son, but… I know him too. He can be insensitive, and that’s not what a girl like you needs.”

You look up at him, interested in his potential point. In your eyes, he feels he can see his reflection glaring back at him with disapproval.

“You’re such a precious thing. Someone to be handled with care,” he whispers, stroking your jaw, “I don’t want this to take that from you.”

More tears roll down your cheeks while you take in his words. He swipes a couple away with his thumb as he talks to you.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes. With my ex-wife, with my son, with my work. Christ, just with my life in general.” Why was he telling you this? “I look at you, and you remind me of who I was before those mistakes. I know stuff like this can make you bitter, and I just don’t want that to happen to you. You don’t need to blame yourself for what he did or try to keep how you feel inside. Once you get past this, you’re gonna move onto something better for you. I just don’t want you to forget that.”

He watches your lip quiver harder before the floodgates finally burst. Now that he’d given you permission, you don’t hold back. A sob tumbles from your lips. He immediately goes to pull you closer again, but this time you take it upon yourself. His eyes widen as you scoot into his lap.

It’s as if he acts on instinct though. As soon as you have your face buried against his throat, his arms loop around you in return. One hand rubs the expanse between your shoulder blades while the other simply supports the small of your back.

“Sweet baby…” he whispers.

“He told me he loved me,” you weep. He can feel your warm tears dripping down his skin now.

“I’m sure he did, honey,” he says and rocks back and forth with you a bit.

Now you really unload. You cry against him about basically every wrongdoing his son had committed in your time together. He compared you to other girls, told you that you were too needy, forgot your birthday. And Leon listens to it all, not playing devil’s advocate even once.

Guilt burns hot in his chest though. Nevertheless, he tries to convince himself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He was just helping a poor, hurting girl in need. But that excuse crumbles when he simply thinks about what his son would say to the sight of his ex-girlfriend curled up on his father’s lap, clinging to him like he was her new man.

His mind continued trying to justify this anyways, putting forth the idea that this was out of his control. He was powerless when it came to situations like this. The life he led so far had wired a savior complex into his brain. He couldn’t resist you, another princess he could restore to her pedestal.

That was definitely part of why he didn’t put you back on the couch and slowly begin to make an exit. The other part was less honorable. Despite his mind’s ideas of noble motivations, deep down he knew part of this was selfishness. Being human, he wasn’t gonna complain about a pretty young girl warming his lap. And being himself, he certainly wasn’t going to complain because that girl happened to be you. The guilt he felt faded instantly with one look at your doe face or one word from your tender voice.

“None of that is your fault,” he comforts you once you finish your list and breaks away from his thoughts, “You didn’t deserve any of it.”

“I know…” you whimper before another sob comes from you, “I hate him so much. But it’s even worse cause I still miss him.”

That shoots a sharp pang of jealousy through his heart to which he mentally slaps himself. God, you made him feel pathetic, but in a way he didn’t want to admit, that was part of the appeal. He holds you tighter and nuzzles the top of your head, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

“That’s ok. It’s only natural,” he coos and continues soothing you.

“Why do I miss him? How do I make it stop?” you cry, your voice cracking.

Fuck. You really did remind him of himself which only made this more twisted. He knew what you were feeling so well. That longing ache that festers inside until you feel like clawing your skin off and prying your ribs apart to purge yourself of the infection. He sighs and shifts you on his thigh, pulling you closer to him.

“You can’t make it go away. You know that. It’s a time-heals-all-wounds situation, sweetheart. Just gotta wait it out, but it’ll get better,” he says.

Then he must have truly gone over the edge because he leans in and presses a faint kiss to your hairline. Luckily for him, you don’t protest. Instead, it draws more tears from you. Your arms lock around him and pull the rest of your body closer

“I just feel empty, and I don’t know why. He wasn’t that great… no offense,” you sniffle.

“None taken,” he says softly, a small smile rising on his lips. He keeps rubbing your back, resting his head on top of yours. “Most breakups hurt, even when you’ve run the course of the relationship. It’s not fun losing someone.”

It wouldn’t be fun losing you. That was for fucking sure. He was only making it worse for himself by doing all this. At this point, he wasn’t sure how he’d manage to tear himself away once you stopped crying.

“I guess,” you whimper, lip puffing out into a sweet pout he’d only ever seen as a joke before.

“You’re such a sensitive girl, honey. So delicate,” he murmurs against your hair. He knows he should stop. He’s toeing the borderline, but it’s all he can do to keep himself from hurdling over it at full force.

“I’m overdramatic,” you correct.

He scoffs, dismissing your claim. “Did someone tell you that? Because they don’t know what they’re talking about. You’re precious,” he whispers with another kiss to your head.

That word seems to strike something in you. Your crying that had been dwindling seems to soften down to an occasional ragged breath. You look up at him with your watery eyes. He continues to push away remaining tears on your cheeks before running his knuckles down your jaw.

As he looks into your eyes, the temptation becomes irresistible. He needs you.

“Sweet thing like you… you need someone who can understand you, protect those feelings of yours, not make you feel bad about ‘em,” he says, his thumb dragging over your chin.

“You think so?” you ask.

“Oh yeah. There’s nothing wrong with wearing your heart on your sleeve,” he says teasingly, “All it means is that you care. Plus, this may be just me, but I think it’s pretty cute.”

Your teary eyes widen just the slightest amount, and your hips squirm a bit on his lap. You look down at your fingers fidgeting with one another.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly.

“I do. You’re so pretty when you cry, baby,” he mutters and lifts your chin to get you to look at him again, “You have puppy eyes, just begging for some love.”

A shy smile starts spreading on your face. Your eyes cast down, and he knows he’s got you hooked. Now he just has to reel you in.

“Yeah, you know it’s true,” he whispers and leans in to kiss your cheeks, “Bet you have a lot of fun using ‘em on people.”

“No,” you say timidly, eyes glancing back up at him.

“Oh, of course not. A little angel like you would never take advantage,” he teases. He kisses across your cheek bone to your temple, and then moves his lips down to where your jaw meets your neck. He can hear your breath hitching. His hands pull you closer to his body, feeling your warmth up against him. One slides to your side, rubbing up and down slowly.

“That’s why you need to be taken care of,” he breathes against your skin, “Let me take care of you, baby.”

You nod with no hesitation on your part. He can tell from the breath you let out that you're giving into some temptations of your own. Your head leans in and he ducks down to connect your lips, nearly groaning as he feels the plush flesh press against him. The kisses start off tender, just little pecks as you explore the feeling of each other. But they soon grow in passion. Your mouths open against each other. Your tongues meet, and spit coats one another's lips. You’re both breathing heavier.

He pulls back to look at you, those eyes he had been going on about now clouded with lust. Moving in for a few more, he cups your face. “You like that?” he murmurs.

“Mhm,” you hum, reciprocating the affection.

He chuckles as you move in even closer, the swell of your breasts pushing up against his chest. His hands squeeze your waist and turn you around so your back is to his front, your head tilted on his shoulder.

“Pretty baby, so eager for me,” he coos as his hands smooth up your stomach to your chest. He fondles your tits through your top, feeling their entirety since you weren’t wearing a bra.

The softest noise of satisfaction leaves you, and you nip at his lips. He deepens the kiss in response, groping you a bit harder. Your hands travel South to his belt, attempting to undo behind your back, but his hand drops and grabs your wrists.

“Not yet,” he corrects with a kiss to your temple, “There’s no rush. I want to take my time with you. Warm you up like you deserve.”

His mouth envelopes yours again while his hand releases your wrists and returns to your breast. He can feel your nipples perking up in anticipation. His cock starts to do the same beneath you. As you feel it, you roll your ass back against him, providing some friction. He smiles against your lips, the prior reservations he had about this leaving his mind one by one.

Maneuvering his palms between your thighs, his fingers coast up and down the sensitive skin. His mouth trails down to your neck to kiss you there, sucking soft love bites onto your throat. You’re single now. It’s not like you’d have to hide them.

He parts your legs a bit more before cupping them underneath and pulling you down so that you’re at an angle where he can remove the fluffy pajama pants that kept him from his target. You watch the soft fabric fall away and crumple up on the floor. You’re a little jittery as he exposes your skin now. This is real, no longer a far-fetched fantasy.

His hand is on your pussy in seconds, stroking you through the thin cotton that covers it. The kisses to your throat don’t stop, and his free hand keeps you in place on his lap.

“Those college boys you’ve been running around with are too busy thinking with their dicks. They don’t know what to do with a prize like you,” he murmurs and drags his nose up the curve of your face.

He chooses to forget the fact that the boy you had been running around with was his son. That didn’t need to matter right now. All that mattered was the whimper that fell from you, the way your hair felt against the crook of his neck. His fingers play with you a little more before sliding into your panties.

“Aw, you’re already getting wet, hm?” he purrs, “Precious girl. Probably so pent up. Never been properly fucked the way you shoulda been.”

You nod and turn your head to look into his eyes. He takes the chance to kiss you again, working his mouth with yours while his fingers coasted through your folds.

“Need you to make it better,” you mumble against his lips.

You feel his smirk and how he kisses with increased fervor. The pads of his fingers swirl around your clit, eliciting a tiny gasp from you.

“Not a problem, baby. You’re not leaving my lap till you can’t remember why you were crying in the first place,” he whispers.

You sigh with content and resume languidly making out. His fingertips are rough on the smooth skin of your center, dragging over your sweet spots with the best friction you’d ever felt. Your body arches into his touch. You actually want more. A refreshing feeling for you.

He continues focusing on your sensitive bundle of nerves, flicking over it, pressing small circles into it, swiping down across it. Occasionally, he’d massage lower, teasing your entrance and feeling the arousal pooling from his actions.

“You like how I’m playing with you? Feel good having that clit touched? It’s so sensitive, just like the rest of you,” he breathes.

You nod again, a desperate whine unraveling out of you. He chuckles and speeds up his fingers.

“I knew you would. You’re beyond the little boys who thrust a few times and leave you wanting for more. Think it’s pretty obvious you need a real man,” he says.

He didn’t even know where half this stuff was coming from, but he wasn’t gonna launch an investigation into it. It worked for you, so it was working for him.

Your hips buck as he maintains a steady pace and even amount of pressure. He rubbed you just the way you liked, as if he knew your body on an instinctual level.

“You’re gonna cum just from my fingers. You can do it. Have you gushing already before I slip my cock in you,” he murmurs against your skin.

His fingers have started making wet noises as they slide up and down on your cunt. You mewl and tense up, relishing the pleasure he brought you. You whimper out his name quietly, over and over. Leon. Specifically him.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Who’s the one making you feel so good? Who’s the one you’ve needed all along?”

You gasp it again for him. Leon.

“Good girl,” he growls.

He moves his fingers with more precision and dedication, taking you right to the blissful edge and letting you crash over it. Watching how your body writhes on his lap, he holds you through it. He makes sure to keep you up right.

You feel lightning strike within you, the storm of euphoria swirling in the pit of your stomach. You let go all over his fingers, and thoroughly coat his hand with your release. He goes in for more, sliding his fingers down as if they’re going to dip inside you, but you whine in protest.

“Leon… don’t wanna wait anymore,” you whimper.

He chuckles at your impatience and shakes his head.

“You talk about it like you’ve been waiting forever when it’s only been a couple minutes,” he teases.

“Feels like forever,” you pout.

He kisses your frown and pulls your underwear off completely. He then turns you around on his lap to face him.

“You ready for the real thing then?” he breathes, smirking at your quick confirmation.

He boosts his hips off the couch and shoves his pants down enough so that his cock can spring free. It bobs up in anticipation. His hand grasps it, sliding it against your entrance.

After a few teasing swipes, he sinks you down on it, savoring every small change in your expression. Your eyes flutter, your mouth lolls open slightly, your brows furrow.

“Oh, I can tell that’s what you’ve been needing,” he whispers, guiding your hips into a rhythm.

You bounce up and down on him, breathy moans escaping you with each rise and fall.

“Mhm, wanted it for so long,” you whine.

His eyebrow raises at that. “Yeah?” he grunts, sharply inhaling as you squeeze around him, “How long? How bad did you want it?”

“So bad. Wanted it for months,” you confess as your head falls back, “Wanted to be yours instead.”

He knows he’s going to hell for the rush of satisfaction that floods his veins. He doesn’t falter though, just pulls you closer and starts thrusting up into you.

“Oh, did you? Dirty secret, baby, but I can’t say I didn’t feel the same way,” he moans before reconnecting his mouth with yours, “Sweet baby like you, wanted you to be all mine.”

A quick moan leaves you, and you keep riding. Your hips roll up and down, working him as deep into you as he can go. Your arousal drips down his heavy balls, making a mess where the two of you connect.

“Dreamed about you sometimes,” you gasp, letting it all out.

His eyes droop with more desire. They shouldn’t, but your revelations only spurred him on. He thrusts up harder and digs his fingers into the flesh of your hips.

“Yeah? Bet you felt so guilty waking up soaked between your legs for someone you couldn’t have,” he says, vision trained on you, “I felt the same way. Hard as a rock for you and no relief.”

“Now there is,” you whimper as you lean down and nuzzle your face against his.

With hot breaths in each other's face, you both feel the cords of release being pulled taut. You bite your lip, and he cages you in against his body, keeping you flush against him.

“Even with that dirty little secret, you’re still such a good girl. Need you to be my good girl,” he mumbles in your ear before moaning, hips tensing as he feels the sweeping sense of euphoria.

You nod dumbly as your own high creeps up on you. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum,” you whine before burying your face into his shoulder. Your hands clutch at his biceps, digging little crescents into the muscle.

He fucks you through it, making you see stars and keeping them suspended in your sights. You cling to him and clamp around him. His thrusts get sloppy, but he won’t stop until you’re coming down. That’s when he finally pulls out and gives himself a few strokes to completion, finishing on your ass. He figured you were on the pill, but he wasn’t going to make a riskier chance an even bigger risk.

You feel the warm liquid dripping down the curve of your ass. You’re too fucked out to be concerned with clean up right now though. He smiles down at you and gives you some kisses as a way to cool you off.

Reaching over to the end table, he grabs a few tissues and swipes away the small mess on your backside. After some more soothing affection, the two of you briefly readjust your clothing and get comfy with each other again. He figured this probably wasn’t the best thing he could be doing in this situation. He just fucked his son’s ex and now he was going to cuddle her too? But he does it anyway because it was what you needed, and that was his mind’s priority at the moment.

He thinks about leaving though, reverting to the original plan. He could let you doze off and just slip away. But he doesn’t. You’re too sweet, and you’re hurting. He didn’t want to pile on, but the idea that this shouldn’t develop into more than a passionate fuck still lingers in his mind..

That is until he hears your voice.

“Are you gonna leave?” you ask softly.

He looks down, heart aching at the sight of you.

“Not yet,” he answers.

“Ok good,” you say and sink into him again, “I might need you again later. In case I get sad again.”

He rolls his eyes at your attempt to play innocent. “Guess I’m stuck here then. Can’t have you crying all alone,” he says.

“Mhm,” you hum, leaning up to give him a kiss. One of the sweetest kisses he’d ever had. And just like that, you’re luring him back in.

“You know… maybe I should be proactive, make sure you don’t get the chance to be sad again today…” he murmurs, shifting to lay down on the couch and give you some kisses of his own. “Think you need some more distracting.”

He was done for.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil x you #smut

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norrizzandpia · 9 months ago

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You Don’t Even Know What She Looks Like? (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Spencer’s girlfriend has always been mentioned. Never has the BAU team been shown a photo or given a small rundown of what she looks like. So, when Spencer announces that she’ll be visiting the office to bring him food on a late night, well, you can guess the chaos that ensues.

Warnings: none, very fluffy

Note: aww my first Spencer Reid fic! I hope you all like it <3

The BAU had only ever heard about Y/n. Never did Spencer show pictures of her or give descriptions on her appearance because he wanted to keep the majority of her to himself for as long as he could. Even though she had told him numerous times that showing them pictures and giving them more than the occasional chaotic story was completely fine by her, he never could bring himself to. That was until he started being away a lot more because of a continuous string of cases, making it harder for him to see her outside of the office. The first time she asked to bring him food when he was up late at the office doing paperwork, he declined, rambling about how he didn’t want to have to deal with all the screaming that would go on from the introduction of his girlfriend.

However, the second time she asked, he had had a hard case, one filled with innocent children and one that hurt him the most. As he sat in the chair of his desk, eyes staring at the wall as everyone around him scribbled down words onto paper, he knew he needed to see her. He would’ve left right then and there, but the stack of folders sitting to his left made him completely reject the efficiency of that idea. So, when her name popped up on his phone with a small plea to bring him food, knowing he hadn’t eaten as much as he should with the case, Spencer couldn’t say no.

”Guys,” He said, standing from his chair and turning so he could face the rest of the team.

Everyone’s eyes averted to him. Morgan leaning back in his chair, “What’s up, pretty boy?”

He twiddled his thumbs, “Don’t freak out over what I’m about to tell you, okay?”

At this, Emily and JJ perked up. Penelope, the woman passing by in the hall and overhearing his suspicious sentence, slid into the bullpen.

With everyone’s slow nodding, Spencer broke the news, “My girlfriend is coming in to bring me food.”

”WHAT?” Penelope shouted, completely disregarding his wish for them to be calm. She dropped the folder in her hands, not concerned that classified information lay beneath, and sprinted over to the tall man she knew as her friend.

She shook him, her hands on his shoulders, “SPENCER, ARE YOU MEANING TO TELL ME I’M ABOUT TO MEET YOUR GIRLFRIEND?!”

He giggled, “Yes,”

Morgan gave a glance to Rossi, who was standing against the railing and smirking, before standing from his own chair and making his way over to Penelope, prying her off Spencer, “Okay, babygirl, Spencer asked us to be calm about this.”

She turned to him, eyes widened, “Calm? No way will I be calm about this.”

”I’m with her on this one. Sorry.” Emily admitted, the woman standing next to JJ as the two joined the group.

Spencer rolled his eyes, “Seriously, guys. Don’t scare her away.”

Rossi cocked his head, “Scare her away? If you haven’t already after six months, I’m sure we won’t.”

Spencer frowned just as Penelope yelped, “Is that her?!”

Spencer turned his head to the door of the bullpen, seeing a blonde woman emerge from behind it. He shook his head with a laugh, “Penelope, no. That’s not her. You don’t even know what she looks like.”

Penelope stuck her tongue out at him just as JJ hollered, “That her?”

A random stranger passing by, Spencer shook his head once more.

Morgan joined in, “What about her?”

A man. Morgan pointed to a man. Spencer gave him a glance as Morgan giggled, never getting bored over a good teasing.

Emily tried to guess as well, “Hey! What about her?”

”No! Guys, I will tell you when she’s here.” Spencer said with a slight annoyance. His girlfriend had just texted him she would go to get his food. There was no way she was here yet.

The group got tired after a moment of pointing out random women and all fell back into their paperwork. After about ten minutes, Spencer stood from his desk.

Everyone in the BAU froze.

When he saw their stares, he laughed, “I’m just going to the bathroom. She’s not here yet, but if you stare at her like that when she comes, I swear to God she will run the other way.”

”Hey!” Emily exclaimed, throwing a crumpled up piece of paper at him as he pushed open the door and turned down the hallway.

There was silence for about three minutes seeing as Spencer wasn’t there, watching his mannerisms and determining if Y/n was close or not out the window with him gone.

A creek sounded throughout the floor as the door was pushed open. Y/n stood, with a white plastic bag in her hand, looking out at the people working at their desks. They completely missed the entrance. With no eyes on her, she moved to Spencer’s desk and placed the bag on top. Her eyes glazed over everyone before she cleared her throat, “Um, does anyone know where Spencer is?”

Morgan’s head snapped up as JJ and Emily stopped writing. Rossi’s door swung open and he stepped out forcefully, not graceful in the slightest. As if she was summoned, Penelope flew through the door of the BAU, almost tripping on her heel as she returned from her hibernation in her office.

With all eyes now on her, Y/n blushed slightly. Spencer had mentioned that everyone would be a bit overbearing, but she didn’t know even the smallest thing like their stares would be intimidating.

Penelope moved toward her first, looking at her as if she was an alien, “Are you Y/n?”

Y/n nodded and the entire group erupted into loud overlaps of coos and compliments. Spencer’s girlfriend stood in the midst of them all, being pulled into Penelope’s arms as the colorful woman hugged her tightly. JJ and Emily told her they loved the way she had styled her hair, asking how she had done it, and Morgan interrogated her on how Spencer had managed to “smooth talk” her. Rossi just nodded his head at her and extended his hand, murmuring his name and how nice it was to meet her.

Spencer was walking back from the bathroom, down the hall, when he heard the excited voices. He knew then and there what the situation was, and his feet began to pick up. He was practically running toward the BAU glass door and when he reached it, he yanked it open.

Everyone turned to him, his girlfriend’s face peeking out from behind them all and he immediately softened. The twinkle in her eye, the blush on her face, he could tell she appreciated finally being given the opportunity to meet his chosen family. Spencer wondered why he even waited to introduce her in the first place.

The man made long strides across the office, muscling through the small number of bodies before getting an arm’s length away from Y/n, pulling her into him by the waist.

He turned to everyone, smiling widely as his hand smoothed over her back lovingly, “This is Y/n, my girlfriend. Now, you can pick her out of a crowd.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fandom #Spencer Reid fanfic #Spencer Reid x reader fluff #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!readr #penelope garcia #derek morgan #david rossi #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau

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guiltyasdave · 1 month ago

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every breath you take

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: Dave is investigating a case, but ends up being much more interested in the target's girlfriend.

word count: 1.7k

tags/warnings: dark content!!! stalker!dave, non-consensual voyerism, more things that i don't want to spoil, but if you don't like dark stuff you won't like this okay?, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, divorced dave, allusions to smut, angst

a/n: ...i was in the mood to try my hand at a dark dave, so i did :) written for @punkshort's au challenge, where i got detective!dave, which i took and ran with lmao

so much love to @sizzlingcloudmentality who has received a thousand voice notes over this, kept me from killing everyone, and gave me the idea for the final twist <3

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers by @saradika-graphics 🤍

It had started the first time Dave heard your voice, ringing through his headphones as he was sitting at his desk, taking notes on last nights’ recordings. He had just taken on the case, a promise of quiet observational work, gathering evidence. The only requirement to stay invisible. Easy enough.

Your name had popped up in the case file. Romantic partner. Female. Involvement unclear. A note in the back of his head, filed away. That was before he knew you.

Before he sat at his desk, headphones on, not breathing for what felt like hours. Before he unfroze, straightening his back, digging through the file for a photograph of you. Staring at the blurry pixels, at the sweet smile directed at your boyfriend.

His line of work had long lost the excitement it gave him when he first started, the buzz that he had once felt when after months of investigation, a case was solved. But this. This was new, this was fun.

He found himself listening so much more intently when you were present, waiting for your name being mentioned when you weren’t.

There hasn’t been much fun in his life since the divorce. Not seeing the girls nearly as much as he would like to. Coming home to an empty house in the evening, no traces left of the family life that he always prided himself with. One could say that he’s lonely, he guesses.

It’s late in the evening, his car parked in front of the unassuming suburban house, perfect with a white picket fence, the porch surrounded by carefully maintained flowers. Your work, as he knows by now. It’s so easy, imagining you in his house, so similar to the one you’re living in now.

He should be paying close attention to your boyfriend, should monitor his every step, should take notes, photos if necessary. Instead, his eyes are glued to you.

Watching you move from the living room to the kitchen, picturing you in the same rooms in his house instead. Reaching up to a cupboard, crouching down in front of the oven, moving around the counters. He grits his teeth when your boyfriend comes up behind you, crowds you in, his hands all over your body. Lips against your neck. You leaning into the touch, a soft smile on your lips. That should be him.

Maybe, if he tries hard enough, later tonight he’ll look at his own kitchen counter and see you there. Maybe he’ll be able to pretend, even for a moment, that your sweet, sweet smile is directed at him. That your voice rings out with the sound of his name instead of the douchebag that calls himself your boyfriend.

You deserve so much better. Someone to take care of you, to keep you safe. To love you the way you should be loved. You deserve someone like him and he doesn’t understand how you don’t see that. How you don’t look out the window, spot him across the street, and just know. The way he did.

Of course things didn’t work out with Carol. How could they, when you were waiting for him?

But you don’t look out the window. You turn around, a laugh on your lips. Silent, from his vantage point outside of your house, your life. But he knows the sound, knows how beautiful it sounds, how it always brings a smile to his own face. He has listened to it over and over, after all. Maybe, one day he’ll be able to experience both at once, to see your face scrunch up, crinkles forming around your eyes and your nose, while his ears pick up on the pearly sound that he’s gotten addicted to. It’s almost embarrassing, how much longer it takes him to listen to tapes when you’re on them. How often he rewinds, how meticulously he commits every single sound that you let out to memory.

It isn’t lost on him that you love your boyfriend. He’s not delusional, after all. You just don’t know how much better you could have it. It’s not your fault, of course. He understands, he wants to help you, wants to make you see.

You don’t know who the man you live with really is, he doesn’t think. You don’t know about the blood-stained money that bought the house you live in, don’t question when he comes home late at night, when he leaves the room to make a call.

Dave would never treat you like this. He’d be so, so good to you. Because he knows you, better than that guy ever will, and he hasn’t even met you. Yet.

It almost seems too easy. He has dirt, more than enough of it, to send your boyfriend to jail for a long, long time. He could finish up the case. But he likes to keep watching. At least until he knows what to do with you.

It’s late one evening, the golden light from your living room spilling out across the lawn. Dave’s back is stiff from folding his body into the car seat all day, but it’s a price he’s willing to pay. Just a glimpse of you would be enough. Right now, all he can see is the back of your boyfriend’s head behind an armchair.

As if his thoughts had summoned you, you glide into the room, just as gorgeous as always. Wearing nothing but lacy black underwear, a coy smile on your face, directed at the man that Dave has come to hate. The man who doesn’t deserve your smile, doesn’t deserve to lay eyes on you, let alone touch you. The hands roaming over your skin, pulling you closer until it’s body against body— they should be Dave’s.

The shutter clicks quietly. No one but him will see these photos, they won’t be submitted to the case file. But he already knows that he’ll be looking at them over and over, pouring over them in the darkness of his home, until every inch, every crevice of your body is seared into his memories.

You giggle, muted by the distance and the windows separating him from you, but he still hears the sound in his ear as if he was standing right next to you. He knows you. Fingers intertwined, you pull your boyfriend with you, up the stairs and out of view. It stings. He’d be lying to say that it didn’t. But not much longer now. He just needs a plan.

He has already cleared any evidence that even hints at you possessing any knowledge of the criminal activities surrounding the man that you’re with right now. You won’t go down with him, you’re safe. Of course you are. Dave will always protect what’s his. You’ll see.

Later, when all the lights in your house are turned off and he has returned to his own home, his thoughts race with the image of you. All that skin on display, the smiles and giggles, the teasing. Maybe you do know. Maybe it’s a game that you’re both playing, maybe you wanted him to see.

He lets the hot spray of the shower rain down his back, the heat slowly easing the hardened muscles in his back. Still, all he sees is you. He doesn’t even need to close his eyes. In his mind, you’re right there with him. It’s his body that you’re pressed against, his fingers digging into your flesh. He almost tastes your soft breaths, feels all the mewling sounds that he could pull from you against his lips. He could give you everything you want, could make you feel better than anyone else ever has. You’re meant for him.

He’d turn you around, press you against the hard wall, one hand on your shoulder, pulling you back against his body as he fills you up. You’d be so tight, so warm and wet around him. He’d drive into you, again and again, over and over, until the only thing you know is his name. Until he’s everything you’ll ever need.

It happens one week later. You were supposed to be asleep. They were going to intercept your boyfriend before he could enter the house. Dave doesn’t know what went wrong, why the team fucked up like this.

He runs inside when he hears you scream, standing in the kitchen. Your eyes wide, shining with the image of your boyfriend’s blood slowly spreading across the white tiles. With a wild expression on your face, you make a grab for the knife block.

It all goes by incredibly fast. In the blink of an eye, Dave’s world comes crashing down around him. One of the men lunges at you, attempting to tackle you to the ground. Your head connects with the kitchen counter in a sickening crunch. A second later, your limp body hits the ground.

It’s agony, waiting for you to wake up. He lets people think that he’s just invested in his case, that he feels guilty about how things went down. No one interferes when he handles the hospital proceedings, knowing better than to question him. Or when he doesn’t let anyone else near you. Or when he barely leaves your side, staring at your unconscious face, your hand weak in his.

He listens attentively to the doctors, his brows knitted deeply, his lips pursed in worry. No part of it is fake. If his eyes widen at the words memory loss, the only plausible reason is his deep concern for you.

When your eyelids flutter open, when your gaze finds him for the very first time, his heart is racing in his chest. He squeezes your hand, resists the urge to smooth out the crease on your forehead.

“Thank god you’re awake,” he breathes, not able to stop a smile from growing on his face.

You exhale sharply, pure confusion painting your features. So helpless without him.

“W— who are you?”

“I’m Dave, baby. Your fiancé, remember?”

A slow shake of your head, your brows pulling together. Quietly echoing his name back to him, more like a question.

Until the only thing you know is his name. Until he’s everything you’ll ever need.

thank you for reading, aaaahhhhh! i have never written anything really dark before and i'm a little nervous tbh, so please let me know if you liked this <3

#janas fics #dave york x reader #dave york #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #dave york fanfiction #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader

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scarlethexelove · 2 months ago

Text

It's Always The Drummer

Pairing: Drummer!Kate Bishop x Fan!Reader

Word Count: 2799

Warnings: Smut, Kate is a charming, Drumsticks being used for penetration, Service Top! Kate, Kate definitely cums just from getting R off, A bit of Beefy Kate.

Pt 2

A/n: As the last few fics I have to thank @wandamaximoffsbadgirl for helping with this. We have been doing this really fun back and forth were we right the fic together. It's super fun and can be surprising when one writes a something you weren't expecting. As for the fic I just had the idea pop into my head randomly while playing some Fortnite. Please enjoy 😁

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

You can't believe that your all-time favorite band is coming to town. You stayed up all night just to get tickets. Sadly, you weren't able to get VIP tickets due to how expensive they are, but you knew if you got here early enough, you could maybe get front row. Your friends stand around you as you all talk about the band. Most of them are obsessed with either the lead singer Natasha, the guitarist Wanda, or bassist Yelena. You, on the other hand, have a big crush on the drummer Kate.

Kate was perfect on drums, and gods, the smirk on her face when she was performing, made you feel something. You had picked out an amazing outfit. You knew Kate's favorite color was purple, so you went with purple and black. Looking yourself over with all your friends beside you. You'd get to see her up close, you just knew it!

You hear some laughter that sounds familiar from behind you. You turn around and spot her. There she is, Kate Bishop in the flesh. Laughing with Wanda, Nat, and Yelena. You can't help as you start to smack the arm of your friend next to you without even taking your eyes off the women. You knew they'd be doing all the VIP stuff soon, but your friend murmurs. “oww Y/n/n.” As they walk by everyone is freaking out when Natasha calls out. “Each of us will be picking one person to be upgraded to VIP!” And of course everyone is freaking out and hoping to be picked.

You internally start to panic. There is no way you'll get picked. The women walk down the line, but as you watch Kate, her eyes seem to keep flicking towards you. You're pretty sure you're just seeing things, but it gives you hope. Of course, you would take any of them picking you, but if Kate did, you might just die.

The girls go and pick theirs. Natasha first, then Wanda, and then Yelena. Kate was last. None of your friends had been picked, but then it happened. Kate holds out her hand at you. “Care to join me?” You could die happy right now as you place your hand in yours. Forgetting all about your friends. She pulls you along, and as you round the corner around the building, she wraps her arm around your waist and pulls you into her side. You can't help the audible gasp that escapes you, and you don't miss the smirk on her face. Your heart races with excitement and fear. You can't believe this is happening.

Kate leans in and whispers in your ear. “You're very beautiful, you know.” A blush covers your cheeks. “N-Not as beautiful as you-you are.” You stutter. She lets out a melodic laugh at your stuttering. “No need to be nervous.” Her grip tightens on you. “We're gonna have some fun, okay beautiful?” You nod, which has Kate raising a brow at you. She holds the door open for you to let you into the band's entrance. “I need words princess.” You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. “Yes, um yeah of course.” You curse yourself for how stupid you sound. “My name’s Kate but I'm assuming you already know that.” Her confidence has your knees weak. “Y/n.” You tell her which causes her to smile. “Y/n I like the sound of that. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”

Kate's words have you blushing as she brings you to a room with her name on it. The opening to reveal what was a place for Kate to get ready, but there was something that was off and caught your eye. A bed. “U-um what's that for? Don't you guys just um like get ready in here?” Kate chuckles. “I like to take naps before the shows... along with some other activities.” She throws you a wink.

This is amazing, and you hate to admit the fact you would let Kate do anything, but something nags at the back of your mind. “Do you do this a lot?” She looks at you. “Do what?” She asks and you can't tell if she's serious or not. “Bring...um bring girls here?” You can't look at her, but you hear a chuckle. “We each pick someone out, but usually I have no interest in anyone, but since the others do it. I do too, but…” She picks your chin up gently. “You caught my eye tonight. I know you saw me looking pretty girl.”

You're as red as a tomato and she can tell how nervous you are. “Princess we don't have to do anything you don't want to. I will bring girls back because of the others but I don't actually do anything with them. But you seem different... special.” Kate gives you a genuine smile. “I...um…” You feel your head spin and you feel like you're on fire. “I really um.” She leans over and cups your cheeks, whispering in your ear. “Just a yes or no is fine princess. You don't have to explain yourself.” She tells you. “Yes.” You breathe out.

Kate smiles, pulling you closer by your hips. She leans in, pressing her lips to yours. You melt into her as you kiss her back. Her fingers dig into your hips. “So beautiful.” She mumbles against your lips. A whine escapes your lips. This is all you've ever wanted since you found out about this band and saw Kate. You never thought you'd be here, and you find yourself chasing her lips. For a moment you wonder if she's lying and she does this all the time, but you don't care. You'll show her the best time she's ever had.

Kate picks you up easily, and you wrap your legs around her waist. She carries you to the bed, laying you down as she hovers over you. “You're so beautiful under me. I could get used to this.” You nod. “Me too.” You pull her down and kiss her again. The kisses get heated as she rolls her hips against you, and you moan out. “Fuck...Kate…” You desperately try to pull her closer. “Mmm need you.” She starts stripping both of you down and you feel like it couldn't be fast enough. You pull at her shirt. “Please.” You whine wanting her to go faster. “Patience princess.” You whine louder. She grips your hips tighter. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?” She asks and you let out another whine. “Words princess.” She grips your face, your eyes dilating.

“I'll be good, please I need this. Need you Kate please.” Your words come out fast. “Good girl.” A blush rises to your cheeks at her words. She leans up and pulls her shirt off. You can't help but drool at the site. She obviously had super toned arms from being a drummer, but what you hadn't expected was how perfect her abs were. Before you even realize it, you've reached out and lightly touched them.

“Like what you see beautiful?” Kate leans down and kisses you, barely giving you time to squeak out a yes. Her tongue pushes past your lips, moving together and letting her take the lead. Her tongue explores your mouth, which only causes you to moan. She gladly swallows your sounds.

When Kate pulls away, you can't help but chase after her lips as a soft whine escapes you. She is already loving the sounds coming out of you and can't wait to see what else she can pull out.

Kate gets you undressed, running her hands over your body, admiring every bit of you. She gets up for a moment to finish undressing herself. You hadn't even noticed until now as she pulls them out. Her famous light up drumsticks were tucked into her back pocket.

You've seen them all over social media over the years, but your focus is always divided between them and the fingers that twirl them around. “Oh wow…” it comes out breathy, and Kate smirks when she notices. “Oh, do you like my drum sticks? I had them custom-made.” She holds them put towards you. “Y-yeah, I always see them in videos.” You mumble slightly embarrassed. She chuckles as an idea pops in her head. “Princess, do you trust me?” You nod faster than you should. You seriously only met the girl, but everything seems so right.

Kate smirks, taking back the sticks and having you lay back. “Just tell me if it hurts and I'll stop, okay?”She just wants to make sure you are comfortable and that she doesn’t hurt you. “Mhmm yes.” She takes one of the sticks and slowly pushes it inside of you. A moan coming out as you tip your head back at the feeling. It's a new sensation compared to what you've taken before. It's not thick but it's so long. You can hear Kate panting slightly above you as she watches her stick disappear inside of you. She didn't expect to find it so hot, but watching how your greedy cunt just sucks it in has her blinded with pleasure.

“Fuck princess you're so hot. Look at you taking me so nicely like that. Do you think you can take both?” Kate asks, looking at you with darkened eyes. “I-I can try...mmm please? W-wanna try Kate.” She pulls the stick all the way out which causes a whine to escape you. Your walls clench around nothing as you feel empty now.

Kate presses the tips of both sticks at your entrance before letting them slowly sink in. “F-fuck!” You gasp at the stretch. “That's a good girl…” Kate bites her lip and the way she's moving, the sounds she's making you'd swear she was getting off as much as you were from this. The sticks hit the deepest part of you, as you arch up into them. “Fuck...f-feels so good Kate...mmm.” She picks up the pace as she plunges the sticks over and over again into your greedy hole. One of your hands reaching out and reaching around her biceps. You can feel it flex with every thrust.

“K-Kate...Katie cumming...I'm gonna..ah.” Kate looks up at you, face all flushed. “Me too princess go on. Cum all over my drum sticks.” Her voice is so deep and husky as you feel the coil tighten inside of you. You feel her tremble, and her muscles flex as she groans out.

Your nails dig into her biceps as your back arches off the bed. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as the tips of the drumsticks hit that spot deep inside you. You fall over the edge, coating her sticks and fingers in your juices. You hear her moan loudly as you're pretty sure she just came from getting you off.

Kate slows down before coming to a stop. Pulling them out and admiring them covered in your slick. As you come back down from the high you catch her staring at them making you blush. She smirks as she notices you staring at her. You're both still slightly panting. “Fuck princess you're so perfect under me.” The blush deepens as you whimper. “W-well, you're perfect above me.” She smirks and leans down to give you another kiss when there's a knock at the door, making you jump. “Busy!” Kate yells to whoever knocked on the door. “Kate, we have to meet VIPs in 5.” You heard Yelena call through the door.”No problem, Lena, we'll be there.” Kate yells back. “W-we.” You stutter out. She smiles down at you and holds out her hand. “I'm not letting you go that easy princess.” You don't know if you could get any redder, but you're pretty sure your face is as red as a tomato now.

Kate pulls you up with her and helps you get dressed before dressing herself. Both of you making sure that your looks don't scream we just fucked in the dressing room. You two manage to join the VIPs, getting treated just like one with all the special little bits that came along with it. You guys got a special spot on the side of the stage and you weren't even upset about your friends not being with you. How could you be when you got to be with Kate Fucking Bishop and get the VIP upgrade for free?

As the opening band plays, Kate comes up behind you and pulls you back to where the other VIPs don't notice her standing there with you. Luckily, it's dark enough. She wraps her arms around your waist behind swaying with you to the music and enjoying the opening band with you.

Kate kisses your neck, which has you gasping. “Enjoying the show, princess?” She whispers in your ear, and you nod in response, which makes her smile. “I'm gonna enjoy it more once you get on stage.” You look back and up at her, kissing her jawline. “You better not take your eyes off me.” Kate says in your ear. “I wouldn't dream of it Katie.” You smile and kiss her as the opening band gets ready to play their last song. She pulls away leaving you chasing her, but she has to go and so you watch her disappear once more.

The opening band finishes up their set and heads off, high fiving all of the VIPs as they pass by. It takes a few minutes as the sets are all changed. The anticipation rising within you. The crowd starts to go crazy as they get the first glance of the band waiting to come out. Natahsa is the first one out with a loud roar from the crowd. Wanda follows, and the Yelena. Last is Kate. She struts onto the stage, catching your eye as she winks at you before she turns around and does a backflip on stage. The crowd went absolutely nuts at this. You can tell she is just showing off to impress you.

You smile, a little chuckle coming out of you as you shake your head at her. Kate sits herself down at her drums. Pulling out the sticks she just used on you making your face flush. You notice how the sticks glisten in the light more than normal. You can't help the gasp that escapes your lips. Kate smirks at you as she notices your reaction. The realization that dawns on you in that moment. She licks over the stick, staring you down. Watching your reaction intently. You feel yourself clench around nothing but you remember the sensation of the drumsticks inside of you. A pool of wetness is between your thighs once more. She gives you a wink as she starts off the set. She is absolutely going to be the death of you, but you couldn't ask for anything more.

The sets goes on, and you can't believe the night you're having. The spot is amazing and the fact you actually got fucked by your celebrity crush has your head spinning and your pinching yourself. The show is everything you could have asked for. The night was everything and more. Even if it turns out to be a one-time thing you'd get to tell your friends you fucked Kate Bishop.

The show came to an end with an amazing encore. As the band exits the stage on the other side, Kate does the opposite. She comes right up to you, grabbing you by the hips and kissing you. She doesn't care who sees, but you can hear the gasp around you and some cheering from afar. “I'm sorry I just couldn't help myself.” Kate pulls back a little and leans her forehead against yours.

Though you were taken by surprise at the drummer's forwardness, you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and smiled. “You did amazing Katie.” You tell her before kissing again. You can see the flashes of people's phones going off at the two of you as you bury your face against her. Not used to this at all. She chuckles, wrapping her arms around you fully and lifting you up in her arms. You instinctively wrap your legs around her waist. “Let me take you on a real date princess.” She says as she walks you back towards the dressing room. You nod into her neck, and she kisses the side of your head. “And maybe it will just have to be a breakfast date.” Her voice gets low and sultry, which has you shuddering.

You're excited about where this could lead. In a sea full of beautiful women, Kate chose you, and maybe she will always pick you.

#syd speaks #kate bishop fic #kate bishop fanfiction #kate bishop smut #kate bishop fanfic #kate x reader #kate x y/n #kate bishop #kate bishop x reader smut #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop x reader #drummer!kate #fan!reader

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wosoamazing · 3 months ago

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More Than Football?

Ingrid Engen x Mapi Leòn x Teen!R

Warnings: Celiac Disease (if that counts)

Notes: Just an idea that popped into my head and I ran with it. I hope you all like it 1.5k words

“What time is it?” Ingrid asked her girlfriend as they waited at the private arrivals gate, you hadn’t even met any of the team, yet here you were needing security to escort you through the airport and being picked up at the private arrivals gate. You were a powerhouse and your transfer was major news, something that meant you were no longer a low level footballer.

“She’ll be okay, they’re escorting her, it’s okay,”

“She is going to be so nervous, and the media and fans are just going to make it worse,” Ingrid rambled, she knew you from the National team, but also because your Dad’s were friends, having worked together for many years, you'd received many Jerseys from Ingrid over the years.

“Thank you for picking me up,” you mumbled slightly embarrassed by the amount of security you had with you.

“You’re living with us of course we’d pick you up,” Ingrid replied and you nodded. You tried to convince the club to let you have your own place, there was an apartment two floors above Mapi and Ingrid’s for sale, but they said no. It’s not that you didn’t want to live with someone or that you didn’t like Mapi and Ingrid, you just felt bad. Knowing they would have to buy a whole new set of cooking utensils, more pots and pans, and even new versions of every sauce and spread. They would have to have two of everything, to reduce the chances of you being exposed to gluten. You and your parents had offered to pay for the additional expenses but they refused, it was their choice for you to live with them so they would pay.

“Did you eat on the plane?” Ingrid asked, as Mapi took your bags from you. Ingrid was pretty sure that your answer would be no, you didn’t like flying and she knew you felt like you could never trust plane food to be gluten free, but she still wanted to ask.

“No, but I’m not hungry,” you replied, as you climbed into the back seat of the car.

“Frido no, that one can’t be used,” Mapi exclaimed as she snatched the tub of butter out of the Swedes hands before it could be opened.

“It’s just butter?” Frido shrugged as Ingrid handed her the other tub, the swede had decided she was going to go to training with the three of you and seemingly she had forgotten to eat breakfast that morning.

“What Mapi means is that tub is Skatt’s, because it’s got pink tape on it. It’s gluten free,”

“Aren’t all butter’s gluten free?”

“Not, when you put the knife you’ve used on the bread back in the tub, isn’t it obvious,” you snarked back quietly, thinking no one heard you.

“Skatt, manners and go get your training bag,” Ingrid told you, before turning to apologise to Frido.

“Sorry,” you grumbled back, before going to get your bag.

Frido was taken aback by your extreme personality change from when you were at Ingrid and Mapi’s to now. You were standing outside the training centre, looking at the doors hesitantly, there was no sign of you from before, your entire personality and demeanour was overtaken by nerves.

“You’ve got this,” Ingrid said as she squeezed your hand slightly, sensing how nervous you were.

“You’ll stay with me?” you asked tentatively.

“Of course, our lockers are next to each other. Let’s just go in and see how we feel, we can go from there,” Ingrid reassured you and you gave her a small nod, before you began to walk in.

You were sitting on Alexia’s couch when you started to feel off, your head started to ache slightly and your abdomen cramped ever so slightly, the tale-tale signs you’d been exposed to gluten. It was team bonding and they ordered in, you said you were fine bringing something from home but they insisted they had scouted the restaurant and that if was safe, however you could never really trust someone.

“Ing, I don’t feel good, can we go home? I think I accidentally had some gluten” you asked, thankful you were sitting next to her, meaning you didn’t have to make too much of a scene, she nodded before she said something to Mapi. Ingrid knew how quickly your symptoms could progress and she wanted to get you home as soon as possible.

“Let’s go to the car,” Ingrid said standing up, helping you to your feet, before guiding you out the door, ignoring everyone’s eyes on you both, “Mapi is just seeing if Ale has a sick bag or something,”

—

“We’re going to go to sleep now. If you need anything just call out for us or message us, I’ll leave my phone on for tonight,” Ingrid told you, and you nodded in reply, she placed a kiss on your forehead before leaving. You’d changed into an old pair of training shorts and a singlet when you arrived home, before taking your tablets, having spent the rest of the afternoon in your bed, curled up with a heat pack.

Ingrid woke up later that night to the sound of sobbing, she sat up and checked her phone, she had several messages from you, the first having been sent 45 minutes ago. The last message caused her to feel physically sick.

It’s okay, don’t worry, I’m just a teammate I understand, you don’t have to look after me, sorry if I woke you.

Ingrid rushed around the apartment Ingrid wordlessly walked into your room and handed you two tablets along with some water, which you took before she handed you a new heat pack to replace the now cold one. She laid down next to you and you instinctively curled into her side, her arms wrapping around you.

“Ing, it hurts,” you whimpered out as you tried to find a comfortable position, your insides were cramping like there was no tomorrow, whilst also feeling like they were on fire.

“I know Skatt, I’m so sorry,” Ingrid said as a tear rolled down her cheek, “my phone must’ve turned itself off, I promise I wasn’t ignoring you and I would never ignore you, you’re like a little sister to me, and I care about you, so does Mapi and the team, we would never not help you, I promise,” she paused before continuing “Do you need anything else?”

“Stay?” you quietly asked, scared she would get mad.

“Of course, I’m not leaving again,” she said as she started to run her fingers up and down your back, helping you relax.

“Princesa,” Mapi said softly as she pushed some of Ingrid’s hair out of her face.

“Mapi?” Ingrid mumbled, before rubbing her eyes, and sitting up, willing herself to wake up completely.

“I’m just about to leave for training, I’ve already called Pere and told him you both aren't coming in today. She is doing okay, she is out on the couch, we’ve had breakfast and there is some there for you, she isn’t mad at you, I promise, she feels bad for making you upset, we’ve talked about it. Just take it slow today, promesa,”

“She’s had breakfast?” Ingrid asked checking she heard right, knowing you must be feeling at least slightly better if you’ve eaten.

“Sí, call me if you need anything, I need to go, te amo,”

“Jeg elsker deg,” Ingrid replied, before getting up out of your bed, going to get her phone before walking into the living room.

“God morgen,” you said as you saw Ingrid walk into the living area.

“God morgen,” she replied as she sat down on the couch, “your bed makes it so hard to wake up,” she groaned as she rubbed her eyes, and blinked harshly, trying to wake up more.

“See, it’s not me, I think it’s problem is that it’s too comfortable,” you quipped, as you laughed at her slightly.

“Do you want anything? Need anything?” she asked, getting up to fetch her breakfast.

“No thank you,”

“You sure? You don’t need more meds?”

“Mapi gave me some, it doesn’t really hurt anymore anyway,” you said as she spooned some of her breakfast into her mouth, meaning she could only raise an eyebrow towards you. “It doesn’t hurt as much as last night,” you replied and Ingrid nodded, having gotten the reply she wanted out of you. You hated the concept of pain, you’d always struggled with accepting you were still in large amounts of pain. In your brian the pain you were experiencing now was nothing compared to last night, meaning you weren’t really in pain, however your parents, and now even Ingrid and national team coaches (and most likely soon the Barça coaches) were trying to challenge that idea, you were in pain, it was pain, no matter whether it was less than before.

“About last night-” Ingrid started, however you cut her off, “I’m sorry for upsetting you, it’s not your fault, and I do know you care about me, and sorry for making you feel guilty for your phone not going off,” you blurted out.

“Skatt, it’s not your fault either, I need you to know that. They only wanted you for football and that’s how they treated you, it’s going to take time for you to let go of that. But I want you to know, you are so much more than football to us. You come first, not football. I promise,”

#woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen imagine #mapi león x reader #mapi león imagine #mapi leon x reader #barcelona femeni imagine #fc barcelona x reader #barca femeni x reader #barca femeni imagine

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