#this is my only post on all of this I'm just shaking my head
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hear me out — nam-gyu is actually soooo icky. i don’t care what anyone tells me. he’s a icky icky man. he’s so fucking mean too. he thinks of women as possessions (he’s sooo misogynistic. you can’t convince me otherwise) like what do you mean women are their own person and can control their own lives?! no…. they are possessions!
additionally, he is sooo convincing with his words — he can get anyone to trust him quite easily (especially if they’re naive) and he’s taking full advantage of that.
honestly nam-gyu probably has anyone naive trying things they were always against. he has such a way with words when it comes to getting anyone to open up or doing what he wants them to do. he'll give them everything they need to get them to say yes even if it means making promises he doesn't even plan to keep or fulfill.
also, no one can convince me otherwise that this man doesn’t have a thing for trad wives. he definitely likes the idea of codependency and the fact that someone clings to him like a second skin (but let’s be honest, he definitely doesn’t make it out to seem like he likes it — it’s always constant degradation from him: “stupid bitch, can’t ever do anything for yourself, huh? i have to do everything for you”). also likes the idea of baby trapping, because you can’t leave him ♡ but 100% does not like kids.
i also can see him fetishizes the FUCK out of lesbians (once again… this man is ICKY) and i definitely feel like if he was the type to get into a relationship with someone who is bisexual (or closeted lesbian. specifically if he coerces them) he would exploit the shit out of it. bro definitely has a premium subscription to ph. constantly doom scrolling to find something he hasn’t watched yet (specifically lesbians or threesomes (two girls, one guy) it’s definitely one of his biggest fantasies. he is soo gross ♡)
he would probably likes giving some naive, lightweight (never done drugs before) drugs that he knows they wouldn’t be able to handle just so he they can take advantage.
I AM GOING INSANEEEE. i am clawing and gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.
warnings: 18+, DARK content, dubcon, baby trapping
bro i am so sorry i haven't let this out to the public sooner, this is so good and factual fr 💔 like this guy is an misogynistic incel honestly, idfc what anyone else says, u literally can see it in the show how he treats se-mi. he's a meanie.
THE PH SUBSCRIPTION IS SO REAL. also, forces or not, makes u watch porn with him, the disgusting ones like heavy bondage/bdsm, prolly whilst sticking a wand vibrator on ur clit in a setting that's intense BUT wont make u cum so its pure torture..
guys has anyone done se-mi x reader x nam-gyu ? like hello? hello????? ITS RIGHT THERE prolly would watch u & se-mi whilst he's cucking himself. or he's right in the middle of the action, both ur pussies rubbing on his dick.
also, i love nam-gyu corruption kink, to someone whos absolutely clean, pure, law abiding citizen, prolly doesnt even know half of the kinks or stuff u see in pornhub, BUT THAT'S WHY NAM-GYU EXISTS!! to teach you allat, to corrupt u :^
i just dont feel like hes a good person at all, in smut mindset, and in fr the character, hes those toxic bfs who's only "strong" cuz u're just a lil bit weaker than him. and if u try to leave, nuh-uh, u can't, u wanted a child to begin with right?
"fuck you mean, 'i'm leaving you'? bitch please," he scolds, pumping another load inside- straight to your womb, "you wanna be a single mom?" you shake your head immediately, you were on birth control.. but maybe not... oh no! "then don't bullshit me with saying you're 'leaving me'... you know you love me." let's just hope he'll be a good dad... ( ◜‿◝ )♡
if anyone needs a fluffy lovey namgyu smut this aint the place.. jk, i would prolly post one too heheh <3 also, now i wanna make a full on incel!nam-gyu x reader smut mannn
#squid game 2#squid game#nam-gyu#player 124#squid game x reader#squid game season 2#squid game smut#nam gyu#namgyu#nam-gyu smut#nam-gyu x reader#nam gyu x reader#nam gyu smut
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Three Peaks - George Clarke
Warnings: none, some swearing
Thank you for the request! I have some serious writers block right now so bear with as the time between posts may be a little longer. I appreciate you!
———
"I don't know how I got roped into this one" I adjusted the microphone I was securing to Chris' t-shirt. He chuckled, patting my shoulder as I finished.
"Well, there aren't many of you fit enough to actually climb three mountains so it was quite the easy choice." Chris said. I sighed, shaking my head. Mentally slapping myself for telling Chris casually that I enjoyed a good hike.
Chris had the thought for a video that honestly, I couldn't even make fun of. It was a really well thought out idea. A group of his friends and crew tackling the three peaks challenge. Which is essentially just climbing three mountains in 24 hours. Seems damn near impossible, especially considering the group he had.
I had been part of Chris' camera crew for almost a year now, and I felt like I had really found a good group of friends in this job. Outside of filming I had been hanging out with Chris and his core group frequently. Many nights spent out at different pubs, or simply hanging out at their flat.
"Let's get going shall we?" Chris began to lead the group. I stuck towards the middle, filming the boys who had taken the lead.
Reev, Chris, and George led the pack as we began the ascent to the top of our first mountain.
"I can already tell this is going to be fucking awful." I heard from behind me. I turned my head to see Arthur Hill beginning the days complaints.
"George you owe me a tenner!" Television shouted from beside him.
"What?" I asked in confusion.
"I placed a bet that Hill would be the first to complain." Television explained. I threw my head back laughing, panning the camera to catch Hills reaction. He deadpanned and just stared at the camera.
"Don't worry Arthur, I'm not looking forward to this either."
Each boy had been given their own special challenge for the video, and I was really enjoying watching Reev attempt to put rocks in the boys shoes.
"What's your challenge?" I asked Chris as I caught up to him.
"I need to get someone to believe a fake fact about each mountain." He whispered to the camera.
"That feels alarmingly easy considering the group we're with." I said. He agreed and told me he was already scheming up his first lie to tell Arthur.
We had been climbing for close to two hours by this point, and we were nearing the peak.
"Enjoying yourself love?" George asked me as he took a seat on the rock next to me.
"It's not nearly as bad as I expected it to be, I'll be honest." I snacked on the apple slices I packed, offering one out to George.
We sat in a comfortable silence, watching the others as they bantered back and forth with each other.
I sat and admired George as he laughed, not being able to help myself from laughing along. He had an infectious laugh. Chris caught me staring at George and raised an eyebrow at me. He was the only one of the group who knew I had somewhat of a crush on George. I had unfortunately admitted it to him accidentally after one drink too many during a pub crawl.
We had all gotten up again to keep our pace going up the mountain. The terrain upwards wasn't too bad. The most annoying part by far was having to continue to film while simultaneously making sure I didn't fall down.
"I never thought this would end!" Arthur Hill screamed as we reached the peak.
"I'm sure you're used to hearing that in bed." Harry joked with him patting him on the back.
We all shared a laugh and took in the nice view. It wasn't long before we realized that 'huh, guess we just go down now' and begin to descend the mountain.
I trailed behind Chris and ArthurTV, catching some of their conversation as Chris tried to convince Arthur that some celebrity had been the first person to complete this challenge. I had to actively hold in a giggle as I knew Chris was having him on with his challenge.
During my distracted state, I felt myself slide to the side as my foot hit a loose rock that sent me falling down. Instinctively deciding to protect my camera, I took the full brunt of the fall to my hip and legs.
"Shit, are you alright?" George asked jogging to catch up to me.
Catching my breath after scaring myself with the fall, I nodded towards him. I turned my camera off and stuck it in its carrying bag beside me, examining my ankle.
It was fairly scraped up, and was slightly throbbing. Nothing that felt it would be too crazy but painful nonetheless.
A few of the others called out to see if I was okay. I gave them a thumbs up.
"I'll stay with her and help her down, you guys can go ahead we'll just be a few minutes." George called back to them.
"Does it hurt?" He asked me, grazing his fingertips over my ankle to assess.
"Not a ton, I think I was more shocked by the fall than anything. I'll be fine George, thank you for staying behind with me." I smiled at him, noting his features contorted with uncertainty at my words.
He stood up, holding his hands out for me to help me up. I happily grabbed them and put pressure on my ankle, feeling a tinge of pain but it was bearable.
I stood upright, George still holding onto my hands to make sure I was steady. He never took his eyes off of mine, scanning my face for any sign of pain.
"I'm good George, I promise." He smiled at me, squeezing my hands.
"I think it's time to reveal my challenge to you." His words took me by surprise as I had no idea where this topic had come from.
He let go of my hands, fishing around in his pocket and pulling out a cue card similar to the other boys. He unfolded it and turned it towards me.
In small, easily recognizable handwriting I read off 'tell Y/n you have feelings for her you dumb twat'. Chris. Of course Chris would write that.
I looked back up to him, his face flushed from either embarrassment or anxiety, I couldn't tell.
"I assume what's written there is true?" I asked George, looking to him for confirmation. He nodded, sliding the paper back into his pocket.
We both stood there a little awkwardly for a moment, neither of us being particularly good at the whole admitting feelings thing.
"Your feelings are mutual." I said, cutting the silence. His eyes widened at me, a smile breaking on his features.
He put an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer for a hug.
"How about we talk more about this over dinner once we’re done with the next two mountains?” He propositioned.
I groaned, “I forgot we still have two fucking mountains to go.” He laughed as I pouted.
He slid his hand up to my cheek, bringing his face closer to mine and connecting our lips in a short, sweet kiss.
“This should give you something to look forward to” he said as he pulled away. It was my turn for my cheeks to turn pink. Despite how tired and sweaty we already were, he still looked absolutely perfect.
“I suppose I can make it through as long as you promise not to let me fall again.” He laughed.
“I’ll do my best.”
We walked downwards, eventually catching up with the others who had stopped for a water break.
“Finally you two made it! Began to think you two were shacking up up there!” ArthurTV exclaimed.
I rolled my eyes at him, laughing.
“Not quite shacking up, but my challenge is complete.” George bragged, Chris’ head shot towards us at these words.
“No way.” He said, looking to me for confirmation.
“Yes way” I replied, George put his arm over my shoulder once again and we watched as the mental cogs turned in the other boys heads.
“Oh my god he finally got the balls to tell her!” Arthur Hill screamed, jumping around like a fangirl.
I looked to George who just shook his head in embarrassment. “Did everyone know except me?” I asked only loud enough for him to hear.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
I knew then that the next two mountains would likely be sex jokes and embarrassing stories, and I was weirdly looking forward to it.
#imagine#chrismd#george clarke#george clarkeey#george clarkey#george clarke fics#george clarke fluff#arthur hill#arthurtv
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boy, you got me drunk on a feeling
⎇lance stroll x gn!reader - he accidentally drinks your drink (oneshot) ⎇author’s note: inspired by my tags on this post. also first fic in 20 days.. this is scary, actually??? ⎇content warnings: drinking/alcohol, suggestive ⎇word count: 1.3k
You smile sweetly and accept the drink Lance hands you. It's your first whereas Lance is already on his second. He slinks into the booth next to you, eagerly joining in on whatever topic of conversation Esteban, Mick & Checo had chosen. You had zoned it out before, too busy casting a careful eye across the club as you tracked the path of your boyfriend.
It wasn't that you didn't trust him and thought he'd sneak off with someone else, no, Lance would never. But... drunk Lance is clumsy Lance and drunk Lance is a Lance who's had one and a half drinks. You were just being cautious, that's all.
You can tell Lance has gotten properly drunk when he shuffles closer, still deep in conversation as he latches his arms around your midriff, his head resting against your shoulder. You smile at his clinginess and peck the top of his head before looking around the club again. To be honest, you were just here for Lance, not really a big fan of the post-race clubbing scene. Too many WAG fights for your liking.
"Baby?" You turn back to face Lance when he calls for you, your faces really close together. You smile at him, a non-verbal gesture for him to continue speaking. "Are you okay?"
"Oh yeah. Just... looking around." You say, shrugging carefully so as to not dislodge Lance's head from your shoulder. Lance frowns softly, his eyebrows furrowing, before he's sitting upright.
"Grab your drink." Lance says, trying to usher you out of the booth. You look at him in confusion, eyebrows sharply furrowed. Lance huffs and grabs your drink as well as his. "I wanna dance, come on. Let's go." Lance says. You laugh softly at his enthusiasm and pluck your bottle from his grip before allowing him to lead you over to the dance floor, your fingers tangled together.
You and Lance stuck to the edge of the dance floor, your arms around each other as you danced together. Lance was singing the occasionally lyric here and there, his voice cracking with drunken excitement. It makes you shake with laughter each time.
After what felt like hours of dancing, you stop and lean in to whisper (or rather, yell) into Lance's ear. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom, okay? Can you take my drink back to the table for me, honey?" Lance nods and takes your half-finished drink from your hand before kissing you one last time. You watch him make his way over to the booth before turning and heading towards the bathroom.
After standing in a ridiculously long queue, you finally managed to get in and out of the bathroom, quickly pushing through throngs of people to get back to the table your boyfriend was adorably pouting at, all of his friends having disappeared.
"Lancey, honey, why do you look so upset?" You say, slipping into the booth next to him. He startles, looking up at you with wide eyes, before all but launching himself at you, his arms wrapping around your shoulders.
"Everyone left to get drinks. I stayed here for you!" Lance slurs. He's had more to drink since you left, you note. You look around for your drink, noting only empty bottles and glasses.
"And... my drink?" You ask, meeting Lance's gaze again. Lance looks around at the contents littering the table before gasping, his shoulders unfurling as he sits up straight.
"I drank it. Fuck. Y/n, baby, 'm so sorry. Forgive me." Lance whines, nuzzling his face in your neck. You chuckle softly, threading your fingers through his dark, thick strands, scratching softly. Lance continues to whine indecipherable words and you sigh, pulling his face away from your neck.
"What are you saying?" You say softly, smiling sweetly at the pretty yet intoxicated mess that is your boyfriend. His half-lidded gaze makes your stomach softly turn with lust, but you push it down. He's too drunk to be doing anything like that.
"Buy you another one. 'M sorry." Lance slurs. You think it over before shrugging. One and a half drinks won't make you that tipsy. You soon accept and before long, Lance is basically dragging you out of the booth the second you agree, giggling excitedly about making things better. You smile softly and let him lead you over to the bar.
Excluding the half of your bottle that he accidentally drank, Lance is on his seventh drink. You've already told him he has to stop after this one, but you still catch him sneaking sips of other people's drinks when he thinks you aren't looking.
"Y/n, my love, 'm sorry." Lance says, dragging the final word out. You smile at him, despite the confusion you feel. He whines and presses even closer to you, his lips pursed out in an alcohol-slick pout. You lean down and peck his lips, startling him, before he giggles excitedly, leaning up for another kiss. You deny him it.
"Why you sorry, Lance?" You ask instead, picking up your soda. You take a sip and offer some to Lance who perks up and eagerly sips from your straw, his eyes closing as he swallows down what he drank. About a third of your drink is gone now.
Lance seems to realise at the same time you do and he whines, nuzzling his face against your bicep like a cat. "Keep stealing your drinks." Lance slurs. He lifts his face up and you watch as his lip literally quivers, tears pooling in his eyes. It's adorable.
"Oh darling, it's okay. You're just thirsty, huh, baby?" You say, gently brushing your fingers over Lance's eyes. Your thumb comes away damp with unshed tears. Lance huffs before looking up with a pleading expression on his face.
"Buy you another?" Lance asks. You chuckle and lean down to kiss him again, more insistent this time. Lance whines and grips at your arms, pressing up against you. The kiss is a mess, spit smearing everywhere, but Lance is making the prettiest of sounds against your mouth, so you can't pull away just yet.
When you do finally part, Lance continues to look at you with pleading eyes. You tilt your head before remembering what he'd said before you'd kissed him. "No, honey, I'm okay. We're gonna go home soon, okay? I'm sober enough to drive." You say. Lance hums before snatching up his drink and downing the rest of it in one go.
You splutter before laughing, picking up your drink and copying him, forgoing the straw. "Bathroom first." Lance says and you allow him to lead the way, sighing in relief when you notice the lack of queue. You two quickly use the bathroom before Lance is clinging to your side again.
"Home, yeah?" You asks. Lance slurs 'home' in response before falling into a mumbled litany of 'sorry's. You shush him and sooth him through each one, but his words never trail off despite your insistent promises that it's okay and that you've already forgive him.
When you get to the car, you can't even open Lance's door for him, your boyfriend instead pressing you against the side of the car as he sloppily mouths at your neck.
"'M sorry... how do I prove 'm sorry?" Lance mumbles. The cold night air brushes against the wet patch of spit from Lance's mouth that stains your neck, and you shiver, tightening your grip on Lance's hips.
"Lance, honey, I've already forgiven you. I wasn't even mad to begin with." You say, chuckling softly when your boyfriend pouts up at you again. You sigh and roll your eyes fondly. You really ought to have learnt how dramatic Lance can be sometimes. "How about a kiss then?"
"Eighteen..." Lance murmurs. You laugh boisterously at his number choice before cupping his face, soothing a gentle thumb over the plump, pink curve of his cheek.
"Eighteen kisses for Mr. Stroll, coming up." You say, leaning in. Lance eagerly presses back against you. When you pull away, he murmurs a small one and a jolt of excitement goes through you. "You better count each and every one, baby."
"I will. Now kiss me again..."
© all rights to babybearnation 2025.
#ᵔᴥᵔ fics#formula 1#f1#lance stroll#ls18#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#lance stroll x reader#ls18 x reader#formula 1 oneshot#f1 oneshot#babybearnation
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AT THE END OF THE DAY — JOAQUÍN TORRES
REQUESTS: Joaquín Torres: the reader is his girlfriend. He is always overprotective of you. One day, you're in great danger, and he has to save you with his falcon title rn. After saving you, he holds you the entire time. @tsunchani
WARNING(S): angst, fluff, slight gunshot wound
WORD COUNT: 3,642
PAIRING: Joaquín Torres x fem!Reader
A/N: I've been having a hard time finding my writer's voice again and Emy told me to just take the leap and post my fics. So I hope you guys enjoy the story.
MASTERLIST
"How'd you even manage to sit us front row?" Sam questioned as he watched Joaquín walk down the white house's halls with ease and familiarity.
"Her..." Joaquín's grin grew as you spotted him coming your way. You dismissed the agent you were discussing a report with and made your way over to him and Sam. Sam was stunned into silence as he watched the interaction between you two fall into place.
"Hermosa." Beautiful. Joaquín muttered softly with a chuckle as he pulled you into a quick kiss. Your faint giggle makes his heart flood with warmth.
Oh. Her.
Sam mouthed as he looked away from the public display of affection.
"Ya mero terminas?" Are you almost finished? Joaquín asks you.
"Yeah, I just need to give a quick debrief then I'm all yours. Oh, which reminds me..." You hold your finger up as you pickpocket two clearance badges. Two red lanyards now dangled before Joaquín as he grabs them from you. "You'll be needing these if you even want to think about sitting in for the president's presentation."
"Sweet!" Joaquín ha-ha's as you place it over his neck and then extended one out to Sam who was waiting to be finally introduced.
Your smile fades as your eyes widen with realization. "Oh my god-"
"Mi amor, you don't need to-" My love.
"Holy shit it's...I mean you're Captain America!" You look over at Joaquín for reassurance. The nod he gives you only further sends you into fangirl mode. "It's Captain America Joaquín..."
"Most people just call me Sam, sweetheart." Sam chuckled as he extended his hand out to shake yours.
"I'm a huge fan. Thank you...for your service I mean, and to this country and saving the world." You cringe at yourself. Joaquín bit back a smile as he looked between you two. “That– sounded a whole lot better in my head.”
"Sam this is my fiancé, Y/n. She has level 10 clearance and the President's not second but most requested personnel. And can kick my ass any given day." You furrow your brows at him, smacking him on the chest with the suck of your teeth.
"Hi..." You grow timid under Sam's gaze. "Y/n." You gesture to yourself.
"You have a fiancé man?" Sam looks over to Joaquín with an incredulous gaze.
Joaquín hums and lifts your hand to display the ring he proposed with. You grin and point with your finger at your ring.
"Look at you, man!" Sam's gaze flickers between your two grinning faces. If golden retriever and innocence were a person the two of you embodied it perfectly. "I can see it." Sam nodded to himself as he walked ahead of you two.
Your brows furrowed in question as you watched him walk off. "See what?"
"I don’t know. I’ll ask him about it later. I’ll see you there okay.” Cupped your face and sighed into the kiss he planted on you again. Your shoulders fell as you melted into the kiss. You raised your hand and gently cupped his cheek's right side. Though any passerby could distinguish the rate at which the kiss was leading, you took the initiative and pushed him away, placing your hand on his chest gently. He huffed with a huge grin as you swiped your thumb gently across his lower lip. Trying to rid him of your lipstick. More so the obvious smeared coat of your lipstick on him. You laughed as you continued to rub it off, even grossing him out by licking your thumb lightly.
“Hold on I missed a spot!”
“Mi amor, esta bien. Just leave it. Let them know who I belong to.” My love, it’s okay. He cheekily bit back a laugh.
“Who is rubbing off on you, trouble? Oh my god. Go get out of here before you're late,” You shake your head in disbelief. "or I'll beat you up."
“Bossy,” Joaquín mutters to himself. You feign a step forward your fist feigned, raised up like you’ll sock his shoulder. He laughs as your imitation tactic, pretending to flinch as he laughs at you, walking then to where Sam is hovering, lingering against the wall as he watches you two. The two idiots, happily in love. He couldn’t fight the grin that made its way onto his face.
“Te quiero!” I love you. Joaquín calls after you. You grin and look back over your shoulder.
“Muchisimo!” So much. You exclaim. The click of your heels fades with that of your turned back. You made a left at the end of the hall and then you were out of his sight. Joaquín couldn’t help the swell of his heart soaring. He grins down at his shoes and then looks up timidly at Sam. He rolls his eyes at the chagrin and cheeky smirk he receives.
“So when you said you weren’t wanting to look for a relationship-“
“-I was referring to no longer needing to look.” Joaquín clarified, pocketing his hands. “Cause I got her…”
“And here I was like a jackass trying to set you up. I’m sorry man.”
“It’s all good. We laughed about it the other day.” Joaquín gestured over his shoulder.
“So it’s that serious huh…you happy?” Sam slapped him across his left shoulder. Still asking even though he had a whole show of your love and affection towards one another.
Joaquín squinted at the question. His grin widened. “Was the ring not enough evidence?” He teases. “I can call her back here if you want. I’ll even dip her this time!”
“No, no need. Damn…I’m happy for you Joaquín.” Sam clasped his shoulder. “You know doing this sort of thing for so long. It gets lonely after a while. Hell, even I’ll admit it. When you’re too far into the job, into the crime-fighting and saving, you forget about the one thing you’re dying to go after…”
“What’s that?”
“Love, my man. And you hit the jackpot. You hold on to her as long as you can alright. I know with the jobs you both do there’s bound to be a few bumps in the road but hold on to that. Cause in the end that’s the only thing that’s gonna matter.”
“She’s my everything. Mi todo.”
“Yeah? Alright kid, hold onto your todo and don’t let go. Come one we gotta go greet Mr. P-R-E-S-I-D-E-N-T.” Sam spelled out with a smirk. A bit of a swagger in his step. Joaquín’s laugh broke out as he fell in step with Sam
-
Sam had clocked all the closest exists as soon as he and Joaquín had sat down with Isaiah. He also had noticed the subtle flickering gazes you spared Joaquín long ways from the other side of the room. Your head slightly tilted to the right to meet his gaze every once and a while. You radiated a sweet grin as you switched your surveillance back onto the President.
Everything had been going great until Isaiah stood up. You watched as he flung one of your agents against the curtains. He pulled out a gun and aimed it at the glass the President was inside.
You hurried forward raising your hand to your ear to call for backup when you clocked another man reach for his belt. "He's got a gun!" You yelled and slammed your weight into his side. A shot rang as soon as your bodies collided. Then panic in the room escalated as everyone began to run and try to leave through the exits. The glass above the President had shattered causing him to duck and shield his head.
Joaquín's fight mode kicked in the second the first shot rang out. He set his eyes out for you, keeping low as he started making his way through the panic of people.
“Y/n!” When he found you, you and the man who shot the gun were staring off, each of your heads turning to the flung weapon on the carpet. You lunged for it first. “Y/n!”
Joaquín had followed after you, but he flinched back when another shot rang out. You and the man both froze. Joaquín stood behind you not knowing whether you had been the one hit. But when the man knelt in front of you toppled over, he felt his shoulders fall in relief.
When the man fell, Joaquín rushed over to you. He pulled you back and wrapped his free arm around your waist as his other hand came up to your face to inspect you.
"You okay? You okay?" He muttered as he gently cupped your chin and turned you so you were facing him. It took you a second to register it was him. You nodded in response. You glanced over his shoulder watching in horror as Isaiah threw another agent.
"I-Isaiah?" You gasped, you looked around watching another one of your men escort the President out of there. It was pure chaos. His heart was still racing. He pressed his head to yours quickly before having you both stand up. He looked around the room, eyes falling to Sam. Their eyes met in a silent conversation.
"Get her out of here!" Sam ordered. "Both of you!"
"Let's go." Joaquín didn't hesitate to grab your hand, pulling you through the sea of people. He pushed and shoved his way through the crowd, his gaze set on an exit.
When he finally broke free of the throng of people, he stayed low and kept you close. You hadn't seen his counter-surveillance kick in since the Flag Smashers, ensuring your safety and his at all costs. However, your resistance against his grip on your hand made it difficult to keep moving forward. He looked down at your interlocked hands and could register your hesitance to continue with him. "I could see your gears turning, what?"
You looked back from where you came from, then looked back to his gaze. "I'm secret service Joaquín-"
His free hand came up to grasp your chin as he lifted your gaze to his. His jaw was locked as he stared you down, not wanting to hear what you were about to say. "No-"
"I got my orders the same as you do." You defended.
"I don't care about orders." Joaquín shook his head as his grip on your chin tightened. "Your job isn't more important than your safety."
"It's the President of the United States!"
"And it's you. There are a lot more people who can protect the President. He'll be fine. Trust me." The sound of distant gunshots made Joaquín's grip on you tighten.
You closed your eyes. Knowing he'd argue with you until you subjected him to the couch for the night. He never knew when to stop prioritizing you over the world. You loved and hated him for it.
"Just listen to me." His grip on your chin eased as his thumb brushed your cheek. "Por favor, mi amor." Please, my love. He knew he was using the right words that pulled on your heartstrings. "Just think about it but not right now 'cause we got to go-" He had looked up in time to see a geared personnel aim their gun right at the two of you. It unsettled him that he had grabbed your waist, tugging you closer as he dropped and rolled the both of you to the ground. Your scream hit his ears as the shot hit the spot where you were previously standing.
"Oh my god!" You screech as you both scramble up on your feet.
The two of you started booking it when shots were fired in your direction again. You were both running low toward the exit when one last shot hit your arm and stopped you in your tracks. You cried out as you grabbed at your shoulder as you fell, but it was enough for you to be vulnerable. Joaquín turned around when he heard your wince and the sound of you collapsing. His blood ran cold as you fell to your knees. "No! Hey no, you're okay. Come on!"
"S-So that's what that- f-feels like, good to know. What the fuck!" You moaned out in pain as Joaquín helped you to your feet again.
"That's good you're still cracking wise on me. Always a good sign." He tried to keep you calm to keep you focused. His heart rate had spiked and he felt his own blood boiling as he watched your wound bleed. His only thought was getting you as far away from danger as possible so he could tend to your arm as soon as you were safe.
"Shut the hell up, Joaquín." You gritted your teeth. He finally saw the front doors come into view once you rounded another corner.
He knew your tone too well to know not to comment back, but he chuckled to himself as you neared the exit. "Just trying to keep you in good spirits, sweetheart." His grip on your waist tightened protectively as he started pushing you forward faster. "Almost there, I got you-"
"Stop right there! Hands up!" You and Joaquín froze as the S.W.A.T team pointed the ends of their guns at you.
Your heart dropped as the team came into view, and the moment he felt your body stiffen, his jaw clenched. A silent curse passed his mind as his right hand went up slowly and he took a step forward to block you from the threat. "Don't shoot. Lieutenant Joaquín Torres, Sam Wilson's second in command, sir. Y/n Y/l/n, secret service. She needs medical attention." He gestured to himself then at you.
"Joaquín, it's a shoulder wound…" You scoff quietly at him.
"They don't know that," He whispered back to you, his right hand remained raised in the air.
The captain's eyes narrowed as he observed your body language with a hint of suspicion. Then his gaze flickered down lower to your shoulder. There was a growing stain of blood staining the sleeve of your blazer. "We got a medic on site. You can be examined there." The captain informed. "Let them through!"
"Thank you," Joaquín said in passing as he curled your arm around his shoulder once more.
The two of you passed the armed men swiftly. Once you were past them, Joaquín picked up his pace a little more as he hurried you outside. He could see the mentioned medic site and caught the attention of a first responder by raising two fingers in the air swiftly. He walked over to a bed and set you down on it, slowly uncurling your good arm from around him.
"Injury?" The woman came forward, inserting blue gloves over her hands.
"Upper arm. A gunshot wound, she's been hit in the shoulder." Joaquín answered, stepping back as the EMT gently pulled your blazer back to reveal the extent of the gunshot wound. You winced as the fabric was pulled against your wound.
"The bullet will need to be removed. What's your pain like?"
“On a scale of one to ten: like I want to punch him." You groan as you grit your teeth, feeling her poke and prod around the wound.
"That's not rare." She smiled at you trying to ease the tension you were holding. "Most patients in your current situation say they want to strangle someone so I'd say you're gonna be alright."
You hum in response, but you still keep your eyes locked on somewhere else. "Is there any way you can check her head for a concussion-" You both look back to Joaquín. "She's not usually the joke-cracking type." Joaquín teased.
You roll your eyes as you look back to the medical. "Ignore him. He's overprotective of my well-being."
She laughs at the banter between the two of you as she moves to clean up the wound area and apply some numbing solution to the surrounding area. The moment the antiseptic wipe comes into contact with your skin, your shoulders tense from the sting. The medic notices your reaction. She then proceeded to pull out forceps, then turned to you. "I'm sorry, but this is probably going to hurt."
"Well, how much worse can it get?" You wince and turn to look at Joaquín. He walked up to the bed and pressed a kiss to your temple, his hand reaching for your right hand instantly.
He bit back a laugh as he smirked at you, but his concern was obvious. His hand twitched as if it had a subconscious desire to pull you in closer. The medic then began to prod the bullet wound, causing you to gasp and wince.
"I promise it'll be over soon…" She tried to comfort you. "This is the worst part."
"I thought getting shot was the worst part?"
She chuckled, "That's a given." While you focused your mind on something else to try and ease the pain, she continued to poke and prod around the wound. She found her mark and then pulled out the bullet swiftly. The pain lasted for a few more seconds because of her fast work, but after that, you began to feel a numbing tingling sensation. "There we go." She nodded.
"You did good, mi amor," Joaquín reassured you as he gripped your hand again. "That wasn't so bad.
You took deep breaths as your heart rate calmed back down. You managed a smile as you looked up at him. The medic then started to disinfect the wound and bandage it up to stop it from bleeding.
“Yeah cause a gunshot wound is nothing compared to having your orbital broken.” You lean in his chest.
“Broken orbital.” The medic questions.
“Long story.” You brush it off.
“You’re good to go. Take these,” She hands you some painkillers. “Get some rest, and make sure to keep changing the dressings to reduce the chance of infection.”
“Will do, thanks for everything.” Your face shows your gracious smile.
“Take care you two.” She dips her chin in goodbye before rushing over to another patient.
“Well that was fun.” Joaquín quips as he walk over to stand in front of you. His grin widening as he brushes back some baby hairs.
“Our best date yet.” You chuckle.
"Mm, I think I prefer the one where we skip work tomorrow and lay in bed all day." He wrapped his arms around you gently, pulling you just a little closer to him. "Besides, I thought you loved a bit of adventure in our life," He teased as he ran his nose along the side of your cheek.
"Yes but you know not like this, Joaquín." You sighed into his touch.
He took a few deep breaths to calm his heart, not wanting to admit that seeing you injured had terrified him, and he was trying to play it cool. He just had to keep reminding himself you were alright.
"I can hear you spiraling." You breathe out a faint laugh
"Not spiraling. I'm totally fine, and-" He fumbled over his words as he met your gaze again. He pressed his forehead against yours, taking deep breaths to steady himself. "I'm spiraling cause you scared the hell out of me."
"I never mean to. You know that. It comes with our jobs, Joaquín. Our lives are constantly on the line."
"Yeah, I know that." He sighed as his hands moved to rest on your waist. "Doesn't make it any easier though…"
"I don't think it ever will."
"No, I suppose it won't…" His thumbs idly rubbed back and forth along your waist, and the silence that settled between you grew thick.
"You can't save us from everything…" You lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek.
He hummed and closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger for a moment longer than necessary before he pulled back. Despite being comforted by your touch, he couldn't shake off the fear that had settled in his chest.
"Can I ask you something?"
He hesitated for a moment, not sure if he wanted to voice his worries. But ultimately, he decided it was better to get it off his chest.
He took a deep breath, "Do you ever consider… quitting? All of it?" He asked cautiously, not wanting to upset you.
"No, though somethings I imagine what a life of peace looks like. Though I wouldn't want to start that reality without you. Until we're both ready for that cliche of white picket fence life. You don't want to give that up right now though, I can see how much you love the thrill and adventure, so neither do I."
His expression softened, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. He knew you knew him so well, which made him love you even more.
"You're right, I don't want to give it up right now." He admitted. "But the idea of a quiet life does sound nice, especially if it means spending more time with you without worrying that something could happen to you every second." He murmured as his hands shifted to rest on your hips. "But it is just a job at the end of the day."
"One you love." You teased.
"Oh, I do love it…" Joaquín smirked as he dipped his head to press a kiss to the soft skin of your neck. His gaze shifted to look at your bandaged shoulder, a faint frown appearing on his face just for a moment. He lifted his hand slowly and gently brushed his fingers along the edges of the bandage, careful not to cause any pain to your wound.
"But…" He whispered, his breath hot against your skin, "I love you more, mi amor." He added as he pressed a sweet kiss to your skin once more.
#joaquin torres imagine#joaquin torres x reader#joaquin torres x fem!reader#joaquin torres imagines#joaquin torres oneshot#joaquín torres#joaquín torres imagines#joaquín torres imagine#joaquín torres x reader#joaquín torres x fem!reader#joaquín torres oneshot#my gif#writings by juls#writings by juls: joaquín torres
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OK, I'M REALLY, REALLY NERVOUS TO PUT THIS HERE, AND I'M NOT SURE HOW MANY PEOPLE WILL LIKE MY WRITING ON MY TUMBLR SINCE MY BLOG IS ANIMATION AND 3D RENDERING BASED, BUT I WROTE SOME JESSTRA LAST NIGHT FOR SOMEONE. I MIGHT POST IT IN OTHER PLACES BUT I'M NOT SURE LOL
(NOTE. I've barely proofread this LMAO)
The two are heading down a gravel path towards a small town. Petra’s steps are concentrated and calculated as she holds a few emeralds that she’s going to trade in for some gold bars, mainly to repair Miss Butter, as the sword has gotten a little worn down, despite having enchantments to prevent that. Jesse, for whatever reason decided to tag along. She’s brought her own items. Some iron, a few emeralds, and a couple of diamonds, just in case she wants to buy anything special from the market.
“So, since I didn’t get to say good morning to you, how’ve you been?” Jesse asks, lightly tugging at Petra’s free hand.
“Oh, sorry, I was in a bit of a rush. Didn’t expect you to come along,” she says. “I’m alright, though.” Petra gently wraps a pinkie around Jesse’s. It’s a minor touch, not important; Petra does it quite often nowadays. But Jesse can’t help but feel her heart flutter.
“It’s alright, I get it.” Jesse grins, squeezing her finger around Petra’s.
Then silence falls upon both of them and to Jesse, it feels a little awkward. The sound of crunching beneath their boots and subtle breathing only fuels the awkwardness. Not that Jesse isn’t used to silence, but she would enjoy some conversation with, y’know, her one and only.
“What’re you gonna use the emeralds for? You never told me.” She starts.
“To repair Miss Butter. She’s gotten a bit damaged since the last caving trip,” Petra scoffs. “The one where I had to save your sorry butt every second.”
Jesse huffs in response, but it’s light-hearted. “Hey, at least you were hot, doing it.” Petra’s eyes widen, and she shakes her head in total disagreement. “No, no, I was not.” Her face is visibly turning red, and the tips of her ears are burning up.
The shorter chuckles, elbowing her. “Um, yes, you were.”
Recovering from her brief embarrassment, Petra shoots back. “Uh-huh. And was that the reason you were so pathetic there? Couldn’t help staring at me?”
Jesse blinks awkwardly, feeling the weight of her body straining her legs suddenly. “No…”
“Pfft, you don’t sound very sure.”
She just couldn’t stand it when Petra teased her back like that. It sent her swooning. Urgh!
Petra lifts a hand to study the emeralds that rest in her palm, getting visibly bored on the walk to the town. She scratches at scars, reaches to the back of her neck, and fiddles with her collar. She’s kinda cute when she does that. Jesse can’t help but stare, unable to pull her eyes away.
“Petra?”
“Hm?” Petra glances at Jesse from the corner of her eye.
Jesse hesitates, but she goes along with her weird train of thought. “You look as pretty as those emeralds you are holding.”
Petra chuckles in amusement, finding that flirt to be absolutely awful. “That was the worst one yet, Jess.” She quips.
“Fine.” Jesse crosses her arms. “You’re pretty handsome.”
Raising a brow, Petra stops walking and turns to Jesse. “What’re you trying to do?”
“Flirt with you.”
“And your end goal?”
Jesse feels her stomach drop. Admitting this will be no easy feat. She scuffs her boots along the gravel, her gaze falling to the ground. “I, uh… To get you to-- to kiss me.”
Petra, stunned, takes a small step back. “Oh.” Her body is tense, but she does her best to relax it. “Um, I mean-- you could’ve just… asked? You don’t have to win me over, or whatever.” She begins taking slow and hesitant steps towards Jesse, stuffing her emeralds in her pockets.
“I-I know, but it just feels… awkward, heh.” How awful, Jesse can feel that her face is burning up. Just the thought of kissing her is flipping her stomach in all sorts of directions. They’ve never kissed before, and the chance to bring it up never really occurred. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to--”
“...No! No, no, Jesse. It’s…” She’s desperately trying to find the right words, gesturing her hands around in the air, clawing for a sentence. “It’s fine! If you want to, we can, just let me know when.” Petra begins walking past, but Jesse grabs her by her collar.
“I want to. Now, if it’s okay.” Jesse gazes up into Petra’s eyes, but she’s unable to keep eye contact for long.
“I… now? Like, now, now?” The redhead grimaces, her face etched with fear. “Are you sure?”
Slowly, Jesse nods.
Petra can practically feel the sweat beginning to bead on her forehead…
“You okay with it?” Jesse asks.
Weakly, she nods. “I’m just… don’t expect it to be any good.” And with that, Petra begins to reach up to Jesse’s jawline, her fingers just ghosting her cheek.
Deciding to be a little brave, Jesse places her boots on top of Petra’s, grabbing her shoulders and lifting herself to an equal height. This makes Petra suddenly very hesitant, and her eyes look anywhere but at Jesse.
“C’mon, don’t chicken out, Petra.”
“I-I wasn’t!” She reels her hand back, clenching it. Chuckling, Jesse reaches to grab her fist, caressing it with her thumb.
“It’s okay, just take it slow. I know you’re not used to this.” Her voice is soft and gentle, plenty reassuring. Not to mention the touch. It sends prickles of warmth spiking through Petra’s chest. Not a feeling she’s used to. Not the touch she’s used to.
“Okay, okay. I-- I’ve got this,” Petra stammers, her heart beginning to race. “Easy, easy.” Jesse’s hands slide from her shoulders, down her sides and to her waist, steadying herself, and trying to ground Petra from her anxieties.
Ugh, she’s too hesitant to do this. What if she messes it up? What if Jesse doesn’t like it? What if… someone’s watching them? That would be beyond embarrassing, and awful for her reputation.
Sighing, Petra turns her head away, a hand reaching back down to her pockets. “Listen, I just need to get these emeralds--”
Jesse is glaring at her.
“Okay, okay, fine.”
Jesse begins to lean in slowly, giving her enough time to ease into it. Petra’s breath hitches, and her brow furrows. But Jesse’s confidence is alluring and slightly contagious. And with her mind finally made up, she leaned in as well, closing her eyes and closing the small gap that had been between them just moments before.
Her brows raise with pleasure and realisation. It’s not as bad as she thought it’d be. Jesse’s lips are soft and comforting against hers, and she gives an involuntary sigh of relief into her mouth. At that, Jesse’s grip on her waist tightens, bunching the fabric between her fingers. A pair of hesitant hands make their way up Jesse’s back, one hand reaching up as far as the back of her head, feeling her brown, fluffy, although slightly untidy, hair.
Jesse slightly tilts her head, making the kiss more comfortable and slightly more passionate for the both of them. Petra’s lips are so firm and sure, even if a little chapped. As if that doesn’t make it more endearing, though. She pulls Petra’s body against hers, a small, almost inaudible moan escaping her lips. It makes the redhead shudder and tense, and Jesse can feel it. She feels her muscles tighten, so she pulls back, allowing both of them to catch their breaths and give it a small break.
“Hoh… wow…” Petra breathes out, completely dazed and flushed. Jesse, to no surprise, is also completely red.
“Heh, you alright, there?” The shorter cups Petra’s cheek, rubbing her thumb where her freckles are. She’s so delightful to gaze upon, especially this close. It’s not often Jesse gets to.
“Yeah, I just-- didn’t expect it to be so…” She trails off, her eyes meeting Jesse’s. Her gaze is soft, as she stares up at Petra, a small glint in her eye.
“You wanna go again?” Jesse enquires, her voice gentle, and not prodding.
Dumbfounded, Petra blinks. “Yeah, sure.” Never in a million years would she imagine agreeing to kiss someone, twice for that matter. But here she is, kissing the one person she doubted she’d ever kiss…
And with the perfect scenery, god rays, a lovely gentle breeze, and no one else around, they kiss once again, this time Petra leaning in first. Her hands are less hesitant to feel around Jesse’s body as she kisses her, eliciting small moans and sighs.
Petra never understood what was so pleasing about kissing and touching and all that sappy stuff. But now? After hearing and feeling Jesse, she finally gets it. It proves your love for someone, what you’d do for them, and how much you trust them. To be so vulnerable as to get so close…
A hand reaches to cup Jesse’s jawline as they both drawback, faces flushed, and heads spinning. Jesse steps down, grabbing Petra’s other hand and raising it to her chest. “Thanks, Petra. It means a lot to me.”
“You don’t have to flatter me.” Her voice is slightly wavering; she’s still dazed.
The shorter then gives a small peck to the back of Petra’s hand, a grin worn on her face.
“I gotta say, you’re really good at kissing,” she says, as the two make their way down the path again.
“Thanks,” Petra replies, her strides are less calculated and confident and rather more casual.
She’s been very vulnerable and open today, and Jesse would say that’s an amazing step up from a few months ago. They could just barely hold hands for longer than five seconds. And here Petra was, being the most vulnerable Jesse’s ever seen.
Ugh, she’s so sweet.
#mcsm#minecraft story mode#mcsm petra#petra mcsm#mcsm jesstra#jesstra#jesse mcsm#mcsm jesse#mcsm f!jesse#female jesse#mcsm female jesse#mcsm fanfic
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You know what would be fun to read? Adam suffering from post partum depression after giving birth to his and Luci’s baby.
Maybe even Lucifer comforting him.
Adam sat in the rocking chair in Avery's nursery, his little girl finally sound asleep.
His face in his hands, Adam cried quietly his shoulders shaking he was crying so hard. He didn't know what was wrong with him, he should be happy that he finally has his little girl but it's been rough going.
He's just so down all the time and anytime Avery cries his anxiety sky rockets into the universe. She's only three days old and he feels so overwhelmed.
What was wrong with him? He's had so many kids with Eve why would he be like this now?
Lucifer poked his head in, he slowly walked over and gently placed his hand on Adams shoulder.
Lucifer: Dove? What's wrong?
Adam sniffs and hiccups, his face streaked with tears: I-I-I don't know what's wrong.
Lucifer rubbed his back, Bel warned him that there was a chance Adam could get the baby blues and it seemed to be true. He placed a kiss on Adams forehead.
Lucifer: It'll be okay my love, I'm here for you.
Adam gave him a wobbly smile and hugged him. He was so glad he had him as a husband.
#adamsapple#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer x adam#guitarduck#baby blues#implied mpreg#ask
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Breaking my silence for 1 (one) moment to say that I am in awe that a law student doing shady labor practices would have the shady company they're running sign contracts out of California of all places. California labor laws are some of the tightest in the country, and that's the place you'll get sued in if people want to bring suit. Like, for the love of god at least put your shady labor exploitation business in a place where there are no laws. Idaho is right there! Or Delaware! Why would you pick California????
#sif speaks#this is my only post on all of this I'm just shaking my head#qsmp#quackity#discourse#also I know that labor laws for the place the workers actually live will be what generally applies#which also leaves me in awe that he would hire people in the eu at all under those circumstances#but cali is where the company they signed ndas with is registered#and that leaves cali as a veune for suing that's particularly attractive given that the courts tend to favor labor
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Struggled with today's art but I have to draw Scar Daily or I implode basically- also Ren for @pup-pee because I have to practice drawing him and Martyn after all-
Also I think Non-dog hybrid Ren is cursed but like it's what we're working with here we're balling-
#WAaDW AU :>#fanart#scarian#desert duo#hermitshipping#trafficshipping#rendog#renthedog#<- I don't even feel like I should be using this tag cause he isn't a dog at this point LIKE SKVNDFd#also implied Treebark but you wouldn't know unless I explicitly said it from the images alone so yeah#something something Ren's Red Glasses are actually prescription because I refuse to draw that man without them#trafficblr#traffic smp#traffic series#traffic life#life series#life smp#life series smp#Madi's art :>#I have so much info on this AU guys it's not even funny but I won't start writing it til next year CAUSE I HAVE SOMETHING I NEED TO EDIT AN#POST BEFORE I START TRYING TO WRITE A MULTI-CHAPTER STORY THANKS#I'm shaking my AU so fast and the only people that know shit about it are Ru and Jay and I'm soooooo I wanna spill everything BUT CAN'T AAA#my curse as an artist is to draw the scenes in my head that I have planned for my story and just DIE IG#Maybe if I actually like write the chapter the first two doodles is from I'll clean up that drawing okay okay okay#OKAY I'M GONNA STOP RAMBLING NOW BECAUSE AT THIS POINT I'LL JUST SPILL ALL MY SECRETS AAAAAAAAAAAAA#AH SHIT I FORGOT THE OTHER TAGS#goodtimeswithscar#grian#gtws fanart#grian fanart
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how do y'all write short and sweet ask responses. how do y'all not go insane and write multiple paragraphs setting a scene. how bc i'm holding my head in my hands rn
#but i'm also kicking my feet asdfg i'm not mad at myself honestly#i like the way i set scenes and i hope my partners enjoy it <3#i'm just shaking my head at myself bc i'll go in telling myself that i'm only gonna write two paragraphs!! and i'll then write four asdfg#i can do it sometimes but i think these mistletoe kisses are gonna all end up being multipara somehow :' )#anywayyyy i need to take my contacts out bc i forgot earlier and then i'm gonna see what drafts i can finish too#the goal is having a queue for tomorrow! so like five posts maybe!! we'll see!!#get ready to ramble | ooc
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#another major downside of going through artblock for so long is that you accumulate a massive backlog#of things you wanna draw that it becomes genuinely overwhelming lol#and it's difficult not to like freak out that you won't have enough time to get around to it all#even though that would be completely ok like i'm not required to draw every idea i have and if i even only draw one of those things#thats already a win considering how little i drew these past two years#it's just hard to shake of the feeling of needing to make up for that? but that's not necessary idk why i feel pressured like that#i have a lot of weird expectations and perfectionism towards my art that made engaging with this hobby extremely difficult#honestly the reason why i made the artblog is to just deliberately dump unfinished and “bad” art on there#so i can hopefully get over my unproductive expectations and just focus on having fun with art again#i can already kinda feel it working bc when i think of drawing now my problem is not knowing where to start bc there is so much i wanna make#instead of like this dread that it won't be good enough#and that once i pick up my pen and get started i'll just spiral into having an existential crisis again lol#i moved from 'if i can't draw well i'm not worth anything as like a person :(' to#'i have a billion fanart and oc ideas and if I cant draw them all at once i will explode So instead i'm just gonna sit here and do fuck all'#that's progress in my book!!!!!#i'll go check if i have any more old sketches to post and then i'll just work on whatever i feel like rn#i keep overthinking this shit. i need to go with the flow and just draw. I don't need perfectly polished finished pieces#I'm just gonna work on stuff until i get bored with it and then that's the 'finished' piece no matter what it looks like idc!!!#that may seem counterproductive and perhaps a bit lazy? but that's gonna be my mentality going forward#bc i think ironically that's gonna be more productive for me all things considered#sry for the ramble ever since seeing that one post about old vs new art comparisons and polished/clean artstyles#that are uninteresting to look at i've been doing a lot of thinking and reconsidering what i'm doing with my art#many thoughts head full. just needed to get it out of my system
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— 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓;
☾ Content: popstar f!reader much more famous than your pro volleyball player boyfriend- you finally hard launch your relationship on instagram but the public reaction isn't what you expect, so you take matters into your own hands
ft. Ushijima Wakatoshi, Hinata Shouyou, Miya Atsumu, Bokuto Koutarou, Kageyama Tobio
☾ A/N: inspired by dua lipa and callum turner and my girl sabrina
— 𝐔𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐚 𝐖𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢;
Ushijima doesn't even have an instagram, naturally. the closest thing is he's got is his team's account, curated and managed by the PR team. so when you wiggle your phone in front of him to show him the chosen piece for your account, he just gives it a cursory glance and nods. the photo is from backstage at one of your concerts earlier this month: you, glowing with joy, arm slung casually around his neck, leaning into him as you beam up at him with a smile that could light up your stadiums. he's got one arm wrapped securely around your waist, usual stoic expression softened by a warmth in his eyes as he gazes down at you- one that only you seem to be able to draw out of him.
but the reactions to your post are swift and crushing. you're beyond proud of Ushijima- proud of his quiet strength, his dedication, his raw talent. you know you shouldn’t and it shouldn’t—doesn’t—matter, but your thumb keeps scrolling through the comments. each one feels like a knife twisting deeper, a personal attack, particularly the ones suggesting he doesn't care, that he looks like he's got the emotional depth of a spoon, that this is all just a PR move somehow. watching the sweetest man you know not get the recognition he truly deserves hurts more than you want to admit.
ᯓ🏐
when Ushijima steps into your shared bedroom, shirtless, his hair still damp from a post-workout shower and sweatpants slung low on his hips, his gaze finds you sitting at your vanity. the soft light of the mirror highlights your delicate features, casting a warm glow over your pretty face.
"toshi," you greet him warmly, turning toward him with an inviting smile. he pads over to you, barefoot, and you tilt your chin up expectantly. he rests one hand on the back of your chair, the other on the edge of your desk and leans down, capturing your lips in a long, slow kiss, his head tilting to deepen it as he lifts a hand to your cheek, gently smoothing his thumb across your soft skin before drawing back, a small smile curving up on his lips when he sees the dazed look in your eyes.
"morning, love." he says simply, before walking off to the kitchen to make himself a protein shake. completely oblivious to the phone propped up against your mirror, the livestream on the screen, and the chaos that you've just unleashed within your fanbase.
readerfanatic_official joined popicon4life just fell to my knees screaming in the 711 parking lot platinum_readerstan she's dating a TREE tinyreader777 'morning love'???...our queen is built different i would've evaporated on the spot bipbop_23 ...i get it now readerfan2024 guess i'm into volleyball now glitznglamfan girl i'm scared for ur holes
— 𝐇𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐲𝐨𝐮;
it's a cute photo: the two of you on a beach at a resort, there for one of Oikawa's games. Hinata's got his head in your lap, one of your hands gently running through his messy orange hair while your other hand rests on his chest. you're gazing out at the sea, a serene smile gracing your face as you enjoy the view, while Hinata looks up at you, equally captivated by what he sees.
the comments that flood in are anything but kind. most of them poke fun at his height, with fans wondering how he managed to catch your eye when he's fighting gravity every day, others insisting that he must just be very funny. and it doesn’t bother Hinata at all, not that you can tell- he just scratches the back of his head and laughs, exclaiming that it's nothing he hasn't heard before, that he’ll just have to work twice as hard to earn your fans’ approval. ignoring your protests that he has nothing to prove.
ᯓ🏐
a few eagle-eyed fans are the first ones to notice it and not long after, screenshots of your activity start to circulate. first it's you liking an edit of Hinata lifting his shirt during ones of his games to wipe sweat off his brow. then it's a clip of him leaping into the air, showing off his energy and athleticism. a third like is a snapshot of Hinata celebrating a victory, fists clenched and knees bent, muscles in his thighs flexed as he roars with triumph.
the one that nips it in the bud is when you share a post to your story. it’s a reel- a compilation of Hinata’s spikes, his raw energy and unstoppable power lighting up the court as he slams the ball past his opponents. your fans lose it when you post a mirror selfie on the same day: you've got your back turned toward the mirror, all dolled up for an award ceremony in a gown that leaves nothing and everything to the imagination. you look good, accentuated by the man at your side who, unlike you, is facing the mirror. but Hinata isn't looking at the camera- his heated gaze is on your reflection instead. one of his arms is curved loosely around your waist, hand resting just above your ass.
the internet goes wild.
mvpmichelle8 2h 385 likes our girl is thirsting publicly on main i respect it robsessed247 2h 306 likes rip to her ass cheeks keanue_433 2h 243 likes ...what team does he play for again stanacctreader 1h 178 likes she got herself a short KING FR newvolley_98 1h 85 likes so when’s the next game where you get a front-row seat to his… spikes? 🥵
— 𝐌𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐀𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮;
you don’t exactly share the photo yourself, but it might as well be yours. when Vogue posts the cover shot and tags you, it goes viral almost instantly. because Atsumu is seated in a luxurious chair, looking every bit like a king in his perfectly tailored suit, legs spread confidently, an air of dominance about him. you're perched on the armrest beside him, the slit of your black dress exposing the smooth curves of your body. one of your hands is loosely intertwined with his, resting on your thigh. the chemistry is palpable, electric. the sultry confidence in your posture paired with the intensity in Atsumu's gaze makes it impossible to look away. paired with the article about your relationship, this is a power couple at its finest.
or at least so you think.
the opinions of your fans are mixed, but those who disapprove don't hold back. they say that he must be cheating on you, that he looks untrustworthy, that his self-assured interview quotes only highlight how self-absorbed he is, implying he’s too consumed with himself to ever treat you right. Atsumu's ready to fight everyone questioning his devotion to you before you remind him that he can’t spend all day replying to hate comments- he has practice, and that you’ll handle it.
ᯓ🏐
you show up to the world championship that month with your entourage in tow. you visit Atsumu in his locker room to wish him good luck, ignoring the way his teammates trip over themselves gaping at you. he almost doesn’t let you leave, seizing you in a deep kiss that leaves you a little unsteady on your feet, but you plan a firm hand on his chest because you have places to be, a job to do.
when Atsumu steps up to serve and you watch as his routine unfolds, the familiar movements flowing effortlessly, your PR team is at the ready. his signature has evolved since his early days, the fist still a familiar gesture, but now his index finger uncurls at the last moment, pointing into the crowd. he doesn’t need to look; he always knows exactly where you are. but today, it’s different. you’re not in the shadows, hiding behind sunglasses or a baseball cap. today, you’re wearing his jersey, sitting front and center, in the best seat in the house. you’re clapping louder than anyone else, beaming so hard your cheeks hurt.
this time, when he finds you in the crowd, the whole world is watching.
Us Weekly: Atsumu Miya Makes History with Serve: Fans Go Wild over Major 'Couple Goals' Moment at the World Championship Buzzfeed: Is He Pointing to Y/N? 10 Moments Atsumu Miya Was Literally Screaming 'I Love You' Sports Illustrated: Atsumu Miya’s Serve Gets Personal: The Unspoken Gesture You Didn’t Know Was for Y/N Kyodo News: Fans Flock to See Miya Atsumu's Relationship with Global Sensation Y/N in Full View Cosmopolitan: Y/N and Atsumu Miya: From Music Charts to Volleyball Courts—Their Love Story (Exclusive)
— 𝐁𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐊𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮;
what you think is a beautiful moment, your fans interpret quite differently. in the photo you post, Bokuto's strong arms are wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him as he hugs you from behind. his hands are positioned low on your abdomen, fingers spread wide and pressing down lightly, a playful gesture that has you squirming in response. the candid shot your manager took captures you in mid-laugh. you're tilting away from him, hands gripping his wrists, body twisted in a half-escape as though you're trying to dodge his ticklish touch. Bokuto's lips are pressed softly to the side of your neck, the curve of your shoulder partly obscuring his face. his expression is partially hidden, but the corner of his mischievous grin peeks out, his eyes glinting at the camera as he looks up right at that moment.
your fans tear him apart, their words dripping with criticism- accusing him of being too touchy, claiming that you don’t want him like that, that he's too obsessed, too forward. the comments flood in, one after another, each one more biting than the last. the relentless stream of negativity cuts deep, and you can see the toll it takes on Bokuto as he scrolls on his phone with a downtrodden look. you tell him to ignore it, that he has nothing to worry about, but you can tell it does little to lift his spirits.
ᯓ🏐
you show him that night just how deeply you care about him, straddling his lap and gently cupping his face in your hands. your lips meet his in a soft, reverent kiss, a silent exchange that you hope conveys volumes. you murmur against his mouth, telling him how perfect he is, watching with a quiet smile as the tips of his ears go red. but then he shifts, flipping you over on the bed, caging you in with thick arms all while still blushing so prettily. and when you feel something hard and big pressing against your inner thigh, you wonder what you've gotten yourself into.
Bokuto goes even redder the next day when he wakes up to incessant texting from his teammates and he opens social media to find a photo on your feed: it's of him shirtless, lying on his front and cradling a pillow with his cheek smooshed into it, his hair down and expression peaceful. what's not so peaceful is the view of his bare back- red streaks running down his tanned skin, unmistakably from your fingers. the white sheets thrown over his legs obscure anything from the waist down but his face flushes deeper as he takes in the rest of the intimate scene.
you've got one hand resting gently on his head, fingers woven loosely in his hair, thumb caressing his cheek mid-stroke. it's soft, casual, possessive.
fan_gurl_4 1h 403 likes the way we thought HE was the obsessed one...how the turn tables bobfriend_76 1h 386 likes she's marking her territory glamjam69 1h 207 likes ...this ain't demure or mindful at all menin4k22 45m 146 likes ma’am for science, p-please remove those sheets readerfan234 14m 121 likes the way she's touching him...i need a moment to grieve 😩
— 𝐊𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐨;
the release party for your new album goes off without a hitch, and you score tons of cute photos with Kageyama, cuddling up to him that night to scroll through and select the best ones. your top choice is one of the more simple shots: you, with one hand resting on his chest, leaning into the arm he’s wrapped around your waist. his long fingers were hot against your skin through the delicate fabric of your dress, and you swear you can still feel the imprints of them. he's serious in the shot, his lips set in a stern line as he gazes into the camera, but you adore that look on him. especially when that same gaze shifts to you, hinting at something deeper, something darker, waiting for later.
your fans, however, don't see what you do. so you wake up to a barrage of comments, about how he looks boring, how he probably doesn't know a single one of your lyrics, how you could do so much better. naturally, Kageyama doesn't give a single shit as to what your fans think about him. just kisses you goodbye and heads off to practice, duffel bag slung over his broad shoulder. but you care.
ᯓ🏐
it takes a fair amount of convincing and a hefty dose of bribery, which somehow includes you securing an advertisement contract with one of Kageyama's favorite yogurt brands, but he finally agrees to appear in the music video for your latest hit. though, you can't help but think it had more to do with you casually hinting that your company had intended on pulling in one of the hottest actors currently on the scene, known for making girls swoon at meet-and-greets.
he plays a cop arresting you for a string of crimes you commit in the name of revenge on your cheating ex, culminating in him pushing you down in the backseat of his patrol car. it's hot, steamy, and when he shoves his knee between your legs, leaning over you with one hand pinning your wrists above your head, you won't deny that you make a mental note to recreate this scene later, without the cameras.
the music video shatters records and skyrockets to the top of the charts.
and the comments this time? well. they speak for themselves.
bops234 • 1 day ago this awakened something in me fando23 • 12 hours ago i'm going to need this man's @ immediately barkbarkbark_89 • 12 hours ago are we sure he doesn't want to switch career paths stanacctreader • 10 hours ago i thought he was just a plain slice of milk bread but boy was i wrong freedomsings145 1h • 5 hours ago casting your real life boyfriend as the main romantic lead in your music video is such a power move, as always our queen's taste is IMPECCABLE atsumumiya • 2 hours ago he looks like a foot
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#ushijima wakatoshi x reader#hinata shouyou x reader#kageyama tobio x reader#miya atsumu x reader#bokuto koutarou x reader#☾.writes#☾.haikyuu#haikyu x reader#shoyo x you#ushijima x you#atsumu x you#bokuto x you
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The Eyes of Death.
This story is mostly inspired by Jaybirbie's prompt | Master post | Next?
"Hey, sweetheart?" Danny called, quickly jotting down the last sentence for his paper. He'd have to remember to go back and reread it and make sure he didn't trail off into another tangent. He swears he wasn't this bad at managing his ADHD back in Amity...
"Yes, Danny?" Damian asked, turning back from the door to face him as he scrolled further down the story he was reading. The familiar font of Gotham City's gazette blurred as a picture of Mr. Freeze and Penguin finally loaded. So that's what was going on. Danny should have known; the bats already dealt with the other usual rouges, and these two were next on the list.
"Can you walk with me? I just know Nancy and her boyfriend are out there, waiting. I really don't want to deal with them again... We could spend more time at my place? Tucker sent me another movie, and I'm unsure if I should watch it alone after last time." Danny pleaded, quickly shoving all of his papers into his bag. He'd deal with straightening them out later, it wasn't like his professors weren't used to his wrinkled essays at this point.
However, he should probably redo the blueprints for Workshop. Mr. Anthlow was a hardass, but nothing could compare to his anger when a student handed in wrinkled blueprints; he claimed he wasn't going to have another 'Tanner' incident on his watch, whatever the heck that meant.
He was not looking forward to whatever Nancy wanted to talk to him about, she looked excited. Which could only mean bad things for him; considering the last time she was excited, he ended up spending time with Bane of all people. And there was no way her boyfriend was just going to let Danny get away again.
Damian grimaces, finally looking up and away from his phone. "I'm sorry beloved..." he held up the device just in time to show an incoming text from his Father, "I promised Father I'd be home a while ago. And with what's happening down on-"
"It's ok, I'll just head out the back door," Danny cut in, seeing the start of guilt on his boyfriend's face. He knew how much Danny hated having to deal with those two, and the fact Damian hasn't been able to even introduce himself to them hasn't helped. With a smile, Danny scooped up his textbooks and made his way to stand in front of Damian, "They can't bother me if they don't see me!"
Unsurprisingly, Danny could feel the guilt grow and start to float around Damian as the boy glanced at his phone, the message tone sounding out again in warning.
Danny only met Damian's father once; it was just a simple shake of hands and sharing names before the man ran off, but it did leave an impression. The man felt tired and paranoid; like, to the point Danny kind of wanted to drag Jazz over and lock the two of them in a room, paranoid. (Danny wants to say he's never seen someone that paranoid, but he'd be lying. He looks in the mirror after all.)
The point is; Danny's only met the man once, but that was enough for him to know that the man would tear down the world if he thought for even a second that one of his kids was in danger. This meant, that if Damian didn't go and reassure his father that he was alive and safe within the next sixty or so seconds, then there was a possibility that there wouldn't be another date for at least another week.
And considering this "study date" was supposed to make up for the last one Damian had missed because of his Father? Yeah, Danny wasn't going to be happy if Damian got grounded or dragged into another 'surprise' family road trip because his father was convinced his children would be dead before the 'yearly' planned get-together in November.
They had a trip to the zoo planned for tomorrow, and Delilah was supposed to be allowed out with her kids. This would be Delilah's first public outing since her kids' birth. There's no way Danny was going to allow Damian to miss that. (he swears to the ancients, if there was a rouge attack he was going to kill someone, Dark Dan's future be damned.)
Lifting his heels off the ground so he could stand on his tiptoes, Danny snagged Damian's arm and pulled him down so he could kiss his cheek. "I'll get home safe, just focus on keeping your dad from going insane. We've got a date at the zoo tomorrow and we're not missing it even if your father becomes the next city rogue."
Damian wrapped his arms around Danny, trapping him in a hug as he sighed in fond frustration. "I promise I won't miss it, ok? I'll be there."
Danny rolled his eyes and pushed Damian back, dropping back to stand on the ground, "You better, 'cause hell hath no fury like a gorilla denied the chance to meet her human best friend's boyfriend."
Damian snorted, before looking away and pretending to cough. Danny moved his textbooks to rest more securely in one of his arms, so he could point at his boyfriend. "I'm not kidding, if I show up tomorrow and tell her all about my life and you're not there, she will break out and track you down. I won't stop her either, you'd deserve whatever she does to you."
"Alright, alright. I get it, and I already promised I'd be there didn't I?" Damian chuckled, raising his hands up in surrender. Which would have been cute if it wasn't for the fact that his phone went off again, this time in an insistent buzzing. His eldest brother's ringtone; which meant Damian was going to be busy for a while.
Cursing, Damian turned and answered, "I'm in the middle of something, this better be important Grayson," glancing back at Danny, he mouthed for him to wait a moment as his brother started talking.
Smiling, Danny shook his head, snatched Damian's jacket, and started making his way out the door. There was no way Damian would finish this phone call any time soon. Danny's learned not to wait after the last four times this happened. Damian turned back with betrayed eyes, but the urgent voice of his brother buzzing even louder held him back. Waving goodbye with a smile, Danny shut the door and started making his way down the hall.
He'd have to ask Damian what happened tomorrow, Grayson didn't usually call him, especially when he knew Damian was spending time with Danny. He said it had something to do with how it was sacrilege to interrupt time spent with a significant other. Danny had wanted to ask him more about it but hadn't gotten the chance when The Riddler crashed their spontaneous meeting.
Speaking of The Riddler, Danny's social science paper wasn't looking too hot right now. He'd have to block out a time for him to work on that at some point this week. He wasn't doing anything on Friday, well, besides his early morning classes. That should work...
"Hey, Danny!" someone called, pulling him out of his musing. Glancing up, Danny internally groaned when he noticed Nancy waving at him in sheer delight. Giving her a half-hearted wave, Danny sped up and continued making his way to the back of the library. If he was quick enough maybe he could-
To his dismay, Nancy's boyfriend stepped out from behind one of the shelves and latched onto his arm. Tightly.
Just great, this is exactly what he wanted to avoid. Curse his inability to pay attention when he got lost in thought. Damn ADHD. Blasted non-existent spatial awareness. This was what he got for relying on his ghost sense, he just knows it.
"She said hi, kind of rude of you to just keep walking, Kid." Wyatt huffed, roughly dragging Danny back and towards his girlfriend. Nancy smiled brightly as Wyatt let him go, allowing Nancy to weave her arm with Danny's and practically drag him toward the front of the building.
"There's this big party going on tonight, some Jr invited us. He said it was going to be a night to remember! You should totally come with us, Danny! My friend Shela said she was bringing her nerdy freshmen too! I just know you'd fit right in with them!" Nancy squealed excitedly, shaking Danny as they finally made it to the front doors.
One of the desk attendants rolled their eyes at them as Danny glanced over, hoping that Barbara might intervene. No such luck, she was nowhere in sight, probably off somewhere shelving books. So much for that plan.
"uh, thanks, but I already-" Danny tried, stopping when Nancy scoffed and yanked him out the door and into the frosty night. "Damn, it's cold!" Wyatt cursed, taking his jacket off and quickly handing it over to Nancy. She let go of Danny and pulled it on, then stared at Danny for a moment, "Put your coat on Danny, no way in hell am I letting my kid catch a cold!"
Rolling his eyes, Danny wrapped Damian's coat over his shoulders. He was too lazy to actually put it on, not when that meant handing his textbooks over. The last time he did that, Nancy got bored and started doodling all over them. (how she had managed to do that in the little time it took to put a hoodie on, Danny wasn't sure.)
"I just want to go home, Nancy. I'm not really a party person." Danny sighed, allowing Nancy to drag him down the dark streets. His apartment was in this general direction anyway. Nancy turned to her boyfriend with a huff, "Wyatt! make him come with us!"
"Let the nerd do what he wants, it's not like it affects us if he kicks the bucket all alone," Wyatt grumbled, rolling his eyes.
Ouch, but true. Please listen to your grumpy boyfriend, please listen to your grumpy boyfriend, please listen-
"But Shela said she was bringing Carly!" Nancy turned back to Danny, a pout clear on her face, "You two would be so cute together! she's nerdy just like you! And she's totally into all those murder mystery shows you watch!"
Damn it. Not this crap again.
"That's nice, Nancy, but I'm not interested. I already told you guys, I have a boyfriend," Danny sighed, trying to gently extract his arm from hers; for a human, Nancy sure had one heck of a grip.
"Yeah, right," Wyatt snorted, patting Danny's back, completely ignoring the fact that Danny was literally wearing someone else's jacket. "We'll believe you when you introduce us, until then. You're a virgin loser."
And there we go, people; the reason Danny wanted to crawl into the sewer and die whenever he saw these two. They were nice, don't get him wrong, but they were also stubborn idiots.
"Being a virgin has nothing to do with my relationship status, Wyatt. I'm ace. you've known this since the first time we talked." Danny grumbled, allowing Nancy to drag him down another street. He wasn't sure exactly where they were going now, but he was too tired to care at this point.
If these self-claimed 'Parents' of his wanted to drag him to this stupid party, then fine. Whatever. It's not like Danny had any other plans tonight anyway.
"Asexuality isn't a thing man," Wyatt huffed, speeding up so he could guide them in the right direction now that they were heading into a rougher patch of buildings. Danny could see the man was shivering, though trying to act tough in front of Nancy. Smirking, Danny sent a cold breeze his way. The man scowled up at the sky, cursing quietly.
"Yeah!" Nancy agreed, smiling brightly down at Danny without a care in the world. Like they didn't have this conversation every other week. "You just haven't met the right person yet, Danny! And I know how awkward it is to admit that you're staying celibate until marriage, but you don't have to hide it behind being ace."
Taking a deep breath, Danny closed his eyes and focused on not shouting out of frustration. The celibate comment was new, the acephobia, not so much. "Ok, first of all; Asexuality is a thing, which many people ARE. Literally, 1% of the world is ace. That's over 70 million people. Second of all, I'm not celibate, and I'm not sure if you even know what that means, considering you know I was raised Atheist."
"What does being an Atheist have to do with celibacy?" Nancy asked, tilting her head to look at him. Danny groaned, smacking his forehead against his textbooks. He was NOT going to explain this to them tonight.
"You know what, Nancy? It doesn't matter." Danny huffed, trying again to gently pry her hands off. He wanted to go home. He wanted to cuddle with his boyfriend. He wanted to go back to Amity. Maybe go to the realms and play with Cujo. He did NOT want to deal with these idiots.
Wyatt stopped walking and turned to face them, rolling his eyes as Nancy pouted at Danny. "Come on babe, let the loser go. He obviously doesn't appreciate your efforts."
"but who else is going to convince him to live a little? He's just going to go back to his apartment and sulk by himself!" Nancy cried, tightening her grip again.
"Who cares what the kid does, Nancy? let the dude die a virgin loser. Now let's go, we're already late as is."
"But I really want him to-," Nancy tried, cutting herself off, as both she and Danny spotted a cloaked person appear out of the shadows behind Wyatt.
Wyatt lifted his brow before slowly turning to see what the two of them were staring at. The cloaked figure suddenly whacked him over the head with a metal pole before he could fully turn around. Wyatt's body dropped to the ground with a heavy thump, making Nancy scream, "Wyatt!"
Shit, Danny stepped back, trying to pull Nancy with him as the cloak dude tossed the metal pole to the side with a loud clank. Which was confusing, why would he through away his weapon?
"Shut her up!" the cloak dude cried, bending down to grab Wyatt's arms. He better not be telling Danny to do that, because that would just be stupid and- Suddenly, a dozen more cloaked people flooded out of the darkness and surrounded them. That answered Danny's questions at least.
Danny tensed up as a couple of the people tried to grab onto him. Quickly pulling Nancy back, successfully this time, Danny glanced around to try and find an exit. He couldn't do anything crazy right now, not unless he wanted to give away his secret, but some self-defense should be fine.
Nancy suddenly let go of his arm and smacked one of the cloaked people in the face, "Don't you fucking dare touch me! Wyatt! Kid, get out of here!"
Danny turned to her in alarm, eyes wide in horror as she quickly disappeared into the cloaked crowd. Another cloaked person managed to latch onto Danny's shoulder, reminding him to focus on his situation. Quickly stepping back, he slammed into the man grabbing him, knocking his grip loose. Ducking under another attempt, Danny swung out his leg and tripped the dude into two others.
Twisting to try and make his way over to where he figured Nancy was, Danny dropped his textbooks and punched someone in the face. Damian's jacket was yanked off his shoulders, making him turn with a growl. Punching another person in the face, Danny lunged at the group.
"Hurry! before the bats find us!" the supposed leader cried, making even more cloaked people surround Danny. There was no way a normal civilian would be able to fight their way out of this, so Danny would have to allow himself to be caught soon. Only after biting and scratching the fuck out of them though. Just because he had to let them catch him, doesn't mean he has to make it easy.
~30 min later
Danny stared at the leader as the man droned on and on about needing the right sacrifice for the ritual to work. Nancy and Wyatt grumbled behind him, agreements from the other kidnapped victims filling Danny's ears like bees.
"The sacrifice shall be the one who treads the veil between life and death, the one who's beloved by the spirits as their own! He shall be pale as a corpse, his body kissed by death many times throughout his life. His hair as black as the sky on a moonless night, cradled by the moon since birth." Mr. totally-read-one-fake-ritual-book-when-he-was-a-teen-and-now-has-to-make-it-everyone's-problem droned on dramatically, reverently dragging his finger down the old dusty tome's page,
"so Mr. Wayne?" Nancy huffed, pressing her back into Danny's side. Wyatt chuckled, shoving his foot into Danny's knee, "No, it's totally Mr. Drake he's talking about. Have you seen that dude's eyebags? they make him look like a ghost."
One of the strangers leaned over, rolling their eyes, "No, it's got to be Mr. Dent. The dude's literally half living half not."
"No, Two-Face is half insane, half burnt chicken. Ain't nothing about him going to please ghosts. He was a fucking lawyer, for Christ shake." another guy added.
"the dude said 'he' which crossed out half of y'all," Danny added, glancing at the group around him. The women blinked and then rolled their eyes; only in Gotham would they get kidnapped and not actually be needed.
"Assholes," Nancy huffed, she glanced over her shoulder and down at him, her face set into a frown, "You good, kid? you're like freezing cold."
"I'm fine," Danny huffed, focusing back on the leader. He could just feel the old magic rolling off the book; this was something dangerous, especially in this dipshit's hands. Ancients, he was going to have to do everything he could to keep the man from actually doing the ritual or mess it up if the bats didn't get here in time.
One of the cloaked people suddenly dragged a camera out from a side room, grumbling about networks and livestreams being shit. Huh, well that would definitely help provide their location to the bats. They must be really inexperienced cultists then...
"The sacrifice shall fall into our hands by fate's design. The sacrifice is here and waiting for what his whole life was meant for. Now-"
"Elder!" one of the other cloaked figures cried, waving their phone in the air in excitement. Dread quickly filled Danny's stomach.
"All the bats and birds are busy dealing with those scoundrels they call rouges! If we hurry, we can complete the ritual before they can interfere!"
"Perfect!" Mr. 'Elder', cheered, slamming the tome closed and handing it off to one of the others. "So?" Mr. Elder started, turning to face them with a sharp grin, "Who's it going to be?"
Danny glanced at the group behind him, all of them having gone silent as the cloaked group started pulling out their ritual things, one of which was a very blood-stained knife.
Mr. Elder started circling them, humming and hawing as he studied each one of them. He stopped next to Wyatt, studying him intently.
Quickly weighing his options, Danny straightened up and glared at the man, "I'll be your sacrifice."
Immediately Nancy leaned away from him with a gasp, Wyatt's foot dropping to the floor with a thud. "Danny, no!" Nancy hissed, turning her body so she could face him. Danny didn't glance at her, just continued glaring at the cultist. The cult leader laughed, "Well then. So it shall be! You heard the sacrifice, tie him to the chair!"
With everyone watching, all Danny could do was tense as four of the followers walked over and pulled him up. "No!" Nancy shouted, leaning over and grabbing onto him. Wyatt reached out to Nancy, wanting to pull her back. The men tensed up, ready to interfere. Quickly pulling back, Danny frowned at Nancy and Wyatt, "I'll be ok, just don't do anything stupid!"
They harshly pulled him up and away again, before Nancy could reply. And because he was already pissed off, he made it as difficult for them as possible as they dragged him to the wooden chair. The camera person focused the lens on them, recording it as they shoved him down to sit and wrapped a bloody rope around his limbs.
So much for thinking they were inexperienced... They've done this before, he knows now. How many times? He wasn't sure, but if he had any say in it after tonight, they'd never do it again.
Once he was securely tied to the chair and gagged, because Danny couldn't help himself but insult them, the cultist started preparing the ritual. Why they hadn't done so beforehand, Danny wasn't sure; that is until one of them sliced a deep gash into his right arm and collected his blood into a bowl.
With a grimace, Danny watched as they mixed his blood with black paint and started drawing a circle around him. The camera dude stepped closer and practically shoved the camera into his face. leaning back, Danny glanced between the camera and the people drawing with his blood.
Suddenly, his arm tingled with ectoplasm, making him panic for a second. he can't heal the wound! not with all the people around him and being recorded! Shit, what had Vlad done last time?? Uh, right! core smothering. He could just smother his core to stop his body from healing. Man, acting like a civilian was a pain in the ass.
Glaring up at the camera now that he wasn't as panicked, Danny watched as the dude stepped back, pulled out a paper, and started reading out loud. "GOTHAM! tonight you shall join us as we summon the most powerful being in the world!"
Did he seriously need the paper just to remember that?
The leader stepped forward when the circle was complete, "Now!" His voice echoed around the silent warehouse, startling the other kidnapped victims. The cameraman turned and focused on him, stepping out of the circle altogether. Danny watched the kidnapped people out of the corner of his eye, wanting to make sure they weren't hurt during this whole fiasco.
"Let us begin!" the leader cheered, suddenly gripping Danny's shoulders tightly. "Join me as we summon our lord and savior! The great tyrant of the dead! The embodiment of war and bloodshed! The one named PARIAH DARK! THE HORRIFIC GHOST KING!!!!"
Immediately, Danny was both completely terrified and amused. He had been worried that they were going to try and summon some great evil demon, not the fucking old tyrant. He could fight Pariah any day of the week.
No, what terrified him was the fact that because Danny won the right to the crown by defeating Pariah the first time, he had no idea what this summoning was going to do. Was it going to work like they wanted and summon Pariah? cool, great even. He can deal with that, might have to reveal his ghost powers if the fight got dirty, but nothing too bad.
or was it going to summon him because he was the king, and if so? how? Would that even work considering he's the sacrifice? would he just disappear and reappear? This could lead to a lot of questions Danny was NOT ready to answer. Gaslighting everyone here into believing he could fight Pariah as a 'meta' human would be easy, convincing everyone that he's not the ghost king or a ghost AFTER getting summoned; not so easy.
The leader released Danny from his grip as he walked over and snatched the tome from one of his followers. Snapping the book open, the man started chanting without warning, pointing at random people to notify them when it was their turn to start.
It was like watching a school play; all the student's doing as they were taught as their teacher directed from the side. Cultist A slammed the bowl of leftover blood on the ground, splattering the black remnants all over Danny and the circle. Which was gross, Danny was going to have to burn this shirt, because there was no way he was going to get this stain out. Cultist B tossed salt at Danny a few minutes later, smacking him in the face with the small white crystals. Shaking his head, Danny glared at him. Cultist B threw the salt again.
The leader's smile grew as he continued chanting.
Seven other cultists joined in the chanting, waving their hands up and down as their voices echoed around them. Danny glanced nervously around the warehouse, hoping he'd spot one of the bats. This was being broadcast, they should be on their way at the very least.
After another minute of looking, Danny glanced back at the other kidnapped victims. Nancy was balling her eyes out, burying herself into her boyfriend's chest. Wyatt was staring at him with wide eyes, clearly unsure about what to do. Probably feeling guilty because they both knew the leader was going to choose him. A few others were looking away, clearly fearing for his life. The rest watched on, trying to show him through their actions that they were there with him till the end. (whether he 'died' or not)
It was weird, but Danny had to give it to them; Gothmites were badass. He doubted anyone in Amity besides his friends would have been brave enough to watch what was happening. Even if they didn't know if he would live or not.
His core crackled, making him choke a little as he finally felt the pull of the summoning. Well, that's just great. Shaking his head, Danny tried to clear his throat. The summoning was making him feel weird and he did not appreciate it.
The chanting got louder as one of the people walked up to him, holding the knife in a white-knuckled grasp. Danny eyed it wearily, glancing between it and the rafters above. Where the hell were the bats when he needed them???
The cultist kneeled before him and raised the blade, slamming it down into his chest right as the leader stopped chanting; Danny gasped, more out of surprise than pain as he stared at the knife. The dude gave him no warning that he was going to stab him. Usually, cultists slit people's throats, right? What the fuck was up with stabbing him???
His blood slowly bubbled up and around the knife, slowly staining his shirt red. Yeah, there was no way in the realms he was going to be able to save this shirt now. Man, he had liked this one too.
He could hear Nancy's sobs turn to wails as the cultist yanked out the knife and handed it to the leader, who Danny just now noticed had joined them in the circle. His blood started gushing down his chest with every beat of his heart, again he held back his core. (what does he do now??? faint? scream? how do normal people react to getting stabbed?????)
"Take this lowly sacrifice as a sign of our eternal loyalty, and grace us with your presence! Your humble servants plead that your godly ears hear our prayers! Join us in this mortal realm and bequeath us your power and name to rectify the sins of our brethren!"
Ok, first of all Danny was no where near lowly you piece of fuck-
Danny's core pulsed, sending out nauseating pain up and down his spine. Gasping, Danny leaned as far forward as he could, trying in vain to grasp at his chest without using his powers. His core crackled, striking a blinding flash through his brain. The echoes of his death crawled up his left arm, waking the old dead nerves into firing signals at his brain.
Danny couldn't help himself, he screamed as the pain grew worse and worse. His thoughts turned hazy, his body cold as his core pulsed again. His heart stuttered and then froze, his core flooding his body with freezing ecto not a moment later. Absently, he could feel the wash of ectoplasm crawl over his body, changing his body minutely. He didn't transform, but he definitely looked more ghostly than human.
All the pain disappeared a moment later, allowing Danny to slump forward, his head hanging low and blocking his face from view. His chest did not rise in ragged breaths, nor did his fingers twitch with life. His mind was still sluggish and clouded with something, making it nearly impossible to think. Squeezing his eyes shut, Danny tried to focus.
"Your Highness?" someone asked, their voice too loud as it rang in Danny's ears. His core pulsed, another flood of ectoplasm flooding his body. His eyes slid open again, allowing him to see the green glow lighting up his chest and lap as he stared down at them.
Slowly, Danny lifted his head, his bright green gaze locking with the man in front of him.
Next
#dpxdc#dcxdp#dp x dc#dc x dp#damian wayne#danny fenton#deadserious#mentioned#sam manson#tucker foley#everyone is confused#Danny is phantoms host#or so the JL and damian believe#danny accidently tricked them into thinking it#but it's such a good cover story that he's not sure if he should correct this mistake#danny phantom#part one#the eyes of death Au#tw: acephobia#it's there but not like the point of the story#it's for plot reasons#ignore how crappy i am at romance#it's not really my style#but i'm trying
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do you believe me now? | 2
in which fem!reader is feeling insecure about how inexperienced she is around spencer's friends and seeks his expertise to amend the problem
series masterlist
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, oral f receiving, (MUNCH!SPENCE RETURNS), fingering, (very) insecure reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, nipple stuff, kinda sorta implied age gap, god i'm probably forgetting things pls lmk if i missed something important a/n: i've been laboring at this bad boy every day for so long i had to immediately post once it was completed lol. there will be a part three ... maybe i already started it ..... anyway i love u guys and i hope this is a satisfactory part two!! PLS lmk if you liked it!! hearing from u makes my day :')
When Spencer dropped you off at Penelope’s apartment for your first girl’s night—the hostess had promised you, JJ, and Emily lots of gossip sans 'icky men'—you had been ecstatic. You wouldn’t stop rambling to him about how excited you were.
When he picks you up two and a half hours later, he can hardly get a word out of you.
It’s not his fault, of course—well, not really, anyway. It’s just that all the girls had wanted to talk about was sex. A topic on which you held very little expertise and had essentially nothing to contribute. Out of the four, you were the only non-FBI agent, the youngest, and undoubtedly the least experienced. It was like high school all over again, except you actually desperately wanted to impress Spencer’s friends. All in all, you weaseled your way out of sharing without giving away that you were still very much a virgin. Sure, you could have said ‘we did hand stuff two weeks ago’, but you had a feeling these women wouldn’t consider that very impressive.
But you can’t easily relay that information to Spencer—even when he immediately picks up on your sullen mood. He asks you what’s wrong as you make your way down the echoey staircase, but you hold back, muttering something along the lines of we’ll talk about it later.
Later doesn’t come on the sidewalk outside. It doesn’t come in the car, or at any point during the twenty minute drive, but you feel it rapidly approaching as you climb the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, doesn’t speak as you kick off your shoes and wander aimlessly into the living room.
“Did you eat?” He finally asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door and glancing over to where you linger in the center of the room like a ghost.
“Not hungry.”
You both know that wasn’t the question, but he lets it go.
“Alright... well, I was thinking—“
“Why haven’t we had sex?”
The question flies from your mouth before you can stop it. It tastes like metal and you wish you could take it back as you stand there, cheeks hot and awaiting a reply. It seems you’ve thoroughly astonished Spencer as he gapes at you like a fish out of water for several silent moments, eventually opting to shove his hands in his pockets and shake his head at the wall as he processes the question.
“I… I don’t know. We just haven’t. Does that bother you?”
Suddenly your whole body feels intolerably warm. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. Of course it bothers you.
“Do you just not want to? You aren’t attracted to me like that?”
God, you despise how fragile your voice sounds—how much you obviously care, how insecure you clearly are. Spencer picks up on it, despite your most fervent wishing that he wouldn’t, and approaches, stopping a few feet away. You stare at the span of oriental design on the floor between your feet.
“That’s not at all what I said, angel. I wish you wouldn’t put words in my mouth.”
“Well, then… say something else,” you plead quietly, childishly, still unable to meet his eyes. Prove me wrong.
He sighs, which does not bode well for you. You wonder if you accidentally triggered the early demise of your relationship and christ do you wish you could rewind. When he steps closer, when his hands find your arms, you’re not sure where to look. But the low, sweet tone of his voice entices you to finally meet his gaze, charmed like a snake as his eyes dart between yours.
“You know that’s not how I feel.”
You shake your head earnestly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly rubs your arms.
“No. No, I don’t know that.”
Spencer frowns, glancing at your lips as he speaks. It’s impossible to not do the same when he’s standing so close.
“But I’ve told you. I don’t understand how you couldn’t know how far from the truth that is.”
You think back to two weeks ago—the first and only time he’d ever done anything more than kiss you. A different kind of flush replaces the shameful one in your cheeks as you try to make your case and not get distracted by the memories of his hands all over you.
“So why won’t you prove it?”
It’d been intended to come out cool, but instead you sound a little desperate, a little out of breath as you realize you and Spencer somehow ended up so close to each other you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.
“Is that what you need from me? More proof?”
He speaks so lowly, his fingers press into the flesh of your arms portentously, and you think maybe you’ve poked the bear one too many times. But you won’t back down now—not when you think you might actually get what you want.
So you look up at him and nod, throat too dry to speak. His eyes are deceptively soft, but you don’t miss the big bad something lurking just beneath the surface of the placid hazel.
“And how do you think I should prove it?”
“I told you what I want,” you whisper, speaking above your pounding heart.
“Not tonight, honey. Choose something else.”
“Well—that’s not fair,” you stammer, “the whole point is for you to want to have sex with me.”
Spencer smiles a little, tucking hair behind your ear. “I do want that. I promise you I do. But there are other things I want us to do first.”
“Then I want to do that, too! I just—I don’t know what I’m doing, and you do, and I’m already out on a limb by asking for this much. I know this is what I want but I need you to take the lead here. I trust you, Spencer.” You top off the monologue with an imploring gaze—hoping it delivers even a fraction of the impact that his puppy-dog eyes always have on you.
He seems to study every square inch of your face as you wait in suspense for him to say something. At long last, his lips part—to no avail for several more seconds as he regards you.
When the words finally do come, they’re an immense relief of pressure.
“You’re going to promise me that you’ll communicate honestly. That means telling me if we need to slow down or stop, or if you don’t like something—”
“I promise,” you say, perhaps over-eagerly, offering him your extended little finger.
An incredulous smile narrows his eyes.
“Is this a pinky-promise?”
“It is.” You wiggle the finger in emphasis, and he shakes his head, smiling wider as you link pinkies.
“I left you with Garcia for far too long.”
You shush him, disentangling your hands to cup his jaw and press your lips to his. It’s sweet and smiley until it isn’t—until everything slows down like sticky molasses and his hand is ghosting over your cheek, your neck, the curve of your waist, finally substantiating itself on your hip—the other encouraging you to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss and you feel yourself melting under the heat of his touch.
The pressure of his body against yours builds until you’re forced to take a step back, and then another, and another. Without question you allow yourself to be herded toward the bedroom, walked slowly backward as he keeps kissing you and blindly trusting he’ll make sure you don’t run in to anything. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him, and it is in all practicality a pointless gesture—but you find it incredibly comforting nonetheless.
It’s too warm beneath your sweater and his hands are cool as they slip under the hem, sliding against the curve of your hip. Spencer’s never seen you without a shirt, you realize, as he pulls away from the kiss by only centimeters.
“Off?” he mutters, thumbing at the knit fabric. And while you’re far from confident, you’ve certainly been making progress in this area. You help him tug it over your head without a word, noting a distinct and surprising lack of terror within yourself as you watch for his reaction to you. Hands glide slowly up your waist and you find yourself enchanted by the slight furrow of his brow, the parting of his lips. He traces down the lacy edge of your bra, skimming sensitive skin as he goes.
“Pretty,” he murmurs. “You’re… so pretty.”
It seems you’ve rendered him uncharacteristically prosaic. The reaction might be underwhelming if it were anyone else—but Spencer Reid is a man who probably knows every synonym for pretty in the English language. Looking at you, he can’t think of a single one. In an odd way, it’s the highest compliment he could pay you. Your cheeks heat and your stomach flips as he drags a knuckle up the center of the cup, and you can feel it through the layers of lace and fabric. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours and continuing to run his fingers over the sensitive spot. “Do you know how pretty you are?”
This is one argument you will not be winning—one he’ll keep bringing up at the most inopportune times until he gets his way.
“Spencer…”
“Don’t Spencer me. I’m asking you a question.”
The words don’t seem nearly as harsh as they really are when they’re delivered velvet-soft, with his lips and hands on you—when he’s so deftly popping the button on your jeans and dragging the zipper down with all the quickness of a slight-of-hand. It makes it hard to focus, even harder to speak.
“We have… we have differing views on this matter.”
Generous handfuls of your hips and ass are taken as he helps you tug down your jeans before you kick them off, now left just in your underwear.
“I thought I argued my point fairly well last time you were here. You didn’t learn anything from that?”
“Mm… maybe you just need to remind me.”
“Oh, I think I have to,” he agrees through a smile you can only hear. Gentle fingers skim up your back and tap the clasp of your bra. “How about this? Can we take this off?”
Any confidence from earlier crumbles and you loose a nervous hum—which is not the enthusiastic yes you’re sure Spencer will be seeking all evening. He pulls away, features etched with the beginnings of concern and a searching gaze. Asking would be unnecessary; the words simply come tumbling out of you.
“What if you don’t like how I look?”
Spencer doesn’t even blink.
“That’s not going to happen.”
How you wish you could have the same assuredness in yourself that he seems to.
“But what if… what if you’ve been with other girls who are more, like—I don’t know, just—better? Prettier?”
“Honey, you’re—” a sigh, a pause as he searches for the words—his eyes dart up and down your form, assessing, and when he looks back up at you, they’ve cleared and softened. He pulls you a little closer, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb. “I’m not thinking about anyone else right now. I’m not interested in anyone else right now. I already think you’re perfect, and I’m going to keep thinking that regardless of how you look. When I look at you, I’m not looking for things to critique. Do you understand me?”
As far as sentiments go, it’s a nice one. But the pressure of being seen still feels like an impossible burden. You whine, leaning your head against Spencer’s chest. He accepts your weight and runs his hand over your back as you look up at him.
“But what if I’m hideously deformed?”
His eyebrows raise.
“You’re not.”
“But what if I am?”
“Okay. It seems like you don’t feel ready yet, which is completely fine, we just won’t—”
“No!” you protest. “I am ready. I am. But… you have to promise to be nice to me no matter what. Or break up with me if you don’t like what you see so I don't have to wonder.”
“You’re ridiculous,” he says, kissing you, “and the only thing I’m willing to promise is that I’ll think you’re perfect. Me being nice will come as a natural byproduct of that which is very different than being nice by artifice. Take it or leave it.”
A moment of hesitance—but it’s short-lived. This is more important than your insecurities. Spencer is more important.
“Take it,” you mumble against his lips. His fingers trace up the smooth skin of your back, all the way to the fabric and metal hooks on your bra.
“Thank you.”
You wouldn’t have thought Spencer’s genius would manifest in being really good at undoing the clasp of a bra, but you can truly say you’re impressed by the ease with which he does it. It falls to the floor, leaving you completely shirtless for the first time in front of him.
“Well?” you murmur, arms crossed defensively underneath your chest, because you understand overtop would sort of ruin the whole thing. “What’s the verdict?”
“You,” Spencer manages after a moment—you literally watch him memorizing every square inch of your body— “are ridiculously beautiful.”
The way his voice gets quieter makes your stomach flip. It sounds genuine. Too genuine to be faked.
“So… no breakup?”
It seems that the more vulnerable you feel, the less likely you are to take a compliment. Spencer, who is always seeking patterns, probably recognizes this one, and doesn’t push you so hard this time. After a silent moment, he sighs and cradles your face in his hands.
“You’re gorgeous. I hate how incapable you are of seeing that. We’re going to talk about this.”
“Yeah, but not right now, right?” you murmur, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him.
“Not right now,” he agrees.
His lips are so soft and gentle against your own it feels like love, it feels like being talked down from the ledge of your own insanity. Somehow the way he strokes your hip feels more nurturing than sexual. It’s like he has sex and chaste affection on tap, able to turn them on and off at will. You’re happy to drown in either. Ideally, both.
After a while, his hands begin roaming farther, become bolder in their excursions over your flesh. Up, down, over your waist and ribs. Clearly Spencer had been trying to ease you into it, but you still can’t hide your sharp inhalation when his thumbs graze the sensitive skin of your breasts. He pulls his lips from yours, hands splayed over your sides.
“Sit down.”
It’s much too gentle to be a command, but you frown.
“Without you?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, lightly squeezing your waist. “Just sit. Utilize patience.”
You sit on the edge of the bed with an atypical reticence—you’re just a little too nervous for a snippy comeback. Spencer picks up on this, features softening sympathetically as he undoes his tie with nimble fingers. It lands somewhere on the bed and he leans over you, resting his weight on his fists and offering you a quick kiss. His voice is soft and designed to soothe as he speaks, mere inches away from your face, and so quiet it could only be heard at this range.
“Are you nervous?” Cloth from the duvet pinches between your fingers. For a moment you don’t reply, dropping your head to watch when Spencer runs his hand over your thigh. “It’s okay if you’re feeling anxious, baby. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”
You expel a frustrated huff.
“I want to. Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want this. I can handle a little bit of anxiety.”
He hums, dropping to a crouch and inserting himself directly in your line of sight.
“I know you can. But you don’t always have to push yourself so hard.”
“I’m fine pushing myself a little. I pinky-promised I would tell you if I wanted to stop, remember?”
“Oh, how could I forget a pinky-promise?” he smiles.
How could you forget anything, you think, becoming flushed and silently insolent at his dulcet teasing.
“Please, do something.” It’s a whisper, brushing his lips as you lean down until you’re nose to nose. His hands are on the back of your legs.
“I’m working on it.”
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“You’re smart, angel. Tell me why I've got you naked on my bed and I’m kneeling in front of you. Where could I possibly be taking this?”
Oh, you have a pretty strong inkling—but you’re scared to voice it and be wrong. Instead of risking it you shake your head slowly, shyly. What you’re not expecting is for Spencer to duck his head down, slide his hands up the side of your thighs and press kisses to the delicate skin there. It feels good—better than you’d have thought.
“You don’t know?” he asks, looking up at you through burnished gold-rimmed pupils. “No guesses?”
“No guesses,” you agree breathlessly, hotter than you were when you had your clothes on and all the energy in your body condensed into one point between your legs. Spencer hums like he’s considering your answer, smoothing his thumbs over the soft skin of your thighs so gently it feels like burning.
“I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful. Lie back, sweetheart.”
You do as you’re told, scooting up on the mattress and falling back on your elbows. Spencer wastes no time in climbing over you, leaving you in much the same position as the last time you’d been in his bed. The sheets feel cool against your bare skin, but he is exceptionally warm and solid over you.
“I’m being honest.” Lie. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”
Lips find the most sensitive spot of your neck, dancing over it torturously. The front of his shirt brushes your chest. Your thighs clamp together.
“I don't like being lied to. Just say it, baby. I know you know.”
“Spencer,” you whine, fists bunching the excess fabric around his waist. Warm breath condensates on the skin of your neck as he chuckles.
“You don’t like being teased, huh?”
“Please, Spence,” you whisper. You notice the pattern of his breathing pause momentarily before it all comes rushing out at once—and you catalogue that particular plea for later usage.
“I can’t say no when you ask me like that.”
You push your fingers into his soft hair.
“I know.”
It was a lucky guess.
He’s still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your hands in his hair, before darting up to kiss you.
“I’m going to use my mouth this time,” he murmurs against your lips. Though you knew that was what he intended, your heart stumbles in its perpetual march. “Is that okay?”
“What if I…”
You trail off. This is a very intimate situation which you’re not quite sure you have delicate enough language for. Or maybe you’re just stalling. Either way, Spencer is eternally patient with you.
“You need to stop worrying so much, pretty girl. I’d love to do this for you. But it’s your call.”
“Love is a pretty strong word.”
“Sometimes I think not strong enough.”
The way he’s looking down at you so tenderly, brushing hair from your face, makes you think maybe he’s not just talking about how much he would love to go down on you. Regardless, it fortifies your trust in him. Spencer is the kindest person you know. He’s so clearly an enthusiastic giver. Why not allow him to give you this?
“Okay,” you breathe. “You can—yeah.”
As usual, you’re impressively awkward, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, you think he not-so-secretly delights in being the one to fluster instead of the other way around. Rarely has he mentioned his past romantic and sexual exploits, but gathering bits and pieces, you assume he was a fairly late bloomer. He probably knows what it’s like to be nervous and so deeply unsure of yourself.
“Do you remember what you promised me?” he whispers, pressing butterfly-light kisses to your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips traverse down your neck, teeth skimming over the delicate skin while your breath catches.
“Mhm.”
“You’re not gonna break that promise, are you?”
His voice, soft and muffled by your skin, is the most exhilarating and disorienting high. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation, satisfied only where his lips soothe and his body presses against yours. It takes a moment for you to remember to reply.
“No.”
Reward comes in the form of his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast at the same time as he murmurs, “good girl.”
Your stomach flips at the endearment—you squeak and arch into him slightly. Spencer’s hand slides down your ribs as he chuckles, lips pressed just above your collarbone.
“You’ve never called me that before,” you shudder as he continues kissing over your neck.
“It’s not appropriate in most conversational contexts. But I can tell you’ve always been good.”
“Really? How?”
Spencer pauses, pushing himself up to regard you with searching eyes. The places he’d kissed feel cold without him.
“I just can. You’re thinking too much, baby. I need your focus on me.”
“It is on you,” you huff.
You watch his expression shift minutely. He loves games. Of course he’d love playing with you. That knowledge is why you’re only partially surprised when his thumb catches on your nipple again.
“Is it? You’re only thinking about how it feels when I touch you here?”
A stammering nod.
He toys with the sensitive flesh only a second more, amusement lighting his eyes, before dragging his hand down, down, down until it’s between your legs. Fingers trail over your clothed core, skimming the most sensitive part of you while your breath hitches.
“Tell me how it feels when I touch you here.”
“Really good,” you admit, a heavy exhale escaping parted lips as he pins you with his gaze.
“Really good, right. I can make it feel even better. Do you want me to make it feel better?”
Your thighs drop fully open and he adds just a bit more pressure until you’re pushing against his hand in search of more friction.
“Yes please.”
“Then no more questions. I need you to trust me.”
Your answer is a breathy, dreamy sigh—you’d do anything, say anything for him.
“Okay.”
Spencer kisses you, absorbing your noises of protest as his hand ceases between your legs and settles on your hip. But you’re trusting him. No whiny complaining. No unnecessary questions.
Things go much quicker once you’re not interrupting him every twenty seconds to say something. His lips reattach to your neck, retracing their path (albeit quicker) until he’s below your collarbone. You watch in rapt fascination, twisted brows and parted lips as he peppers kisses down over your breast before dragging his tongue over your nipple. A jolted little moan spills out because you hadn’t been prepared to hold one in. Waves of hair fall over Spencer’s face, obscuring him from your vision, but you don’t think to push it away—your body is too busy processing the sensation to be much use on any other front. He darts his tongue over the peaked flesh, eliciting more little open-mouthed exhalations of pleasure from you. Earlier you hadn’t really thought it necessary for your bra to come off—you had no idea this could actually feel so good. A moment later he begins toying with the other nipple and you gasp as a bolt of heat goes straight to your core.
You curse, further words catching in your throat as he suddenly switches, mouthing at your other breast and letting the cold air chill the other until you have goosebumps. It feels a little like hypnosis—you’re unable to move or speak as his tongue laves over you. Soon he’s replacing his mouth with a thumb again, sucking a mark onto your tit just above your nipple. You whimper a little at the pleasant brutality of it, hoping as he releases that it won’t soon fade. Spencer swipes over the stinging skin and presses a tender kiss to it, almost like an apology—but you sincerely doubt he’s actually sorry.
Then he resumes his descent, leaving soft kisses down between your breasts, over your ribcage and stomach—when he reaches your hips, he doesn’t pull off your underwear all at once. Rather, he slides the fabric down centimeter by centimeter, kissing the revealed skin like it’s precious.
This time you don’t need to be told to lift your hips. He helps you slip the final piece of clothing down and off of your legs, flinging it somewhere blindly before getting comfortable between your thighs once more. Your heart pounds with arousal and anxiety as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands rub up and down the tops of them slowly.
“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, loosening his hold on one leg to thumb at your folds. They glisten in the dim light of his bedroom as he gently reveals your clit. A soft whine escapes you when he nudges at the aching bud, slipping over it a few times and alleviating a bit of the pressure that’s been building. “Shh, baby. I know. I’m gonna take care of it. You’re being so good for me.”
Fuck. The way he talks to you makes your brain turn to mush—you’re utterly incapable of forming an intelligent thought. Spencer has rendered you a complete idiot, and you’re not upset about it in the slightest.
He presses more gentle kisses to the creases between your thighs, just above your clit—everywhere except for where you need him most. Everything aches for him in the best way and at least you’re too turned on to be very insecure anymore. All you want is relief. But you’re trusting him.
Thankfully, he delivers.
The tip of his tongue grazes so lightly over your clit that if you weren’t this worked up you may not have felt it at all. In your current state, however, the stimulation echoes through every atom of your being. Every muscle is tense, frozen in place—you can’t even breathe for a second. He does it again, a little flatter, with a little more pressure, and you whimper. It’s a delicate thing, almost pained and definitely overwhelmed as he gently begins working his tongue against you. Your head cranes up to watch, your jaw drops. Approximations of curse words try to form, but come out only as, “f-fu—oh,” so whiny and soft it doesn’t even sound like you. He hums sympathetically, but you suspect it morphs into a chuckle as you continue to gasp and mewl.
There are times where you can hold back sounds of pleasure. When you’re by yourself, it’s typically not a problem. Two weeks ago when Spencer was knuckle deep in you for the first time, it had certainly been a challenge, and you’d pretty much given up. But this—this is something else entirely. It feels like religion. It feels like compulsion. Even if you had the slightest modicum of control over yourself, which you currently don’t, you wouldn’t want to keep quiet. You want him to know what he’s doing to you.
So you let every cry, every whine and whimper drag from your lungs, unbidden and unshaped. You’re new at this, after all—every broad lick feels so good that you have no fucking idea what do to with your hands or how to stop rolling your hips or how to censor your sounds.
“Spencer,” you keen in one of the moments you remember to breathe. He moans against you, taking you into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your hips buck. “Oh, my—fuck!”
The hand that’s still around your thigh rubs soothing lines up and down. The one that’s spreading you open pulls your folds apart a little bit further, granting him more access to your clit. He flicks his tongue and you almost come then and there, vision going gray for a split second.
“Wait, wait, Spence—“ you squeak, writhing and trying not to squeeze your thighs together for fear of hurting him. He pulls back and looks up at you, lips shining with your slick and eyes glazed with lust. Fuckfuckfuck he looks so fucking good. “Please, just… slow down, or I’m gonna… or it’s gonna be over.”
The corner of his mouth twitches as he rubs circles into your inner thigh.
“It’s over when you say it’s over. You don’t have a refractory period. We don’t have to stop at one.”
“Oh—you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” you stammer.
“I know I don’t have to. But if you want me to, I want to. You taste so good, angel girl.”
Well, shit.
He looks absurdly sexy between your legs like this. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you don’t plan on taking it for granted. Your fingers tangle in his hair.
“I don’t know if I can do more than one,” you admit shyly, slightly embarrassed by how little you know about yourself and in general compared to Spencer. Hazel eyes sparkle in the warm light.
“How about we start with one and see how it feels?”
Your voice is breathy when you respond, “okay,” already impatient for him to get back to it. Spencer seems just as eager, immediately kissing between your legs with a passion that makes your lips jealous.
The flat of his tongue presses circles against you and your hips buck, already ramping up to that point you’d been at before calling a time-out. Slowly his fingers find their way to your entrance and he teases you with them, dipping in to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. If you could form words, you’d beg him to just do it already, but all you can manage is an affronted whine as you tilt your hips down, hoping he catches the meaning.
Of course he does—pushing two fingers inside you at once. The intrusive stretch adds a sharp edge to the pleasure, makes it more interesting, as your brain short-circuits and you choke out a moan. It only takes a few slow pumps of his fingers in tandem with the pressure of his tongue until your hips are writhing and you’re and mewling desperately, more overwhelmed with pleasure than you’ve ever been. You push his hair back, able to see him for the first time, and fully appreciate the hollow of his cheeks, the way he looks up at you with perfect, glassy half-lidded eyes, the rhythm of his hand and tongue—he takes your clit between his lips once more, sucking lightly, and you’re done for. A pornographic sob escapes from deep within you as you come, but he doesn’t stop. The orgasm lasts longer than you knew one could—although, it’s only your second time, so you don’t exactly have a lot of data to go off of. Your entire body feels warm and floaty, and what he’s doing feels so good you want him even deeper—but you know he won’t give you that yet. Instead you focus on the slow burn of your orgasm, allowing him to carry on for a while until you begin slowly drifting back to earth and it becomes a bit too much. He recognizes the barely-there whine for what it is and pulls his fingers from you carefully, pressing one final kiss to your clit that makes your legs twitch and summons a weak little moan.
Spencer’s lips find other avenues, over the delicate skin of your thighs and hips and stomach as he slowly drags himself up again. By the time you’re face to face again you’re still breathing hard. You sort of feel like prey underneath his weight, studied so scrupulously, known far more intimately by him than anyone has ever known you before. But there is so much light and kindness in the way he looks at you that you almost can’t make sense of it.
Maybe it’s possible to be known and still wanted. The possibility spins like a coin on its edge in your mind. An idea you spent so much time trying to nurture and is only just now beginning to sprout. Maybe someone could see you at your most vulnerable, and still find you worthy of kindness. Appreciation. Affection.
Spencer certainly could, it seems, as he ducks down to kiss you. You dodge it, turning your head demurely. He nudges his head against yours, speaking so, so softly, utterly cloying as he teases, “what? You’re not gonna kiss me now? Is that how it is?”
“No!” you balk, equally as quiet and especially bashful. “Not when you… no.”
“Let me kiss you,” he pleads, so earnestly you turn your head back to face him. His big eyes are hazy, reflecting all the warmth and dizziness you feel. “Let me kiss you. Please.”
You whine.
“I don’t wanna… taste… myself.”
Spencer doesn’t miss a beat.
“Hm. We’ll need to work on that. Because one day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.”
Something flickers in your core.
Suddenly you’re not so squeamish. You really want him to kiss you now. But it seems he’s going to have his fun, first.
“Open.” Without even thinking about it, your lips part. He really ought to be careful with what he tells you to do—you’re all too compliant. Even as his fingers slip between your lips, you’re obediently hollowing your cheeks around them, watching him with big eyes as his own mouth falls slightly open. “Oh, baby,” he croons. “What are we gonna do with you?”
That flicker has returned to a full-fledged throbbing once you open your mouth again, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen.
“Can you make me come again right now?” you whisper, grasping lightly at his shirt. He grins like he loves the idea—and you let him have his way, accepting his lips on yours with no complaint. After a few moments, (the taste is surprisingly unobtrusive), he pulls away.
“I would love to.”
-
part three
#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds smut
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Everything has changed | H.J.
Pairing: Han Jisung x fem!reader
Summary: in a game party you find out that your friend, Jisung, might have a crush on you and after that night you might have developed a crush on him too.
Warnings: Han is a loser, awkwardness, jealousy, pool sex 💅🏻, pussy eating, unprotected piv(don't do this at home), a bit of handjob.
Words count: ±3,400
THIS CONTENT IS FOR +18 PEOPLE ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!!!!!!!!
A/N: I have some weird ass writers block right now(have been like this for months 😭) but I'm not dead, I'm still alive and thinking about a hundred fics a day, I just don't seem to manage to write them 🤓☝🏻 anyways, this fic was inspired in this post because Han Jisung got some crazy biceps going on here and I'm on my biceps biting era soooo 💅🏻(don't come for me if it's trashy, I haven't written in a hundred years)
If you like my writing don't forget to reblog, comment and like too. xoxo love yall
“What do you think about Jisung?” Was the question Changbin asked when you chose truth in the game of truth or dare you were playing.
You smile sheepishly as all the boys stare at you excitedly and the girls have a little smirk on their lips, as if everyone knows something you don't.
“Hm, he's nice”, you shrug.
“You know that's not what he meant”, Ryujin says, raising a brow.
“Well, then be more specific”, you roll your eyes.
“Would you fuck him?” Karina asks, making the whole group gasp with her bluntness. Your eyes dart to Jisung, who's as red as a tomato, his bottom lips are stuck between his teeth while he stares at you anxiously.
“That's- I never thought about that, so I'm not sure”, you answer nervously. Seeing Jisung’s shoulders go down and a pout form in his lips.
“Then, there's your answer”, Karina shrugs, turning the bottle so someone else can go.
You were being truthful, you never thought about your friend in that way. You know he's handsome but you always avoid having second intentions with someone so close to you because you don't want to lose a friendship.
However, after that day and after seeing Jisung's reaction to your answer, you can't shake the feeling that maybe he's into you. You constantly catch his gaze lingering on you, when you guys are alone he keeps stuttering and even when your other friends are around, he treats you differently from them.
A few weekends after that night, Chan invites everyone to a get together in his house so everyone's going to sleep there after. Karina, Ryujin and Lia stop by your house in the early afternoon to get you so you can all go to Chan's together. When you get there, the guys are in the pool playing some sort of game, Felix and Changbin are on top of two floats, fighting while Minho is attacking Changbin with his water gun and Jisung is in the middle of both.
You stop in your tracks, watching as Jisung holds Changbins thighs, his biceps are deliciously showing and flexing as the older man falls out of the float and the younger one catches him, grabbing his bottom slightly but you can't help but wish you could be the one being grabbed by him like that.
Yes, you weren't lying that night when you said you had never thought about Jisung in that way. The problem is, that after you did, you couldn't stop. Everything he did from that night onwards caught your attention. His eyes on you, his lips, the way he smirks when someone says something dirty and he thinks no one's paying attention. The way every piece of fabric he wears hugs his body like it was made just for him. Your girlfriends are already onto you, they know something is off and they have the feeling that you finally opened your eyes to the puppy in love in your group of friends, but they decided not to say anything for now, afraid that they are going to scare you off and make you bury your new found attraction for Jisung deep in your heart, afraid to ruin your friendship.
You shake your head, listening to what the others are talking while you go inside to put your things in the guestroom Chan has prepared for you.
You spend the afternoon mostly just sunbathing while observing the guys joking around and other people arrive little by little taking your attention away from the pool.
While you eat, you can't help but notice a blonde laughing too loudly, catching your attention. She pushes Jisung playfully, throwing her head back, making you huff annoyed, you're sure what he said isn't even that funny.
“I'm gonna get some more beer, does anyone want something from the kitchen?” Jisung gets up, asking around.
“I'll help”, the blonde smiles, following him after some people ask for their beverage of choice and your eyes linger on his figure, as he walks away with the beautiful girl.
“Oh, y/n, can you get some more napkins for us?” Ryujin asks. You frown, you're sure you just saw a mountain of napkins somewhere but you have no idea where it went as you look around and can't find it.
“Sure”, you nod, getting up to go to the kitchen.
As soon as you enter the house you can hear the giggles coming from the kitchen. You take a deep breath trying to gather the courage to go inside and see something you're not sure you want to.
The girl is close to Jisung, too close for her own good, attached to his arm, practically hanging on to him. You scowl, feeling the blood in your body boiling, if you weren't sure about your feelings for your friend, you are damn sure now seeing as you're basically foaming at the mouth with the view right in front of you.
Jisungs gaze lands on you immediately when you enter the kitchen, his eyes grow wide and he takes a step back, detaching himself from the girl.
“Am I interrupting?” You ask, knowing well that you are and ignoring the glare the blonde gives you.
“Ye-” she tries to say, but is cut off by the man whose gaze hasn't left your figure since the moment you arrived.
“No”, he gulps, “what are you looking for?” Jisung asks.
“Napkins”, you say, tilting your head and leaning over the counter. Your elbows rest on the surface, purposely bringing attention to your chest.
“Just a minute”, Jisung gulps, turning around and opening the fridge. He takes out four cans of beer and gives it to the blonde. “You can go back first, I'll bring the rest in a minute”
She looks at him for a whole 10 seconds, stunned and then huffs, marching out of there.
“Your girlfriend is lovely”, you tease him, walking around the counter to get closer to him.
“She's not my girlfriend”, he laughs sheepishly, “we were just talking”
“I'm sure you were”, you say sarcastically and stare at him for a moment. “So? The napkins?” You ask.
“Oh, yeah! Yeah! Here”, he says, turning around to open the door to the cabinet on top of the sink.
Jisung’s arms look especially strong when he's flexing like that to pull the packages, it's something so mundane but it makes you blush the same way. He closes the door after and hands the products to you. “I'm going to get the beer for the others and follow you in a moment”
You nod, realizing that everything is different now that you know that you like your friend. You like Han Jisung.
You wake up the next morning feeling like shit, you tossed and turned in your bed until you finally fell asleep. You thought about all the things that could go wrong now that you liked one of your friends. What if things didn't work out between you two, you're sure it would cause a rift on your friend group.
Most people went home after midnight, Chan lets only his close friends crash in his house so you know everyone that stayed the night. Lia is by your side, yapping about what you're planning to do in the afternoon while you bite into your bread and try to not freak out when Jisung shows up in the living room. You keep avoiding his eyes, like you're guilty of something, and you definitely are, guilty of liking one of your friends.
In the afternoon you go out with Ryujin, Felix and Hyunjin, you all wanna walk around in the city and buy some clothes you definitely don't need. In the car you stare outside, your friends notice you're dozing around but prefer to wait for you to tell them if something is wrong.
After buying a new bikini, you just accompany your friends in their shopping spree. When you have no more room in the car for any more bags, you finally sit to get something to eat and while you wait for your order, you seize the opportunity to ask what's been on your mind in the last hour.
“Does Jisung like me?” You ask, you want to be sure that he doesn't want to just sleep with you.
“Where did that come from?” Felix frowns.
“That night I was asked if I would sleep with him”, you blush, “I was just wondering if he likes me or just finds me attractive”
Below the table, your fingers are pressing and scratching one another, you're nervous.
“I thought it was pretty obvious”, Hyunjin says, shrugging and getting elbowed by Felix.
“I don't think we are supposed to talk about that”, the younger one smiles awkwardly.
“Oh, please. It's not like the guy has made any effort to keep it a secret”, Ryujin rolls her eyes. “Clearly y/n likes him, that's why she wants to know”, your friend completes, laughing as your eyes grow wide. “It's not like you are making any effort to hide it either”
“Yes, he likes you”, Hyunjin says, ignoring Felix’s worries, “but he was very disheartened after that night when you said you never thought about him in that way”
‘It's a lie, but you don't need to know that’, he thinks to himself. Hyunjin is much more experienced in the love field, opposite to you and Jisung, so he knows you just need a little push for things to start working out and he doesn't mind being the one shoving you to each other.
“Oh”, that's all you can say.
That means maybe he doesn't like you anymore, right? That girl from the other night was very pretty, maybe she's his new type. She looked very girly and soft, you don't know if you would be considered any of that. Most importantly, she was clearly interested in him, maybe he wants to go after someone who doesn't reject him in front of everyone he knows.
You toss and turn once more in bed, Ryujin is sleeping right next to you and you're afraid of waking her up because you can't sleep. Your mind is so full of thoughts, a million per hour and you just can't stop thinking about how you ruined everything with the guy you like.
Even with the AC turned on, you're still hot and since you don't want to wake up anyone, you silently grab your bikini, putting it on before going to the pool.
You didn't expect to find Jisung there, he's just floating in the water with a pout on his lips and eyes closed, maybe he fell asleep?
You sit comfortably on the edge of the pool, putting only your feet in the water and watching Jisung. After a few minutes of complete stillness, the man opens his eyes, taking a deep breath and sinking into the water.
He comes back a few seconds later, back turned to you and you can't help but watch him. His back is muscular, broad shoulders with a tiny waist. When he turns around, he flinches, seeing you there, staring at him.
“I didn't mean to scare you”, you chuckle.
“It's fine”, he scratches the back of his head, “I thought I was the only one still awake”
“It's really hot, I couldn't sleep”, you say, it's not the whole truth but you're not sure if you want him to know that he's the reason you're still wide awake.
He nods, awkwardly looking around while his hands play with the water. Since that game, you both have been feeling weird near each other, you for discovering these new emotions towards your friend and him for being embarrassed that you knew about his one sided crush.
‘Maybe it's worth it’, you think to yourself. He already risked it all when he let you know about his crush, it's not the end of the world if he doesn't like you anymore, you just have to ask.
“About that night…”, you ask out of nowhere with a courage you have no idea where it came from. “Do you still like me?”
Jisung opens his mouth a few times, closing it right after, not knowing what to say. He takes a deep breath before answering.
“I'm sorry, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything”, he sighs.
“Do you still like me?” You frown, repeating your question.
“Yeah, I do”, he shrugs, embarrassed.
“I never thought about you that way before”, you say, seeing the pout growing in his lips, “but after that night I kinda did”
Jisung stares at you for a minute before speaking again.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I like you back”, you feel your whole face heating while you wait for him to react. You both are still far from each other, Jisung in the middle of the pool while you're at the edge. His eyes grow wide and his lips open like he has something to say but doesn't know how.
He starts coming close to you, your heart beating faster as the distance between you both lessens, until the man stops in front of you, his hands landing on each side of your thighs but still not touching.
“Can you repeat that?” He blushes, “I don't want you to say you like me back just because you pity me”, he bites on his bottom lip and you smile. You cup his face with your hands, bending down so you can kiss him. His lips are soft and he tastes good, sweet, like something you would never get tired of. His hands finally touch your skin, sliding to your thighs and squeezing the plushy flesh.
“If you knew me at all, you'd know I would never lie about liking someone”, you let go of him, smiling and giving him a peck before growing the distance between your faces.
“I just really like you”, he blushes, biting his bottom lip, finally letting his gaze travel down your body, going through your tits pushed up by the bikini top and going down your stomach, until it reaches your bikini bottom, his hands squeezing your thighs even more to the view of your body in front of him.
“Is that so?” You smirk, “show me then”, you smile, bending down to whisper in his ear. “Show me how much you like me”
Jisung doesn't waste any time, grabbing your face with only one hand and squeezing your cheeks, kissing you harshly. His other hand slides up, pulling the strings of your bikini bottom so he can untie the bow. He pulls away from you, leaving kisses down your neck, he has his hand down on your pussy, putting on a finger and watching your reaction to it.
You moan, grinding your hips against his hand so you can feel him deeper. Jisung has his mouth slightly opened, dazed with the little whimpers you let out when he adds another finger inside you. Your hands go instantly to his shoulders, nails burying in his skin while his other hand unties the top of your bikini, freeing your tits. Jisung watches them bounce with his bottom lip stuck between his teeth. He can't help himself, coming closer, his mouth closing on your left breast, his tongue playing with your nipple, making you moan.
His thumb slides to your clit and you bite on your bottom lip, trying not to make too much noise — at least not more than you're already making.
The man smiles, kissing down your stomach, getting closer to your pussy and you can feel his breath hitting the skin, making you tremble.
He licks a stripe between your folds, your hands fly to his hair pulling the locks. Jisung's hands slide to your thighs, pulling you more to the edge of the pool. Putting your legs over his shoulders and grabbing your ass so he can eat you out more intensely.
He looks like a man starved, the way he groans and moans just by feeling your taste. Jisung is so turned on he could come just by feeling your tight pussy in his mouth. The sounds you make are divine, he can't believe he gets to hear you like this, because of him, just for him.
“I- I'm gonna-”, you can't even finish your sentence, moaning the moment you try to say more than three words.
“Come for me, baby”, he stops eating you out just to say it, going back to work as soon as the words leave his mouth, he stares at you intensely from down there, working even harder and making you come undone in his mouth.
You take a few deep breaths, eyes closed. You can't believe how good he's at this and it also makes you a bit jealous, how did he get so good?
You watch as the man cleans around his mouth with his thumb, immediately taking the finger to his mouth to lick it clean and you hold the moan that wants to escape your mouth.
“Do you want to keep going?” He asks, not expecting you to but hoping that you do.
You nod, untying the other side of your bikini bottom, throwing the piece of fabric behind you.
You take Jisung's hands in yours, guiding them to your waist as you push yourself into the water. The man holds you, kissing your lips as soon as you are close enough to him. You can feel his hard cock pressing against your thighs when he pulls you towards him, wanting to feel your body on his and you can feel the heat growing all over your body again.
You slide your hand inside his shorts, grabbing his dick and making him whimper in your mouth. You bite on his bottom lip, your hand makes movements of back and forth, making Jisung bend down and bite your shoulder, trying to suppress his moan. You groan, it feels good having him so close to you, marking you as his.
You pull his shorts down all the way down, pushing yourself up and wrapping your legs around his hips. Jisung grabs his cock, rubbing his tip on your entrance, slightly teasing your clit.
“Are you sure about this?” He groans, trying to control himself, “after this I won't let you go”
You nod, closing your eyes in anticipation.
“Words”, he whispers, barely being able to hold himself back.
“Fuck.me.now”, you say with gritted teeth, opening your eyes to stare at him, holding onto his shoulders when he finally enters you.
You feel like heaven when he's inside you, your velvet walls tightening around him make him groan.
“Shit”, he cusses, biting on his bottom lip. “You're so hot”, he gets closer, kissing you deeply. His lips are so soft, you could never get over it.
Jisung starts thrusting, wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you closer, fucking you deeper.
Your hands slide to his hair, pulling the locks while his lips go down your neck. He bites on your skin, sucking the area until it's red and you're sure it's gonna leave a mark. One of his hands goes to your clit, rubbing the bud, making you get closer to your climax.
“I'm close”, he says, his thrusts faster and his fingers working diligently.
“I'm close too”, you say, kissing him, feeling his thrusts getting sloppier. You feel the hot liquid being spilled inside you, but he doesn't stop. Jisung keeps going, putting more pressure into your clit until you're trembling around him. He whimpers in your mouth, his hips faltering and both of your breaths growing tired.
He rests his head on your shoulder for a few seconds, before moving away from you, staring at you like you're going to fight him and run off.
“I guess you like me a lot”, you smirk, watching him blush and smile.
“Do you wanna go out with me?” He asks, biting on his bottom lip.
“I thought you'd never ask”, you smile, giving him a peck on the lips. “I even already have the reason for our first fight”, you raise one brow, laughing as his eyes grow wide.
“What?”
“You are going to have to explain to me how you got so good at eating pussy”, you tease and he smiles.
“I guess I'm just a natural”, he shrugs, making you shake your head in amusement and kiss him.
You could get used to this, you definitely can.
#skz#stray kids#skz imagines#stray kids imagines#han jisung x you#han jisung x reader#han x reader#han x you#skz x you#skz x reader#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#skz smut#stray kids smut#skz scenarios#han scenarios#han jisung scenarios#han smut#han jisung smut#stray kids scenarios
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✮ What happened to hello | Lando Norris ✮
Summary: Quick little drabbled based on all the speculation of Lando getting a bad haircut because he wore his hat so much at the Mexican GP
word count: 848
a/n: I haven't wrote in a long time so I'm pretty rusty, go easy on me! I also wasn't entirely sure how I wanted to wrap up the ending, so yeah, sorry for that!
✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮
“Take the hat off Lando” You playfully demand with a squint of your eyes as soon as Lando’s face appears on your laptop screen.
You’re currently on day 14 of being apart since Lando left for the triple-header and it’s eating you both alive. You haven’t been apart for longer than seven days at a time, in almost a year. Everyone around you, even the fans, call you two codependent, but really, you were just in love and wanted to spend as much time together as possible.
Between the time zone differences and you both working so much, you’ve found it difficult to spend much time together. You’ve found comfort in being able to keep up with Lando from all of the fan and official F1 content posted online.
You’ve gotten a giggle out of all the speculation surrounding Lando’s hair. It started on the first media day in Mexico, when it appeared Lando had gotten a haircut, but his hat stayed on the entire day.
The next day was when the rumors actually started, Lando hadn’t taken his hat off again and every fan you came across was freaking out and cracking jokes that Lando got a bad haircut and was embarrassed about it.
Initially, aside from enjoying all the posts, you hadn’t given it much thought, assuming Lando was mostly wearing the hat because of the heat; but then you realized Lando hadn’t sent you any photos without the hat on, and the handful of late night facetimes you had, he was already in bed with his hoodie up and it was mostly dark.
Whenever you and Lando are apart, you always made sure to keep each other still included in the day to day parts of your lives; you were always sending photos, videos and voice notes until you could facetime or be with each other again.
Lando hadn’t changed your familiar routine, he just never had hair showing, which was a little odd, but nothing concerning. You admittingly missed the post shower selfies or the sweaty, messy haired, tired post race selfies.
You’re instantly met with a giggle from Lando “What happened to hello baby.” Lando’s sat in his drivers room, he’d got a couple hours break between practice and qualifying and wanted to make the most of your shared free time to squeeze in a quick facetime with you.
“Hello baby” You grinned cheekily. “I’ve missed you so much, did you get a bad haircut?” You giggled
Lando raised an eyebrow as another giggle slipped past his lips. “Did I get a bad haircut?”
You nodded quickly “You haven’t taken your hat off the entire time you’ve been in Mexico, so show me”
“And how would you know that, hmm?” Lando asked with a smirk. Lando was initially confused, but now all he wanted was to play into the fun he was having.
A bright rosy blush crept up your cheeks as you briefly glanced away from Lando on the screen. Lando’s now grinning mischievously, enjoying getting to tease you. “Do I need to talk to Osc or have you been creeping on me?”
Before you even get a chance to answer, Lando starts giggling again and shaking his head. You pout and cross your arms. “A bad haircut is the only explanation for the hat and not getting my selfies”
“Your selfies?” Lando questions, once again raising an eyebrow. He knows exactly what selfies you’re talking about, but one thing about Lando Norris is that he loves to tease his girlfriend.
“I want my post race selfies back Lando”
Lando smiles widely, taking a moment to take in all of your soft sweet features. Lando hadn’t intentionally been keeping anything from you, the few days he had been in Mexico had been busier than usual and it slipped his mind. “I’m sorry my love, I promise you’ll get one after quali”
“I better” You murmur, arms still crossed against your chest. You did miss the selfies, but you weren’t actually annoyed with him, in fact any feelings that even remotely resembled annoyance or hurt from the past few days all stem from a place of missing Lando.
Lando knows you better than you know yourself, so he knows that if he doesn’t do something in the next few minutes, the call is going to take a sharp turn from playful and fun to somber and probably leave at least one of you in tears. Neither you or Lando were one to shy away from your emotions, but if Lando could hold off on it, until he could guarantee you his undivided love and attention, that's what he’s going to do.
Lando winks at you, before taking off his hat and running his hand through his hair. “Is that better my love?”
A small gasp passes your lips, before you break out into the widest smile that Lando had seen in weeks. “Lando!” You squeal happily. “You look so handsome, why have you been hiding your hair?”
“I haven’t been hiding my hair, you doughnut,” Lando laughed. “It’s hot and I like my hat”
#Lando Norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula one x you#formula one fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x you#ln4#Lando Norris fluff#lando norris
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snack thief
the team x spider!reader
summary: someone is stealing your snacks and you’re going to figure out who.
content, warnings: kind of a crack fic, spider cusses a lot? not proofread
word count: 1.8k
a.n. Aunt May mentioned! who cheered?
It was peaceful in the confines of Mount Justice. So peaceful it was almost suspicious to the team. They barely get downtime nowadays, something they used to practically beg for. Now all they want is a break.
It's perfect and quiet and peaceful.
Until they hear their friend scream bloody murder.
Spider.
Everyone jumps up, alarmed and ready to fight.
You're in the kitchen holding an empty container, the refrigerator wide open, and looking more stressed out than they've ever seen you. But there was no threat?
The team is still worried but confused. There was no one else in the kitchen with you so...? Why were you screaming? And there was seemingly no spider on the container you were holding, the only creature that could scare you bad enough for you to freak out like this. (You denied this claim again and again, unfortunately they didn't believe you. How embarrassing was that? Spider had arachnophobia? How damaging to your reputation.)
You continue to stare at the container, and your friends have concluded their near heart attack at your cry for help was all for not.
Their shoulders all sag simultaneously, breaths of relief leaving their mouths.
Kaldur is the first to speak, "What has gotten into you, Spider? You scared us all." He does not sound happy.
And if you took the time to look at the rest of your teammates, the annoyance would be evident.
But no. You continued to stare at your stupid container.
"Hello!" - Artemis
"Earth to Spider!" - Robin
"We're not getting any younger over here." - Wally
Roy only sighs, shaking his head, Conner raising a brow beside him, amused for the most part.
M'gann just stands quietly, wondering if she should read your mind without your permission to figure out the problem or not.
"Which one of your imbeciles did this?" Your voice was eerily calm...it was disturbing.
They all shared the same sentiment. What?
You glare in their direction, eyeing each one of your supposed friends carefully.
"One of you is the cause of this," you hold up your empty container. "Someone ate my cookies. I've had the worst day of my life and the only thing that could help was having my precious cookies. Only I get here and they're gone!" Ah. They get it now.
"I'm going to find out which one of you is responsible. And it won't be pretty."
"Uhh why was it in the fridge anyways?"
"Shut it Robin. They’re leftovers. And you’re at the top of my suspect list. You and your little buddy there," you eye Wally.
He squirms in his spot.
You were grocery shopping for your aunt when you spotted them.
Spider-Person gummies.
You wince, the name Spider-Person did not roll off the tongue correctly. You prefer Spider like the team calls you. Or maybe Arachnid would be cool? Oh well, it's too late now. The name Spider-Person was plastered onto kid's snacks for Pete's sake! There was no coming back from that.
Whatever. You threw it in your basket and immediately opened the box when you got home. Showing off to Aunt May, she was very proud, just like you thought she’d be. Except for when—
"I always thought you'd be known for curing diseases or something, but children’s snacks? This'll do!"
"Hey!" She was joking of course (right?).
And later that day you brought it to the team's kitchen, wanting to show off to them. You didn't want them to eat it of course, it was going to be your post-mission snack. A little pick-me-up.
No one but Red Tornado was there, which was a little weird but it was a rare day off. You'll just come back when everyone is here.
You made sure to stick a post-it on the box of gummies, effectively claiming them yours that shall not be touched.
You hadn't left your snacks alone in the kitchen of Mount Justice since your cookies disappeared a mere week ago.
You still hadn't figured out who the culprit was.
You will. One of these days.
You leave and don't come back until the next day, everyone is there.
"Oh goodie! I have something to show you guys!"
Only you get to the kitchen cabinet, open the box, and...no.
Nonononono
The box of "Spider-Person Gummies" was completely empty.
The box that clearly had your name written with the words "DO NOT EAT!" on the post-it!
You scream like the first time.
"Who did it?!"
The team is a little slower this time around, not trusting your panicked screams after the first incident.
Robin face palms, "Come on spider, it's not that serious."
You gape at him, "Not that serious?! Are you crazy?!" You eye him suspiciously, "it was you, wasn't it?"
"What?! No! I'm just being reasonable here. You can always buy more,” he shrugs, clearly not seeing the bigger picture. Someone is eating your snacks without permission. Deliberately ignoring your name that was written in bold on the post-it stuck to the front. You try a different approach though.
"First of all, I don't exactly come from a background of money. I can't just waste valuable green for some fruit snacks! And second, it was the last box in that section. How do I know they'll be restocked by the time I get back? What if they were there for limited time?!" The thought terrifies you, "oh no."
The team watches you nearly have a breakdown over your gummies "...those snacks are usually less that 10 dollars, Spider."
"And that's too much!"
"You can't be that poor."
"Eh, you'd be surprised."
It’s a full two weeks of the snack thief’s attacks.
Your spidey senses go off at the two week mark and they lead you to the kitchen.
You gasp.
"You!"
Wally is caught mid slice into the chocolate cake you made for the team, he looks petrified at being caught.
His voice cracks, "what?"
"It's been you! I knew it was you!"
"What! No! You made this for the team, right? That's not fair to pin the blame on me when I have permission to eat this!"
Okay, he's got a point.
"Whatever. You're still at the top of my list."
You’re in stealth mode with the rest of the team, waiting for your cue to attack.
You communicate through the mind link to keep yourself from boredom, this is gonna take a while.
You decide to bring up the most recent snack attack.
‘I still need to figure out who this snack thief is. They took my leftover brownies this time! The ones May made for me. Do you know how upsetting it was to see the brownies made by my very precious, hardworking Aunt all gone?’
You hoped to weed the rat out through sympathy.
‘Oh...that was yours?’
‘M'gann!’
‘I'm sorry! I didn't know!’
Just then, Kaldur makes your cue to attack. And before you know it, you’re in battle. However, your mind is elsewhere.
The distraction earns you a kick to the face, your spidey senses were screaming but you couldn't be bothered to really care at the moment, too focused on the fact that M'gann admitted to eating your brownies.
She's the snack thief?! But she was at the bottom of your list...
You regret ignoring your senses immediately, that kick was more powerful that you thought it’d be. Definitely going to bruise later.
‘I'm not the snack thief! I just thought Red Tornado left them! Remember? He said he wanted to be more involved with us outside of missions? I swear I know better! You forgot a post-it with your name this time. I'm really sorry, I should've known.’
You sigh, she sounds too sincere for it to truly be her.
‘It's alright, I forgive you. This time. It was my bad anyways.’
There’s many instances of coincidences as your friends would call it.
Robin caught digging into your chips;
“But you said I could have some!”
“No not those ones! My other chips!”
“Wow, thanks for specifying that.”
Conner caught…eating your candy?!
Conner doesn’t even eat sweets like that, so what changed? Or was that all a ploy? Pretending to not be fond of sweets only to eat yours behind your back…
But his eyes pleaded forgiveness, truth. Damn him.
Roy, Kaldur, and Artemis also had their moments of suspicion.
So who was it?
You only had one more course of action. You beg May to let her borrow your phone.
“It’s an emergency!”
“An emergency that could last all day? Or more?” She lifts a brow, don’t let her intimidate you, Spider.
“Pleeeaaaase,” you bat your lashes at her.
She can’t resist you. The child she’s come to see as her own. You are hers, no one could tell her otherwise. She sighs, “Don’t know why I even try with you.”
“Thanks May!” You plant a kiss on her cheek, “love you!”
“Whatever kid,” trying not to show disappointment in herself for allowing you to get to her.
Set your phone up in the kitchen cabinet of Mount Justice with your snack. Hit FaceTime with Aunt May’s phone and accept on yours.
There’s no way you don’t catch your thief now.
~~
You wait a good 20 minutes before you’re already tired of your plan.
You groan in annoyance, can they hurry up and attempt to take your snack already?!
It takes another three hours before something happens.
Your spidey senses blare, making you jump from your place on the couch with Artemis and Roy. They look at you like you’re crazy, yeah you were getting used to that.
There’s shuffling on the other end of the call.
Whoever is in the kitchen is toast. You look down at May’s phone.
“You!”
“Uh oh.”
“I knew it! I knew it I knew it I knew it! From the beginning! How could I be so stupid and not listen to my gut?!”
Wally states back at you through the phone screen, eyes wide.
“You lying son of a-”
“Listen, we can talk this out-”
“Put my cookies down! You know damn well my name is written on the box!”
He surrenders, placing the cookies back in its place.
The rest of your team came out to witness this very amusing and long awaited moment.
It was funny, the living room you were in was right next to the kitchen, meaning speaking through the phones was pretty useless. They won’t say anything, lest they catch your attention and get yelled at.
“I’m going to ruin you for what you did, Speedy Bitch.”
Roy hears his code name and it’s enough for him to scare. He holds his hands up, “whoa! What did I do?”
“Not you! Obviously not you!”
You get up from the couch, bolting to your “friend.”
Wally panics, “Someone call Superman! Spider’s gone crazy!” And he books it.
It’s okay. He may be the fastest man alive, but no one messes with a Spider’s food.
so who’s attending Wally’s funeral? definitely not spider.
this is based off a video I saw, someone’s sibling was on FaceTime w a phone in the cabinet to catch who was eating their snacks 💀 I just HAD to use it
#spider & the team#young justice x reader#conner kent x reader#robin x reader#superboy x you#superboy x reader#kaldur’ahm x reader#kaldur x reader#wally west x reader#artemis crock x reader#m’gann m’orzz x reader#roy harper x reader#aqualad x reader#red arrow x reader#dick grayson x reader#omg it’s 2am what am I doing#young justice fanfiction
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