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v6quewrlds · 7 months ago

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❝ my little love, j. burrow. ❞ ‎ ‎ ┉

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: the afc championship game is around the corner. thankfully amara burrow is more than happy to make sure her daddy is ready to bring it home.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: a little game dey fic based on an anon request for good luck. might make this a series possibly bc i'm in love with this concept <333 ty anon for requesting!!

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: mostly fluff and an adorable toddler. joe's a little out of character but pls let me be a little delusional.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x wife!reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 4.5k.

The morning light painted the room a soft shade of gold as your eyes slowly opened to the sound of Joe's quiet footsteps. His honey-blonde hair was still damp from the shower, and you felt a pang of loss as his body heat retreated from your shared space. You watched him from the bed, his strong arms moving with the ease of routine as he pulled on his clothes. His Bengals hoodie hung from the chair, a silent reminder of the day ahead.

"You're leaving already?" you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

Joe looked up from tying his shoes, a warm smile playing on his lips. "Got to get to the stadium, babe." He walked over to the bed, planted a kiss on your forehead, and whispered, "Early morning practice before the game tonight."

You sat up, your heart racing as you realized the significance of the day. "It's AFC Championship day," you murmured softly, your lips pulling into a lazy smile. "Amara's going to be so disappointed she slept through your send-off."

Joe chuckled and leaned over to kiss you again, this time his lips lingered on yours. "It's okay. She'll probably be asleep for another few hours." He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "But I'd better get going." He turned to leave, but your hand shot out, grabbing his arm.

"Can I make you some breakfast?" you offered, pushing yourself up on your elbows. "Just something quick?"

He looked at you with affectionate amusement. "Nah, I've got it covered. You just rest up. Enjoy your day off, baby." With that, he stood up to his full height.

His blonde head turning to look at the door as it cracked open. Amara's curly hair appeared first, then her sleepy eyes peeked through the gap. She looked around the room, her gaze finally landing on her dad. "Daddy," she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joe's smile grew wider as he crouched down to scoop her up in his arms. "Hey, baby girl," he greeted. Amara giggled, her cheeks pink with the excitement of being woken by a surprise. She snuggled into his embrace, her small arms wrapping around his neck.

"Why are you leaving?" Amara asked sleepily, her voice muffled against Joe's chest.

"I've got a big game today remember, pumpkin?" Joe replied, his voice gentle. "But I'll be back after practice to get ready for the game with you and Mommy, okay?"

Amara nodded, her eyes half-closed as she drifted back to sleep in her father's arms. You watched them with a mix of love and amusement. "Looks like she's not going anywhere," you said with a chuckle. "Let's get her back to bed before she decides she wants to come to practice too."

Joe carefully laid Amara back on the bed, her curly hair fanning out around her on the pillow. He kissed her forehead before standing up. "Alright, I'll be back soon. You stay here with Mommy," he whispered.

You watched him go, feeling a mix of pride and a hint of sadness as he disappeared from the doorway. You knew this was his moment, and you were determined to make sure everything was perfect for him. After a few minutes of cuddling Amara back to sleep, you slipped back into your own slumber. The warmth of your daughter's body and the quiet whispers of the morning lulling you into a peaceful doze.

When you woke up, the sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting bright beams through the windows. Amara was playing quietly with the edge of the bedspread, her eyes glued to the side of your sleeping face. You kissed her forehead, "Good morning, sunshine," you murmured. "Daddy has his big game tonight, remember?"

Amara's eyes lit up, and she nodded vigorously. "I'm going to help him win," she announced.

You chuckled, "Well, you've got to get ready for the game too, baby girl. Let's go brush your teeth and get dressed." You picked up your daughter, who was now fully awake, and carried her to the bathroom. The smell of minty toothpaste filled the air as you bent over the sink, supporting Amara's little frame as she brushed her teeth herself. Afterward, you made your way back downstairs to find a surprise waiting for you: two plates of steaming pancakes with a side of cut and washed strawberries and a sticky note that read, "For my two favorite girls."

"Look what Daddy made us," you exclaimed, pointing to the breakfast spread.

Amara's eyes grew wide with excitement. "Can I have syrup?" she asked, her voice tinged with hope.

"Of course, you can, honey," you said, pouring a little pool of syrup onto your daughter's plate. "But not too much, okay?"

You sat down at the kitchen table, the pancakes steaming up the windows. You took a bite of yours, savoring the sweetness that Joe had managed to capture perfectly despite his rush. You could almost taste the love he'd put into it. As you ate, Amara chattered away, her excitement for the game contagious.

Once breakfast was done, it was time to get ready. You washed and detangled Amara's curls, applying a generous amount of coconut-scented conditioner. The scent filled the bathroom, mixing with the humidity from the hot water. Most days it was a struggle to get Amara to sit still for hair brushing, but today she was surprisingly patient as you worked through her curls. The TV played the pregame show in the background, with the sounds of commentators and cheers from distant crowds setting the atmosphere.

"Mommy, can I wear my special shirt today?" Amara asked, her eyes shining with excitement.

"Of course," you responded, referring to her tiny, custom-made rhinestone jersey that read 'Daddy's MVP' in glittering letters. It was a miniature version of Joe's home game attire, and Amara absolutely adored it. He had it made for her third birthday months in advance, and it had been a staple of her wardrobe during the football season.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence as you continued working through the curls, your fingers moving with practiced ease. You couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you. Despite the excitement of the day ahead, there was something so grounding about these quiet moments with your daughter.

As you worked, the jiggle of the doorbell echoed through the house. "Who's that?" You gasped dramatically, knowing full well that your husband had returned from practice.

"It's Daddy!" Amara shouted, jumping off the chair and sprinting towards the door.

You couldn't help but laugh as you followed her daughter, calling after her, "You know you can't just run off like that, young lady!" But the sound of Joe's laughter as he walked through the front door told you he didn't mind. When the two of you entered the living room, Joe was there, freshly showered and dressed in a casual outfit. His eyes lit up at the sight of you, and he scooped Amara up, twirling her around until she squealed with delight.

"Are you getting ready for the game?" Joe asked Amara as he set her back down, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Yes!" Amara exclaimed, bouncing in his arms. "Mommy's doing my hair right now." She pointed to the chair you decided to carry with you downstairs. You had learned the hard way that once her father was home, it would be hard to get Amara away from him.

Joe's eyes met yours, and you could see the warmth and love in them. "You're doing a great job," he said, planting a kiss on Amara's forehead. "Why don't you finish up with Mommy and then you can help me get ready?"

You nodded, "Let's get those curls looking perfect for the game." You sat back down with Amara on your lap, continuing the meticulous task of styling her hair. The sound of the TV grew louder as the commentators discussed the upcoming matchup. The excitement was palpable, and even you felt a thrill of anticipation.

While you worked your magic with Amara's hair, Joe took a seat on the couch, his eyes glued to the screen. His gaze would occasionally drift to the two of you, a soft smile playing on his lips. Despite the nerves that were surely bubbling beneath the surface, he looked relaxed and at peace. You knew that seeing his family happy brought him comfort, a nonverbal pep talk before the battle ahead.

As you patted her head to signal she was done, Amara looked up at you with wide eyes. "Done?" She asked, her voice filled with excitement. You nodded, and Joe hit the pause button on the TV. "So, Coach," Joe began, gaining Amara's attention as she skipped over to him. "You gonna help me watch film?"

Amara nodded excitedly, her head bobbing up and down as if she were at an interview. You watched them with a warm smile, the love in Joe's eyes for their daughter was something you never got tired of seeing. As Joe carried Amara upstairs to his office, you took a moment to appreciate the quiet house. You knew that once your in-laws arrived, the calmness would be replaced with the buzz of pregame energy.

Your phone vibrated with a text from Robin, Joe's mom. "Be there in 20!" it read.

You hurried upstairs to finish your own makeup and hair. You had decided to go with a sleek bun, throwing on your 'Burrow' jersey and slipping on a pair of leggings just until Joe's parents arrived. As you applied a coat of mascara, you heard the doorbell ring.

Rushing downstairs, you threw open the door to find Robin and Jimmy standing there with arms full of Amara's favorite snacks and juice boxes. "We come bearing gifts," Jimmy said with a wink.

"Thanks," you said, taking the boxes from them and setting it on the kitchen counter. "Amara's upstairs with Joe, watching some last-minute game film."

Robin and Jimmy exchanged surprised glances. "On game day?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow. "That's new."

"Amara's the only one who can get him to break his routine," you said with a chuckle. "I'm married to the man and I'm not even allowed in there on game days. Forget the day of the AFC Championship."

Robin laughed as she set down her bag and looked around for somewhere to sit. "Well, she's definitely her daddy's little girl."

"You have no idea," you said, rolling your eyes playfully. "But it's cute. And honestly, it keeps her out of my hair so I can get ready in peace."

You all shared a laugh, the tension of the impending game momentarily forgotten in the warmth of your family dynamic. Jimmy leaned against the kitchen counter, his eyes gleaming with pride. "It's good to see him loosen up a bit. The game's going to be intense enough."

You nodded in agreement, your eyes flickering to the stairs where you could hear Joe's low voice explaining plays to Amara. "You guys grab whatever you want," you offered, gesturing to the fridge. "I'm just going to go get dressed properly."

In the bedroom, you were surprised by the sight of your daughter, now dressed in her rhinestone jersey and sitting cross-legged on your bed. She had her dad's playbook open in front of her, her little hands tracing over the diagrams with a serious expression.

"Where's your player, Coach?" You asked with a smile, stepping into the room.

Amara looked up at you with a grin that was all Joe. "He's getting ready," she replied, her eyes bright with excitement. You couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at your daughter's enthusiasm. You quickly changed into your own game day outfit, swapping your leggings for straight-leg jeans and low top Jordans that matched Joe’s cleats.

As you finished up your makeup, Joe emerged dressed to perfection in his game day outfit. He picked up Amara, who squealed with delight as she was swept into his arms. "What do you think, Coach?"

Amara studied him intently, her eyes roving over his outfit and the matching shoes. "You look like a winner, Daddy," she declared with the confidence of someone who had never seen him lose.

Joe chuckled, his eyes shining. "Thanks, Coach." He leaned over and kissed you. "You too, beautiful."

Your cheeks heated up with a mix of love and excitement. You had picked out the perfect outfit to match your daughter's jersey. The three of you made quite the trio: Joe in his tailored outfit, you in your jersey, and Amara in her mini-me version of Joe's game day look.

You made your way to the stadium, the energy in the air electric. Fans in black and orange jerseys lined the streets, their chants echoing off the buildings. The anticipation grew stronger as you approached Paycor Stadium, the towering structure a beacon of hope for a victory that would take the Bengals to the Super Bowl.

As you walked through the tunnel leading to the sidelines, you felt your heart pounding in your chest. This wasn't just any game; this was the AFC Championship. You held Amara's hand tightly, her eyes scanning the field as Joe went to join his team. The players warmed up, their movements an anxious show of power, each one focused on the task at hand.

Amara's grip grew tighter as she finally spotted her uncles, Joe's teammates, and friends, Ja'Marr and Tee. "Look, Mommy, there's Uncle Tee and Uncle Ja'Marr!" she squealed, pointing. You laughed and nodded, your eyes finding the two men who looked over and waved. They broke away from their warm-up routine to come say hello, their smiles wide as they approached the little girl in the sparkling 'Daddy' jersey.

"Look who we have here," Tee said, bending down to give Amara a high five. "Little Miss MVP herself."

Ja'Marr chuckled, ruffling her curls. "You ready to help us win today, Coach?"

"Yes!" Amara exclaimed, her eyes shining with excitement.

"That's what I like to hear, Coach," Joe said, coming up behind his teammates, his eyes crinkling with pride as he looked at Amara. "You two keep the good vibes coming, okay?" He kissed you and Amara on the cheek.

"You got any tips for us, Coach?" Tee asked, playfully bumping fists with Amara.

Amara nodded solemnly. "You gotta catch the ball, Uncle Tee," she said, her arms resting on her hips. The spitting image of her father's mannerisms.

"Just me?" Tee feigned shock, his smile growing wider. "What about Ja'Marr?"

Amara giggled, her eyes shifting to the other player. "You too, Uncle Ja'Marr. You gotta run really fast!"

The two men laughed, their ease a testament to their years playing together. "We'll keep that in mind," Joe said, hoisting Amara up and spinning her around. She squealed with delight, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest, watching the love between your husband and daughter.

After a few more minutes of conversation with the teammates, Joe set Amara down and kissed her cheek. "I got to go, pumpkin. But I'll see you after the game, okay?"

"Good luck, Daddy!" Amara shouted as Joe jogged back to the field, her voice carrying over the noise of the growing crowd.

You took a deep breath, your eyes following your husband until he disappeared into the sea of players. Then you turned your attention to your daughter, who was now bouncing up and down with excitement. "Come on, let's get to our seats so we can watch Daddy play," you said, taking Amara's hand and leading her through the bustling corridors of the stadium.

The two of you made your way to the luxury suite reserved for the families of the Bengals' players. The walls were adorned with photos of past games and memorabilia, differing from the chaotic energy outside. The suite was filled with other families, their laughter and excitement creating an infectious buzz.

You and Amara found your seats, the plush couches offering a cozy spot to join Joe's parents. The view was breathtaking, the field stretching out before you like a green canvas waiting for history to be painted upon it. As you settled in, your phone buzzed with a text from your sister, asking if you had arrived and if you had seen Joe yet. You replied with a photo of Amara in her jersey, her cheeks rosy from the excitement, and a thumbs up.

The game kicked off, and the roar of the crowd filled the stadium. The players on the field were mere dots of color moving swiftly, their movements precise and powerful. Each play was met with cheers or gasps from the spectators, and even Amara, with her limited understanding of the sport, knew to clap when the crowd did. You held your breath every time Joe took the field, your heart racing in sync with the clock. The tension in the suite grew with every pass thrown, every tackle made.

Throughout the game, Amara remained glued to your side, her eyes rarely leaving the screens broadcasting the action. She munched on her snacks, sipped her juice, and whispered questions about the game that you did your best to answer. Despite the excitement, you noticed her daughter's eyelids growing heavy. The excitement of the day was taking its toll, and the warmth of the suite only added to her sleepiness.

As the fourth quarter approached, the game grew tense. The score was close, and every play could be the deciding factor. You held your breath, your heart in your throat. The other families in the suite mirrored your anxiety, your faces a mix of hope and fear. The air was thick with anticipation, the only sounds the occasional murmur of a prayer or a shout of encouragement for the players on the field.

Amara leaned heavily against you, her eyes drooping. You knew it was only a matter of time before your little girl succumbed to the call of slumber. You cuddled her closer, whispering reassurances that Joe and his team would pull through.

On the field, Joe played with a fiery determination that was palpable even from their lofty perch. Each pass thrown, each yard gained, brought them one step closer to victory. The clock ticked down, each second feeling like an eternity. With less than five minutes left, the Bengals were 2nd and goal, the crowd anxious with anticipation.

Amara's eyes fluttered closed, lulled by the steady rhythm of the game and the warmth of your embrace. You held her tightly, whispering words of encouragement to Joe through the glass, as if he could hear her. You watched as Joe took the final snap, his eyes scanning the field, his body poised and ready. The crowd held their breath as Joe threw a Hail Mary pass, the ball soaring through the air with practiced precision. It was caught by Joe's favorite target, Ja'Marr, in the end zone, sealing the Bengals' win.

The suite erupted in cheers, the sound deafening as confetti rained from the ceiling. Amara stirred in her sleep, mumbling something incoherent. You felt a mix of relief and elation as the scoreboard flashed in victory. They were going to the Super Bowl. The final whistle blew, and the players on the field hugged and high-fived, their faces a blend of exhaustion and triumph.

You made your way down to the area outside of the locker rooms. Amara's head resting on your shoulder, sleeping peacefully. As Joe emerged from the lockers, his eyes searched the suite until they found your eyes. He waved, a grin stretching across his face. You felt a surge of love and pride as you returned the gesture, your voice lost in the mess of the crowd. The other players dispersed to their families, but Joe's gaze remained fixed on you. He made his way over, dodging well-wishers and reporters.

When he reached you, he leaned in to give you a kiss. "We're goin' to the Super Bowl, baby," he whispered, his voice hoarse from shouting on the field.

Your eyes shone with unshed tears. "I'm so proud of you," you murmured, your voice thick with emotion.

Joe's grin grew wider as he turned to Amara, whose eyes had snapped open at the sound of her father's voice. "Did you win, Daddy?" she asked, her sleepiness forgotten.

"We did, baby girl," Joe said, scooping her up in his arms. He held her close, the joy of the moment reflected in both their faces. "Couldn't have done it without your help, Coach."

Amara giggled, her tiny hands clapping together excitedly. "I'm proud of you, Daddy," she said, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Your heart swelled with love as you watched them, feeling the warmth of their bond.

As Joe started to transfer her back to you and walk towards the podium for his post-game press conference, Amara tugged on his arm. "Can I go with you?" she asked, her eyes hopeful.

You looked at Joe, a hint of uncertainty in your gaze. "It's okay," Joe assured you, setting Amara down. "Let's go, Coach." He took his daughter's hand, and she beamed up at him.

The press conference room was a whirlwind of flashing cameras and eager reporters. Joe sat down at the podium, and Amara climbed into his lap. She looked around at the unfamiliar faces with wide eyes, but she remained still and silent, as if she understood the gravity of the situation. You took a spot at the back of the room, your heart beating a little faster than normal. You knew your daughter was a little star, but you didn't want to steal the spotlight from your husband's moment of triumph.

As Joe fielded questions about the game-winning play and his thoughts on heading to the Super Bowl, Amara studied the microphones and notebooks with curiosity. Her tiny hand rested on her father's forearm, her thumb tracing patterns on the fabric of his shirt. The room was still but you could see the way Joe's gaze kept flickering down to your daughter, a silent reassurance passing between them.

When the questions shifted to Joe's family life and how they supported him, he didn't miss a beat. "They're everything," he said, his voice earnest. "My wife, she's my rock. And my little coach here," he leaned down to poke at Amara's tummy, "Keeps me on my toes." The room melted at the sight of the quarterback with his daughter, and a round of 'awes' echoed through the room.

Amara, sensing the shift in attention, straightened up, giggling as she looked around, a hint of shyness creeping into her expression. She was used to her father's games, but this was new, even for her. She leaned into Joe's side, her thumb returning to her favorite spot on his shirt.

You watched from the back, a proud smile on your face. Your heart swelled as Joe spoke about you, your bond, and your life together. It was a rare moment of vulnerability from your husband, who was usually so focused on the game.

One of the reporters leaned in. "And what does it mean to you, having your daughter here today, watching you play?"

Joe's eyes lit up as he looked down at Amara. "It's incredible. She's my biggest fan and my biggest motivation." He ruffled her hair, and she giggled, looking up at him adoringly. "I want her to know that she can do anything she sets her mind to, just like her mom and me."

The room was silent, the cameras capturing the tender moment. You felt a tear slide down your cheek, and you quickly brushed it away, not wanting to distract from Joe's moment. You knew he meant every word, your family's love and support were what kept him going through every game.

As the press conference came to a close, Joe hoisted Amara up in the air, her giggles filling the room. He turned to the reporters, his smile never faltering. "Alright, that's all I got today. I have to get this one back to her mother."

They made their way back through the crowd, Joe's hand on Amara's back, guiding her through the throng of people. You felt a mix of excitement and fatigue, your body still buzzing from the win. The ride home was a blur of congratulatory texts and calls from friends and family. Honks from passing cars and shouts of "Who Dey!" filled the streets as they drove through the city.

At the house, Robin and Jimmy had already set the table with a spread of Joe's favorite post-game meal: a hearty pasta dish and garlic bread, with a bottle of wine chilling in an ice bucket for later. "We figured you'd be too tired to cook," Robin said, giving you a warm smile.

"You guys are the best," you said, looking over at Amara wrapped in Joe's arms. The little girl yawned and leaned her head on his chest, already nodding off to sleep.

"Let's get her to bed," Joe suggested, his own energy waning. "Thank you so much for this, Mom, Dad. It means a lot."

You took Amara from Joe's arms, cradling her sleeping form against her chest. "No problem," Jimmy said, patting his son on the back. "We're gonna head off to bed. But you two enjoy the rest of the night."

You climbed the stairs, whispering sweet nothings to keep Amara calm as Joe trailed along, his arm slung over your shoulder. In her room, you carefully laid your daughter down on the bed, whispering a final goodnight. Amara's eyes remained closed, her breathing deep and even. Joe leaned over to kiss his daughter's forehead.

"You okay?" You asked, looking into his tired eyes as you finally made your way up to your room after eating and clearing the dishes.

Joe nodded, his smile a bit weary. "Just can't believe we're going to the Super Bowl," he murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed. He stood up and took your hand, pulling you closer into his warm chest. "Thank you for being here, for supporting me through everything."

Your arms wrapped around his neck, heart swelling with love. "And I always will, baby," you said, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek. You felt the weight of the day's excitement slowly start to lift from your shoulders. The quiet of your room, the gentle hum of the city outside your windows, it was all you needed to feel at peace.

You changed into comfortable clothes, Joe slipping into a loose t-shirt and sweatpants while you donned your favorite oversized sweatshirt. You cradled Joe's head on your chest, fingers scratching at his scalp as he drifted in and out of sleep. His breathing grew deep and steady, the tension of the day slowly leaving his body.

#&. cassie writes.#joe burrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fanfic #cincinnati bengals #black!fem!reader #black!oc #black!reader #x black fem reader #x black reader #joeyb #jb9 #joe burrow x black!reader #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x oc

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majoryeager104 · 3 months ago

Note

dabi and hawks with a s/o when she gets flustered she starts rambling abt the most random things? :3 (also ty ffor doing my other request :333 lovemesomehotspiderdudehcs :3)

eee ofc and yw <3

Touya

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Touya is mesmerizing. He may have scars, he may be mutilated beyond repair, he may be a villain and a psycho and a million other things, but he’s mesmerizing. And he’s yours. This fact, to you, was equally lovely and frustrating. On one hand, you have someone who you can rely on, and who relies wholeheartedly on you, those pretty blue eyes staring into yours like you scattered the very constellations. On the other hand, those pretty blue eyes always looked to you. And you had no idea what to do about it.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

His voice almost startled you completely from your thoughts. The two of you had been laying in bed for ages; understandably so, as there wasn’t much else to do. Tomura said it’d be good for everyone to have a break, so here you were. Mind you, Touya had his grumblings about it, saying that the League took too many breaks, but you could tell by how his shoulders slumped as he spoke he really didn’t mind the idea of some rest.

Still, despite knowing so much about him, being able to read him so well, and being so close that he’d lay so trustingly with you for hours on end, you still had trouble speaking to him without completely blowing it. It’s hard not to, especially after he rolled over next to you, looking down at you with those pretty eyes, and that silly smile. He raised an eyebrow, bringing to your attention that you’d laid there quiet and staring for way too long. You furrowed your brow, a nervous smile crossing your face.

“Sharks”

You blurted this without much thought, blushing at how random and ridiculous you sounded. Touya raised his other brow as well, nodding. “…what about em?” He smiled a bit wider, like he just wanted to hear you talk, like he just wanted an excuse to get closer. That thought made you blush even more. “they’re cute” you replied, the blush on your face slowly deepening.

He chuckled, and you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched when he lifted a hand to card his fingers through your hair. “Cute huh? Never thought I’d hear someone say that about those things” he replied, his eyes filled with a fondness that made you feel so warm all over it was almost terrifying. “They’re not so bad” you replied, your voice quivering slightly under your own nerves.

He laughed again, before gently flicking your forehead and burying his face in the crook of your neck. A simple yet so daunting gesture that you froze up. “Tell me about it” he said quietly, sending a shiver down your spine. “Well… for one, they don’t…um, they rarely attack people… it’s just when they do it’s blown out of proportion…” you said nervously, stuttering over your words as one of his hands trailed up to your waist, tracing circles on your side.

“uh huh” he replied quietly, and you could feel his eyelashes fluttering shut against your skin as his breathing deepened ever so slightly, his weight against yours becoming less tense.

“the first victims of cancel culture” you joked breathlessly in an attempt to ease the tension in your own head. He laughed, kissing the side of your neck before cuddling closer, only making your situation worse. “That’s stupid” he replied quietly, but you could tell he was smiling.

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Keigo

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It had been a long day for Keigo. Between patrols and meetings, he’d been spread thin and swears to the media that he only managed to get through it all because of coffee. But there was one more thing that got him through tough days, something that got him rushing home each night that he didn’t tell the press, or anyone else really. And he was on the way to that reason now.

You found that leaving the door to the small balcony in your apartment unlocked was becoming routine- you can’t blame him for not wanting to take the stairs or the elevator, not with those big wings making the spaces more cramped then they already were. So he’d usually come in through the balcony, his entrance often not making a sound. He was always careful not to be too noisy, in case you were already asleep, which he found to be the case more often then not. But this time, you weren’t.

You stood in the kitchen doing late night chores, cleaning and putting dishes away so it wouldn’t be a hassle tomorrow. Keigo slipped in without a sound, having already quietly shut the door of the balcony when he turned and saw you. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t stare for a moment, just admiring you before a warm smile crossed his face.

Your back was turned to the door, so you didn’t notice him. At least, not until he was right behind you. He whistled, startling you just enough to make you gasp and turn around, relaxing when you saw it was him. He stood, leaning against the counter, that pretty smile of his lingering just for you.

That smile could win awards and yet you seemed to be the only person he ever wanted to show it to. That fact alone- that one of the most sought after people in the world said he ‘only had eyes for you’ and actually meant it- that fact could make anyone crumble, which happened to you frequently.

“hey sweets” he said quietly, tilting his head as he took a few steps closer. And so the crumbling begins. You smiled, your cheeks tinged pink as you took a moment to respond, your words failing you as you could only reply with a quick breathless “hi”

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. He was well aware of how flustered you’d get, and you were well aware of how much he enjoyed using that to his advantage. Couldn’t hurt to mess with you a little. “How was your day” he said softly in your ear. “Uhm.. it was great.. I.. how was yours” you fumbled nervously, wrapping your arms around his in return. “It was fine… but I wanna hear about yours” he replied coolly, trying to contain his teasing smirk.

“uh…well..” “anything interesting? Come on, spit it out” “I don’t know! I mean not much happened…I watched a few cat videos when I got home, I guess that was interesting..” you trailed off, laughing nervously as you looked back up at him, but at your reply, he gasped rather dramatically. “You were watching cat videos without me?!”

After that, seemed he forgot about trying to fluster you now. Plus, he pouted until you watched cat videos with him, but at least it gave you the chance to catch your breath.

✦••······················••✦•······················•✦••······················••✦

bro on one hand I feel like my writing is getting better but like at the cost of my sanity from how many times I’ve checked a dictionary to make sure I got a words definition right-

“sharks” (this was absolutely a projection)

also sorry this took me a hot minute 🙏 I had a really busy day yesterday

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reidmarieprentiss · 9 months ago

Note

Spencer comforting reader when there on their period and him being the cutie potato he is ty!🫶🫶

A Gentle Embrace

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, comfort

Warnings/Includes: periods, blood, embarrassment, showering together

Word count: 1.4k

a/n: this is an adorable idea !! thank you for the request <333 i hope this is something like what you wanted !!

main masterlist

Y/N gets her period, and it’s a monster one. She is cramping aggressively, her stomach aches, her back aches, and her head aches. She wakes up in a puddle of her blood, ruining Spencer's nice green sheets. Her emotions start to boil up; most of all, she’s embarrassed and mortified about how he will react. She tries to get out of bed without waking him up, and she's successful, but he catches a glimpse of her walking to the bathroom. He sees the blood on her shorts, soaking through to her thighs. His half-asleep brain freaks out at the sight of his girlfriend covered in blood.

"Y/N?? What happened? Are you okay?"

"Oh my god!" she yells, running into the bathroom and slamming the door.

Spencer immediately shoots up out of bed, now very worried about Y/N.

"Baby?" he softly knocks on the door, not knowing what’s going on. "What’s going on? Why were you bleeding?"

"Take a wild guess, genius."

Spencer ponders for a second before everything clicks. Realizing what’s going on, he feels a mix of relief and concern.

"Oh, Y/N, it’s okay," he says gently, trying to reassure her through the closed door. "I’ll change the sheets. Don’t worry about it."

Y/N sits on the edge of the bathtub, feeling tears of frustration and embarrassment welling up in her eyes. She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

"Spence, it’s so embarrassing," she says, her voice cracking. "I didn’t mean to ruin your sheets. I don’t want you to see that"

"Hey, it’s no big deal," Spencer responds softly. "It's just sheets. And I’m a doctor. I’m more worried about you. Do you need anything? Painkillers? A hot water bottle?"

“You’re not a medical doctor, babe.” There’s a pause before Y/N responds, her voice small and vulnerable. "Could you bring me some painkillers and a glass of water, please?"

"Of course," Spencer replies immediately. "I’ll be right back."

As he moves around the apartment, gathering what she needs, Spencer thinks about how he can make her feel better. He fills a glass of water, grabs the painkillers, and finds a heating pad. He also picks up one of his softest, cleanest T-shirts and a pair of boxers for her to change into.

Returning to the bathroom, he knocks gently again. "Y/N, I’ve got everything you need. Can I come in?"

There’s a moment of silence before she replies, "Yeah, come in."

Spencer enters the bathroom and hands her the painkillers and water. "Here you go."

"Thank you," she whispers, taking the pills and drinking the water.

Spencer sets the heating pad beside her and hands her the T-shirt. "I brought you something more comfortable to wear. Take your time, and I’ll get the bed ready," he says, his voice soft and reassuring.

“Spence?” Y/N’s voice is small and hesitant, as if she’s afraid to ask for more.

“Yeah, baby?” Spencer responds immediately, his eyes full of concern and love.

“Will you shower with me?” she asks, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability.

“Of course, my love,” Spencer replies without hesitation, his hand gently squeezing hers. “Can I change the sheets first?”

Y/N nods, feeling a rush of gratitude for her wonderful boyfriend. She looks up at him, her eyes brimming with gratitude and affection. "You’re being so sweet. I don’t deserve you," she murmurs, her voice thick with emotion.

Spencer crouches down to her level, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. His touch is tender, his eyes full of warmth. "You deserve everything, Y/N. Periods are tough, and I’m here for you. Always," he assures her, his voice steady and comforting.

She smiles weakly, feeling a bit better already. "I love you, Spencer," she says, her heart swelling with the emotion.

"I love you too," he replies, giving her a soft kiss on the forehead. "Now, let me change the sheets so we can shower. Why don’t you make sure the water is the right temperature?" he suggests, his tone gentle and encouraging.

Y/N nods again, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. She heads to the shower and turns on the water, adjusting it until it’s just right. The sound of the running water is soothing, a welcome distraction from her earlier embarrassment. Meanwhile, Spencer quickly strips the bed, working efficiently to replace the blood-stained sheets with fresh ones. His movements are brisk but careful, his mind focused on making everything perfect for her.

Once the bed is ready, Spencer joins her in the bathroom. He slips off his clothes and steps into the shower, where Y/N is already standing under the warm spray. She looks up at him, her eyes still showing traces of her earlier embarrassment, but also filled with trust and affection.

Spencer steps closer, wrapping his arms around her in a gentle hug. The warm water cascades over them, creating a soothing and intimate cocoon. "Feeling any better?" he asks softly, his breath warm against her ear.

"A little," she admits, resting her head against his chest. The steady beat of his heart is calming, a reminder that she’s not alone. "The water helps."

"I’m glad," he murmurs, kissing the top of her head. The simple gesture makes her feel cherished and loved. "Let’s get you cleaned up."

They take their time in the shower, Spencer being extra gentle as he helps her wash away the remnants of the rough morning. He massages her scalp as he shampoos her hair, his touch light and reassuring. Y/N feels the tension and discomfort slowly ebb away, replaced by a sense of comfort and safety.

After they’re both clean, Spencer helps Y/N out of the shower, wrapping her in a soft towel. He dries her off carefully, then helps her into the fresh T-shirt and boxers he had brought earlier. Y/N feels a profound sense of gratitude and love for him, more than words could express.

Luckily, Spencer had previously filled his bathroom with feminine products for Y/N, thinking it was unfair that she should have to pay for them and suffer once a month. He left her to tend to her business by herself. Once she returned to the bedroom Spencer makes sure Y/N is comfortable in bed, arranging the heating pad just right. He slides in beside her, pulling her close so she can rest her head on his chest once more.

"Thank you, Spencer," she whispers, her voice filled with emotion. The love she feels is almost overwhelming.

"Always," he replies, holding her tightly. His embrace is warm and secure, making her feel protected. "Do you want to watch a movie, baby? I grabbed my computer."

“You thought of everything, yes please. Can we watch How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days?” Y/N gave Spencer her best puppy eyes.

“Of course,” he chuckles, a playful glint in his eyes. “As long as you don’t get any ideas.”

“Never, my love,” she says, kissing him softly. The warmth of his lips against hers sends a comforting wave through her body, easing her anxiety.

As the movie starts playing in front of them, Spencer begins massaging Y/N’s lower stomach through the heating pad, his fingers working in gentle, soothing circles. The combination of the heat and his touch helps to further reduce her pain, making her feel more at ease.

Y/N snuggles closer to Spencer, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath her cheek. She glances up at him, noticing the way his eyes occasionally flicker from the screen to her, making sure she’s comfortable.

“Spence, you’re amazing,” she whispers, her voice filled with affection and gratitude.

He smiles down at her, his eyes warm and tender. “Anything for you, Y/N.”

They settle into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the movie filling the room. Y/N’s pain gradually subsides, replaced by a deep sense of contentment and love. As Spencer continues to massage her, she feels herself drifting off, the combination of his touch and the familiar movie lulling her into a peaceful state.

Spencer notices her eyelids growing heavy and shifts slightly to make her more comfortable. “You can sleep if you need to, baby,” he murmurs softly.

“Mm, just resting my eyes,” she replies, her voice drowsy.

He chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’m sure, love.”

Y/N lets out a contented sigh, feeling completely safe and cherished in Spencer’s arms. As she drifts off to sleep, Spencer continues to watch the movie. His hand still gently rubbing her stomach, a smile on his lips as he watches over the woman he loves.

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

a/n: also i would like to note that i did not choose how to loose a guy in 10 days because i assume people watch "chick flicks" (and who cares if you do) when they're on their periods ,, i chose it because it's been heavy on my mind lately and was the first movie i thought of lolol

#spencer reid fanfiction #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #fluff #comfort #criminal minds fluff #menstruation #period cramps #period comfort

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httpisuneh · 10 days ago

Note

i almost ascended in real time when i saw that you write for ice!! could i please request ice x reader where reader tends to be a little mean to ice bc that’s her humor but it highkey turns ice on LMAO i saw a comment on tt that was like “never not had a crush on a girl i hated” and i can’t stop thinking about it. ty for even reading this!!! sending you so much love mami <333

𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘—you're jokes come off as mean but ice doesn't mind.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒—mentions of y/n like once, self explanatory cliffhanger, uhhh idk

𝐑.𝐃.𝐍.—i got this request like...way too long ago. i hope i did it justice and i MIGHT make a part two 😞

anyone who didn’t know you and saw you around your friends would probably think you hated them. but anyone who’d been friends with you would simply just know that’s how you acted.

they all grew accustomed to responding back with something just as funny or brushing it off, but there was one friend who had a different reaction to it all. ice brady.

she never yelled at you or took it to heart, no. never that. her reaction was undecipherable, almost like she got a kick out of it all. you didn’t really notice until one day you found yourself going back and forth with kk.

“kk, the food isn’t going anywhere.” you muttered, face scrunched up as the girl next to you ate her food like it was running. “girl boo, i’m hungry!” she waved you off. “you’re eating like you had to work for it.” you pointed out.

“like you didn’t fight me for your fries!” kk exclaimed, mouth full of food. “because they were mine, fat ass.” you gestured towards myself while the girl simply rolled her eyes.

“sharing is caring, bro!” ice’s laugh took your attention away from her. “isuneh, i know that’s not you i hear laughing.” you stated, turning to face the girl. with a swipe of her tongue over her lower lip she spoke up, “and if i am?”

it’s almost like she wanted you to continue, enjoying it maybe. and you were never one to shy away from friendly banter which caused you to forget all about kk and your fries and start going back and forth with ice.

for every smart remark, she seemed unphased and replied just as quick, grin widening.

eventually, your mouth began to grow dry the longer you argued and you realized ice wasn’t giving up. “shut up.” you huffed, shaking your head. “make me.” you kind of set yourself up for that.

“oh, you got y/n giving up!” aubrey called out, laughing as you stood up to throw your trash away. “please, i could go for hours.” you stated, silently hoping she wouldn’t take you up on it because your mouth felt like a drought.

“careful, i might take you up on that.”

“pause?” paige spoke, raising her eyebrows. “your face is literally red from laughing so hard, shut up.”

from there, you started to develop feelings towards her. you weren’t sure what they were, but (like any other person would to keep the plot rolling for this fic to be at least a thousand words) you ruled them out as hate. it was better than talking about them and you didn’t plan to.

but ice made that really fucking difficult. she was always openly staring at you or making dirty jokes that seemed too detailed to be for laughs.

you could recall the time you were arguing about who would sit next to caroline who was sleeping peacefully and not next to kk who was snoring and would be full of energy later on a flight.

you’d won the argument of course, ending it with something along the lines of “you run your mouth too much.”

and like other times, ice just smiled before leaning down even though she didn’t need to—constantly holding the fact that she had a few inches up on you over your head—before whispering “i can do a lot of other things with my mouth.”

she laughed in your face once she saw your impression in which you shoved her shoulder and moved away.

it was then you noticed, ice didn't get a kick out of you arguing with her—instead, she was visibly turned on by it. it was small things, like the glint in her eyes that resembled excitement and something else or the way she'd have to bite back a grin.

but then it was the way she'd grip the closest object near her or squeeze her thighs shut like if she didn't have any restraint and decorum, she'd take you wherever you were in front of whoever you were with.

things didn't change until a celebration between the team that'd happened in you and azzi's dorm. bottles of alcohol and faint smoke exiting through the window that was slightly ajar floated through the room and one of paige's playlist played loudly on the TV.

vibes were high, you were higher, and suddenly starting to question every feeling you had. ice looked good—too good, and the influence you were under had you criticizing your own thoughts and everything she did.

your spot on the couch seemed to be enveloping you as you leaned further into the cushions. ice plopped next to you and usually paige would've pointed it out, but she seemed too busy rapping along to the music with kk to even notice.

“why aren't you up and having fun?” she questioned, just slightly loud over the music but it's not like anyone was sober enough to comprehend what she'd said to you.

“i am having fun.” you shot back quickly. “no, you're being boring.” she corrected as if she had all the answers, and with the way she was staring at you, she might've.

“and you're being fucking annoying.” there it was. she shifted in her seat, legs spreading a little more in a way that had heat coursing through your body. “yeah?” she questioned, glancing from the once clear liquid in her cup now doused with orange juice to you.

“tell me more.” her tone was something between a breathless whisper and a husky statement and it made you ultimately sit up. and you did, tell her how she aggravated you sometimes and others you tolerated her.

you told her how mad it made you when she was being smug, like she knew you inside and out like your life was some shakespeare play that she'd watched, studied, and enjoyed all day.

you didn't tell her about the warm feeling she created that wasn't the result of blushing but instead something more lustful. you didn't tell her how good she looked even when she was fresh out of sleep. you didn't tell her how seeing her in little to no clothing in the locker room had you ready to see more.

but she stared at you like she knew.

one by one, your teammates began to leave. kk, kaitlyn, and sarah were first to go. sarah happened to be ultimately tired and kk’s words were beyond slurred, kaitlyn took the initiative of deciding to leave.

aubrey, morgan, jana, and allie were next—aubrey suddenly remembering she had an assignment nowhere near done that was due the following night, morgan tagging along because they'd planned to watch movies that happened to be the highlight of their childhood while trying to at least get started on said assignment.

jana and allie found themselves with them because they'd noticed the lingering stares between azzi and paige that let them know if they went back to their shared dorm they were getting absolutely zero sleep.

carol, ashlynn, and ayanna were next, simply just tired. then as expected, azzi and paige could no longer take it and decided they needed each other right then, speeding out of the dorm and eventually, the only two left were you and ice.

“so you really hate me?” ice asked, a smirk dancing on her lips. “call it what you want.” you shrugged, shoulder brushing against her own which made you notice just how close you two had shifted towards one another.

“what if i called it a crush?” she asked, making you turn towards her quickly. “what?” you questioned and her smirk widened. “you heard me. i think you have lil’ crush on me.” she admitted. you didn't answer and silently hoped your heartbeat that sounded a little too loud wasn't actually audible.

“you’re delusional.” was all you said. you think it’s one of the first times ice has left you speechless. you couldn’t think of a response if you tried—the idea of even liking ice stripping every thought from your brain.

“am i really?” she asked. you didn't answer and that was enough of a response for her. you're not sure who leaned in first, or if it was both of you, but somewhere in that split second your lips met.

messy, intense, and you're pretty sure it's more tongue than lips touching. ice tasted like desire and something sweet and her grip on your waist seemed tighter than a corset’s.

you pulled back first to catch your breath but you were back on her in seconds, catching you and her off guard. it was like the denial of thinking you could never want ice left your body as you made out. the move from the couch to her lap was sudden, but you definitely weren't complaining.

the scene was mouthwatering and the burst of sensuality had you feeling bold. your lips moved from her own to her jaw, kissing at a rate that was too slow to be rushed but too fast to be hesitant.

ice's breath hitched as you moved further down her neck and she gasped once your teeth grazed over a certain spot. “you're full of shit.” she mumbled making you pull back. “you tried to say you didn't like me, now look at you.”

you let out a groan, reaching for the hem of your shirt. “would you shut up?” ice didn't answer immediately, smiling as she did the same. “nah, i like pissing you off.”

#ri writes 🖨️#ice brady smut #ice brady x reader #uconn x reader #uconn wbb x reader #wbb x reader #wbb #uconnwbb #ice brady fic #ice brady #wbb fic

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heavenlyvision · 1 year ago

Note

ahh yay !! okay sooo… vamp!Tomas x fem!reader where tomas and the reader both like each other but never really said anything because they are both shyyy but after tomas gets turned by nitara tomas becomes a lot more cockier and confident causing him to cockily confess his feelings !! (smut? 🤍)

ty lovely and ofc have a good day/night <3

I love this request! I have written far more for it than I initially thought I was going to, I got carried away and couldn’t stop writing. I hope you like it anon! Thank you for gracing my inbox <333 sorry it took me so long to fulfil this request. I wish you a lovely day/night and I hope this lives up to your expectations :)

Dearest

Wc: 6k

Pairing: Vamp!Tomas x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angsty for like a minute, thigh grinding, cunnilingus (over the panties 🤭), p in v sex, creampie, spanking (1), I think that is all :)

Harbouring an unrequited crush for a man that you would describe as one of your closest friends is one of the most difficult things you’ve had to do in your adult life, and you have not had an easy life. So, it feels a little bit ridiculous how trying this has been for you.

Tomas is someone you hold in high regard, his skills, his generosity, his kindness in spite of his losses, you could ramble on about him and all the reasons you like him forever. Unlucky for his brother Kuai Liang, that means you torture him with your seemingly endless growing affections.

“He brought me back my favourite–”

“–Yes, I know, I was there with him.” Kuai Liang sighs, this is the third time you’ve brought up Tomas in the last ten minutes.

Tomas had brought you back your favourite baked goods on his last trip into town, it made your chest feel full with how kind the action was. He remembered your favourite treat, and he went out of his way to get it. He thinks about you, even when you aren’t with him.

“I’m sorry Kuai, I’m just really happy.” You feel embarrassed about how much you’re gushing, but you can’t help it. There is no one else you can talk to about this, and you need to talk about it with someone.

“It’s fine, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” he smiles apologetically at you, “but you know, you should just tell him how much you like him.”

“I can’t do that! What if he doesn’t like me back? And then I’ve ruined our friendship over my silly feelings.” There’s too much for you to lose if you confess to him.

Kuai Liang refrains from a deep eye roll, he’s about to say something but Tomas walks up to you both.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?” He’s just finished some training with Hanzo, he looks tired.

Kuai sits and says nothing, waiting for you to answer him, “We’re just hanging out, drinking tea.” You motion the teacup up at him to see.

He nods his head, smiling at you, “Got enough for me?”

Kuai pours him a cup before getting up, “I’ve got to go meet with Harumi, thanks for the tea.” He nods his head down at you and pats Tomas on the shoulder as he walks away.

“Thank you,” you tell him in reference to the gift he brought back.

He moves to sit down next to you on the bench, “No thanks necessary, I knew it was your favourite, and I was in the area.”

He lied just now, Kuai had told you that they would’ve been home an hour earlier, but he went out of his way to find your favourite bakery.

You take a sip of your tea, smiling into the cup and humming your reply to him.

You ask, “How did training go?”

“Well, Hanzo is improving fast, I am sure it won’t take him long to beat me in a fight,” he chuckles, his pride in Hanzo displayed in it.

“I am sure he could, though I am sure I could beat you in a fight too.” You’re teasing, you are capable but not on par with Tomas.

He smiles at you, “You probably would win but I think that’s because you would play dirty.”

“Absolutely,” he knows you too well, any way to win.

You both sit and drink tea while talking, until you run out of tea, and then you’re both just talking. It gets late quickly but you both never seem to run out of things to say, and even when you do, you’ll say anything just to be able to talk to him for a little bit longer.

“I should probably head to bed now, it’s getting late,” you tell Tomas, hours have passed since he sat down.

He looks into your eyes, like he has something pressing to tell you but eventually settles on saying, “Okay, thank you for tea.”

“Thank you for my treats,” you lean into his side, and he holds you there. Both engaged in a side hug.

“You are most welcome, dearest.”

The way he calls you dearest makes your heart rate spike; he makes you feel like you are genuinely dear to him, and it makes you giddy.

You move past it, “I will see you tomorrow?” you ask him, mouth muffled in his shirt.

He replies, “Yes but it might be late, Kuai and I both have to help Lui Kang with something.”

So vague with his missions, trying to shield you from the truth you suppose. You always end up asking Kuai about them anyways, and he tells you, so there isn’t really any point in keeping it from you. It’s sweet that he cares to try though.

“Be safe.” You tell him.

“Always.”

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

That was the last time you saw Tomas, he left for his mission and Kuai came back alone. It’s something that haunts you, you remember how distraught you were. You were told he was turned by Nitara, which means he’s out there somewhere, you just don’t know where. Don’t know what he’s doing. But your home feels empty and lifeless these days.

All you do is spend the days waiting for the next, an endless, mind-numbing cycle. Kuai and Harumi visit you often, checking in on you, making tea. They’re worried about you, you know that. But you’re worried about Tomas.

Lui Kang and Kuai Liang have been putting a copious amount of effort into finding Tomas, wanting to help him, but Tomas doesn’t want to be found. And he’s making it abundantly clear. Leaving a trail of half dead people, that have messages from him, telling them to stop looking.

This isn’t something you learnt from Kuai; you’ve heard the whispers in the village about it though. Kuai has now picked up Tomas’ old habit of not telling you the extent of things, but you can read between the lines. Tomas is moving closer to the Shirai Ryu’s village, for what reason you don’t know but you feel conflicted about it. You want to see him, but he is not Tomas anymore, not really. Not the man you…

…The bond between yourself and Tomas had always been unbreakable, at least you thought it had been. With the way things are now, you don’t know who will be standing in front of you, if you ever see him again.

Due to Tomas’ movements getting closer to the village people have been assigned to keep tabs on you. Kuai hasn’t said anything, but people roam outside your house now, frequently. All hours, they will stroll by, you think they aren’t meant to be noticed but when you live with ninja’s long enough, you start to notice them. You appreciate the consideration, but it’s not needed, even if he does show, you’ll handle it yourself.

There’s a knock on your door, three polite raps against the solid wood. Right on time, 3pm in the afternoon. Every day, you get visited by Kuai, sometimes with Harumi, sometimes with Hanzo, but more often than not, alone.

Sighing you move from your couch to the door and pull it open, “Afternoon, Kuai.”

You pull it open the whole way, allowing his large frame to move past you. He walks into the kitchen and starts boiling some water.

“Good afternoon,” he replies.

The afternoon with him carries out the same way it has for the past couple months, he talks to you, trying to get you to open up. You turn it on him and try to get him to talk, about how he’s feeling, about Tomas’ last sighting, his plans for if they find him. But just like yourself, he doesn’t disclose anything. So, you both end up drinking tea in silence, mention the weather and then part ways.

Some days he is more stubborn than others, he stays longer, pushing you harder, he’s feeling that way this afternoon.

“I know you must be upset and missing him; you can talk to me about him, it might help.” He presses you; he’d love to hear you talk about Tomas the way you used to.

It makes you sad to talk about him though, “I don’t have anything to say Kuai, you know that.”

“That is a little hard to believe,” there is humour in his voice, it pulls a small smile from you.

It is rather ironic, going from never being able to shut up about him, to never talking about him.

“I appreciate the concern, but I am fine,” you lie.

He knows and he looks at you, eyebrow raised, “You are not.”

“No… I’m not but neither are you.”

“I suppose not.” He sighs and takes a sip of his tea.

You think now is your time to mention, “Could you stop sending people to watch my house, it’s annoying and unnecessary.”

“I think it necessary,” he shoots back, but he caves a little, “I will send less and less frequently, but they will still watch out for you.”

You go to argue further, “I really don’t think it’s–”

“–I am not willing to compromise further on this matter.” He cuts you off.

“Fine.” You concede, too tired to argue with him. Always too tired.

He seems pleased with the progress he’s made with you though, finally getting you to budge the slightest bit. Admitting that you are not fine is enough for him today. He leaves with no argument, and you sit back on your couch, enjoying your solidarity.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

You’re in the shower when you hear someone rummaging around your living room, annoying, you think to yourself. It’s probably someone checking on you, though it’s odd they’re inside your house.

Wrapping yourself in a towel, you move through the ensuite and into your bedroom. Locating the sword you keep hung on the wall, if it’s not someone checking up on you, you may need protection. You pull it down, keeping it sheathed. Slowly you move towards the living area where the noise is coming from.

You sneak through the house as quietly as possible and come up behind the intruder, hands on the sword, ready to unsheathe it and strike if necessary. But then you realise the silhouette of the intruder is very familiar.

He turns around and faces you, a faux shocked look on his face, pretending to be frightened by you holding a sword.

Your voice comes out far more timid than you would’ve liked, “Tomas?”

“Ah, you caught me.” He holds his arms up in surrender, sly grin plastered on his face.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, I came to visit you, dearest.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing, as if he’s questioning you questioning his presence.

Your eyes squint at him, “Don’t call me that.”

“You never use to mind it,” his face twists into a fake sad expression.

You’re still in an attack stance, “That was then, I don’t know who you are now.”

“Please put the sword down, it really isn’t frightening, especially since you’re in nothing but a towel.” His eyes look you up and down, appreciating your scantily clad body in a fluffy towel.

Your lip pulls up into a grimace, “Don’t look at me, turn around.”

He waves a hand at you dismissively, “Chill out, I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Why are you here?” You’re quick to reply.

His presence is genuinely confusing, he didn’t want to be found by his own brother, but he came back here to break into your house and look at your living room furnishings?

“Like I said, I’m here to see you, I’ve missed you dearly… dearest.” He flashes you a cheeky smile.

He’s different, not right, not… himself. It’s uncanny and off putting to you. He is not the same kind man you called your best friend.

“I don’t believe you.”

His smile drops, “I know, but I’m not lying.”

He moves towards you, but you take a step back, hand pulling on the handle of the sword, ready to unsheathe it. He stops at your reaction; and rolls his eyes dramatically.

“I really am not going to hurt you, I wanted to give you that,” his head motions towards your side table, your favourite baked goods sitting atop it.

Your eyes round in shock, why would he go to the effort? You stop your thoughts before they get too hopeful, he could be trying to lure you into a false sense of security, and it might work. He looks mostly the same, not quite right but his likeness is there. He’s pale, bloody, an odd marking on his forehead, and fangs you can spot when he speaks, but the same.

It’s confusing you; you want to be happy to see him, but you don’t want to let yourself feel it if he isn’t quite right. If he’s going to hurt you or worse. You are happy he’s alive though, there might be a way to help him.

“Why did you bring me that?” You ask, also motioning towards the treats on the table.

“Because they’re you’re favourite,” he shrugs, “can you please put the sword down, this is getting a bit ridiculous.”

You have a baffled look on you face, “You’re the one breaking and entering??”

“Hey! I didn’t break anything.” He looks offended, hand on his chest. He sighs and rolls his eyes again, “I don’t know what to offer you here to make you feel better, dear.”

“I don’t really know either.” You consider what would make you feel better about him, other than him leaving. “Getting dressed… would make me feel better.”

“I don’t mind if you don’t.” He’s flirting with you, brazenly.

“Stay here… or leave… but don’t follow me.”

He has a bored look on his face, but he shrugs in agreeance.

At his reaction you begin backing away slowly, watching him as you leave the room. He tilts his head curiously at you as you do. When you can no longer see him, you shuffle quickly to your room.

You rustle through drawers to find clothes, settling on pants and a t-shirt. Something you can move around in if you end up having to defend yourself. You pick up your sword and exit your bedroom.

As you come back into the living area you see him sitting on an armchair in the corner, the one facing your larger couch. You move around the furniture to sit on said couch facing him. Your posture a stark contrast to his, you’re sitting up straight and alert. While he is lounging, legs spread wide, spine reclined against the back of the armchair. He’s fully relaxed and you’re… not.

“Still have the sword I see,” he notes.

Your grip tightens on the hilt, “I am not ready to trust you.”

“No, I wouldn’t think you would be.” His head rolls to the side quickly, listening, “are you expecting guests?”

You know what he’s hearing, your friendly watchers must be coming by to check on you.

“Kuai Liang started assigning people to come by my house, I didn’t understand why previously, I do now.” You reply casually with a wave of your hand.

“Mmm, he is taking care of you?” His question seems loaded, like he might be simultaneously pleased and displeased at the same time, no matter your response.

“Yes, he comes by regularly to check on me, he is worried.” You answer honestly, based on his hearing he’d probably be able to tell if you lied to him.

His eyes squint slightly, his reaction telling you nothing about his thoughts or feelings, “You going to alert them of my presence?”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

He seems a little confused, “Why not?”

“I’m not getting any information from Kuai anymore, he tells me nothing. If I let them take you, I doubt I’ll be updated of anything.”

“Very serious like this, you used to be much kinder to me.”

Your eyebrows raise at him, “I could say the same to you.”

“Fair enough,” he smiles at you, still eyeing you even though you are nowhere near as undressed as earlier.

“Stop it,” you tell him.

His gaze climbs up your body and then back onto your eyes, “Stop what?”

“Stop that,” your hand waves in circles around his face, referencing the way he’s been looking at you.

His head leans to the side, “Why?”

Your eyebrows pinch together, “Because I don’t know what it means.”

“I like you, is what it means.” His smile is as sweet as he can muster, it’d be sweeter if he didn’t have fangs.

Huh? Huh? What the hell? He likes you, is that possible? You must have the most bewildered expression on your face because he begins chuckling at you.

“Don’t laugh!” You’re frowning at him now.

“Sorry, sorry…” He waves his hand at you, “I didn’t think you’d look so confused, you’ve just made a very cute face.”

You sigh deeply, he’s making your heart rate pick up, you need to control it, “I don’t believe you.” You say in reference to his declaration.

“Yeah, you keep saying that, but it’s the truth. I came back to see you because I miss you and I miss you because I like you. I always have.” His confession is making you feel flushed. He’s saying things you would’ve liked to have heard ages ago.

“Why? Why tell me this now?”

“Was too scared to tell you before, now it doesn’t matter as much, our friendship isn’t exactly in a great place, no?” He gestures to his whole being with his hands, as if to demonstrate the reason for that.

“I don’t see myself trusting you, I hope you know that.” Honestly, mutual trust isn’t something you can foresee in both your futures.

But that’s obviously the opposite for Tomas, “I am pretty confident that I can change your mind, I got your heart rate to rise earlier. My confession bring up some hidden feelings?”

You’re interested, “How do you plan on changing my mind?” You ignore the second part of his sentence.

“I will come by as often as I have to, for as long as I have to, until you trust me again.” He seems earnest at least, but you don’t know if you have rose tinted glasses on when it comes to him.

“Do as you please, I have a feeling you’re going to anyways.” You huff at him, spine becoming less rigid.

He smiles at you, eyes bright, “I appreciate the permission, anyhow.”

His visit ends quickly after that last conversation, having made headway with you made him pleased enough to leave. He did promise he would be back the next night, and the night after that, and so on, and so forth. The promise thrills you, much to your contention.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

Tomas stayed true to his promise, he comes by, every night without fail and has been doing so for the last few months. He never stopped flirting with you the whole time, making his affection for you perfectly clear. There are only so many ways you can brush him off and change topics though.

He sniffs the air, “I hate how much Kuai comes around, always smells like him in here, ruins your scent.”

Your eyes roll at him, “Well, he’s about as stubborn as you are about visiting. Must run in the family.”

You stopped holding your sword every time he came round about a month into his visits, believing he probably wasn’t going to bodily harm you. It was never far from you though, now it stays in the lounge, not close but not far. He has succeeded in slowly building some trust between the two of you.

In the kitchen you’re waiting for the kettle to boil, Tomas comes up behind you. Leaning down he inhales your scent, not so close to touch but close enough to have your heart pounding in your chest.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Smelling you.”

“Yeah, I can see that, why are you sniffing me?”

“You smell nice,” he’s still standing close to you, chest brushing your back.

You turn around and place a palm on his chest, aiming to push him back but he doesn’t budge. His hand comes up and he places it over top of your own. His eyes looking intently into yours, as you’re looking up at him, you’re struck with the realisation that your feelings for him haven’t left you. He’s changed and so have your feelings, but you still like him.

His eyes flit down to your lips, he begins moving in closer to you. Giving you ample time to pull away if you don’t want him to kiss you. You don’t know if kissing him is a good idea, but it doesn’t matter anyways, the kettle starts squealing, alerting you of its boiled status.

His hand lets go of yours, the moment ruined. You turn quickly, feeling like your face is on fire. Happy to be able to hide your face from him, though you know he can definitely hear your beating heart working overtime.

You take the kettle off the stove and make a cup of tea for both you and Tomas, he never drinks it, but he asks for it every time and holds it for the entirety of his visit.

Later, after tea, as you’re washing up Tomas stands beside you. Ever since your guard dropped enough to let him get this close to you, he stays as close as you’ll allow. Always right by you, flirting, joking, watching.

“Do you want me to wash up?” He offers.

“No, thank you.” You continue, scrubbing at your dishware.

When you’re done you go to wipe your hands off, drying them. Tomas grabs you and spins you abruptly, a shocked gasp pulling from you at his speed and strength.

“I like you.” Is all he says.

Your eyes are wide with shock, “You’ve already said so.”

“I just had to tell you again, so you know.”

“You tell me every day, and you relentlessly flirt with me,” you remind him.

“Just checking you haven’t forgotten.”

“You don’t make that possible,” you raise a brow at him.

“That’s the idea,” he smiles cheekily at you.

His eyes dip to your lips again, the moment from earlier being recreated. You turn your head to the side, feeling shy under his watchful gaze.

“Your heart is racing,” he comments, moving his hand to tuck a stray hair behind your ear.

“I know, it is my heart.” You feel flush in the face.

He leans a bit closer, “And how does your heart feel about me?”

Ah, he’s fishing today. He has been very patient, not asking you your feelings towards him but he is curious. Especially since he can tell you enjoy his advances, or at least react to them viscerally.

“I reserve the right to not answer that.” You feel as though you’re being interrogated.

He finds your answer entertaining, “I think… you like me too, but you’re still not convinced you can trust me.”

Yep, he’s pretty much hit the nail on the head, and he knows it. You go to answer him, try to cover for yourself but he’s quicker with his words.

Tone growing glib, he taunts, “Mmm, yeah, that was dead on, huh?”

His large hand come up and pulls your face back to his, holding you by your chin, between his thumb and forefinger. He tilts your face up, looking you directly in the eyes.

“Look at me and tell me, that you don’t like me.”

“I don’t like you,” you reply simply.

He scoffs, “Liar, I’ve grown on you.”

“Like a tumour, maybe,” you retort back.

He has a small smile on his face, “Now who is being stubborn?”

“Somehow, still you.” Your expression is one of defiance.

He rolls his eyes at you and groans, before grabbing your head on either side and pulling you into a kiss. It’s full and profound, and as he moves his head to the side, he licks into your mouth, deepening the kiss. A shocked mewl coming from you, one that he swallows down greedily.

Your heart feels like it might explode in your chest, and as he pulls away, he makes a note of it.

His forehead rests against yours, smiling cockily he asks, “Still don’t like me?”

“No,” you shake your head against him.

He captures your lips in another lustful kiss, devouring you whole, consuming the noises that escape you. Common sense eludes you, his kisses making you dizzy and unable to think properly. He walks you back into the corner of the kitchen bench, still cradling your face. Your hands coming up behind you, resting on the bench top. As a result, your chest presses further into him.

One of his knees slots between your legs, pinning you to the spot. His kisses take your breath away and you have to pull back to breathe. Huffing slightly at his insistent manner of kissing.

“Seems to me, that you like me.” He states.

“You’re mistaken.” You retort.

His head moves to your neck, inhaling the length of it, “it smells like you like me.”

Low blow on his behalf, his observation of your growing arousal for him makes your skin set alight. An embarrassing observation for him to make and he knows it. His thigh slots higher, resting up against your cunt. The contact makes you jump lightly, your teeth biting your lip to stifle your audible reaction.

His hands move to your hips as he leans down and kisses you again. His lips serving as a distraction so he can use the grip he has on your hips to encourage you to grind down on his thigh. You get lost in the feeling, the stimulation sending jolts of pleasure up your spine, the sounds you make spilling from you freely.

He rips his mouth away from you suddenly, before you can complain he pulls your pants down, you step out of them. Standing in front of him in nothing but your shirt and panties. He drops to his knees in front of you, pulling your thighs apart, just enough so his face can fit between your legs. His nose resting up against your pussy over your panties, he inhales deeply.

You gasp out at him, “Tomas!”

“Mmmsorry, you smell so fucken good.” He speaks against your cunt, muffling his words.

This display is mortifying to you and also serving to fuel your arousal. He hums pleasantly at your reaction. His mouth opens, sucking over your underwear, wetting them further. His thumbs pull your pussy lips apart, giving himself more access to your arousal. He’s lapping at your hole over your underwear, nose rubbing up against your clit as he licks at you.

You’re squirming above him, gasping for air at the pleasure he’s giving you. He grows more fervent against you, your cunt leaking from the pleasure. The smell and taste of you sending him into a frenzy. He doesn’t stop making out with your cunt over your underwear. Your legs are borderline shaking with your building orgasm.

“Tomas – ngh,” you’re trying to warn him of your impending orgasm.

One of your hands reaches for his hair, grabbing on, your hips beginning to faintly grind against his face. He doesn’t pull away to acknowledge your words, just continues slurping at your cunt, humming at you in confirmation.

The noises spilling from you reach a higher pitch, coming closer together. Your eyes are wet as they close tight against the intensity of your orgasm. When you cum it’s with a bite of his name followed by a large inhale of breath. Legs shaking, if he had not been gripping your thighs, you would’ve fallen to the floor in front of him.

He doesn’t stop as you cum, or even after, continuing to lick at you enthusiastically, aftershocks running through your veins. You twitch at the continued stimulation he provides. He growls against you, an inhuman sound that spikes your heart rate, and your excitement.

The sight of him between your legs, gripping your thighs open and feasting on your wet cunt could have you passing out. He huffs frustrated against you, and he rips your underwear off, actually tearing them off your body. You can’t even complain because he’s put his mouth back on your bare cunt. Drinking up all of the slick and cum from your cunt, he’s licking you clean, you might actually faint.

Tugging at his hair harsher, you push him back, “mm sensitive, stop.” You gasp out at him, words slurred together slightly.

Thankfully, he pulls away but stays on his knees, watching you quiver in front of him. His mouth finished eating you, but his eyes haven’t. He inhales one last time before standing up in front of you.

Cocky smile plastered on his face, “Divine, let me continue?”

You shake your head at him, “No, I will actually faint.”

He preens at that, delighted by your answer, “Are you ready to admit you like me?”

“No,” stubborn for no reason at this point. It’s clear to the both of you, you definitely like him.

He chuckles dryly at you, and then he’s spinning you around and pushing your upper half against the bench top. His hands run over your body, down your back and over your ass cheeks, he pulls them back to stare at your cunt, he whistles at the sight of it. And you struggle against him, humiliated by his actions.

“Will you let me fuck your tight pussy?”

You feel red and raw, his direct question mortifying you, mortifying you because, “yes.” You will let him.

He lets out an amused sound that turns into a growl at the sight of you bent over and waiting for him. Rustling can be heard from behind you as he pulls out his cock. He runs it through your folds, using your cunts prior orgasm to lube it. You rock back against him, rutting down on his dick. It sends shudders down your spine, the pleasure already plenty and he’s not inside you.

“Hold still,” he holds his hand on your back firmly, keeping you in place.

His other hand on his cock, running his tip through your folds before notching it at your hole. Slowly splitting you in two.

All he lets out is, “fffff–”

You clench at the stretch, clamping down on his cock.

“–UCK!” He lets out at your tightening pussy, “gotta relax, or I’ll never – nghf – make it inside.”

You’re mewling and barely the tip is inside you, his hand reaches down and around to rub at your clit, trying to get you to relax.

“Thasss it, dear, fucken perfect… jus. like. that,” he sighs as you relax a bit.

He’s able to have his whole tip enter you, and then he starts rocking back and forth slowly, trying to fuck you open on the tip of his dick. Your legs already shaking and he’s not even close to halfway inside you.

He begins fucking his cock into you more, incrementally, it has pleasure wracking your body. Taking his time, rocking in and then out, slightly more in and then out, rinse and repeat. Until he’s finally fully seated inside you. The full feeling overwhelming you, you grind back against him, wanting more of the feeling.

“Tomas–”

“Hold still, and if it’s – hah – too much, tap me, okay?” He asks.

You nod your head at him, but he slaps your ass and says, “Words, dearest.”

“I will tap you if it’s too much – jus please – mmmmove.” You’re wiggling back against him, trying to gain some friction.

Both his hands pull your ass cheeks apart again, gazing down at the way you’re wrapped around him. A deep growl coming from inside his chest at the sight. Pulling back almost all the way out, he slams back into you, jolting your body forward against the counter. You have a feeling you’re going to have all kinds of bruises tomorrow morning.

He’s fucking you in earnest, roughly, inhuman and pleased noises coming from him. A wet slapping filling your kitchen along with your mewls and whines. You brace yourself on the counter and begin fucking yourself back on his cock.

His hand moves up your body and grabs at the back of your neck, he pulls you up, holding you flush against his chest. Your head resting back against his shoulder. He’s fucking up into you, the change in position sliding you further down his dick.

The hand that pulled you up goes to the front of your neck, applying no pressure but holding you steady. His free arm moves from your hip to the front of your body, holding you against him, hand groping at your tit. His fingers pinch and play with your nipple, your cunt squeezing down on him at the sensation.

“Tell me, do you like mmme – ngh – now?” He whispers it against your ear, lips brushing the shell of it. It sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps breaking out across your skin.

“Mmmmaybe – mmph – a little…” You confess.

He laughs and licks your ear, his thrusts never stopping or slowing. Your cunt starts to rhythmically pulse around his cock, you’re so close to cumming on just his cock, a sensation you’ve not felt before. Previously always cumming with the help of stimulation on your clit.

He taunts you, “Go on, cream all over – mmph – me, can feel you squeezing mmme.”

“Hah – Mm gonna–” You’re cumming, hard, on his dick. Your release creating a white ring around the base of his cock.

His hands move to push you back against the bench top again, he needs to see the way you came all over him. He spreads your cheeks again to watch himself fuck you, to see the way you creamed all over him. Mesmerised by your cunt and the way it takes him; he’s chasing his own high now.

He’s fucking you harshly, aiming to topple headfirst into his own pleasure. You clamp down on him, pulling his own orgasm from him suddenly. He cums with a shout of your name and a string of profanities. Filling your cunt to the brim with his release, he continues thrusting, stuffing all his cum back into your pussy. He groans at the sight, dick twitching inside you.

He pulls out of you slowly; he tugs his pants back on before spinning you around and placing you up on the bench. He wets some napkins from your kitchen with warm water and gently wipes your thighs clean.

His fingers push some of the cum leaking out of your cunt back inside, “Keep that there.” He tells you.

You hold your hand over your pussy, as he runs down the hall and comes back with a fresh pair of underwear. He slides them up your legs and uses them to help keep his cum inside you. Your legs are shaking from the come down, eyes wet and dazed. You’d let him do almost anything to you right now, with the way he’s given you the two best orgasms of your life, you think he might’ve earned it.

You watch him move around your kitchen, he finds your previous pair of underwear and stuffs them inside his pocket. He looks back at you and smiles deviously. Then he moves to get you a glass of water.

He presents it to you, “Drink.”

You accept it gratefully, feeling parched, you drink it all. It dribbles down your chin with how you gulp it down. He smiles at you and wipes your chin clean.

“I don’t think I can walk,” you tell him.

He’s smug, “Need me to carry you to bed, dearest?”

“If you’d be so kind.”

He obliges and carries you to bed, tucking you in. He won’t stay and he shouldn’t stay, though you find yourself hoping he would.

“I’ll stay until you fall asleep,” he says, practically reading your mind. He crawls into bed beside you, on top of the covers.

“Thank you, Tomas.”

He smiles kindly at you, “No thanks necessary.”

You fall asleep quickly that night. Fully trusting him and even feeling safe with him beside you. When you wake the next morning, he is gone but he’s left a note.

It reads, “I’ll be back tonight, dearest.”

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

A/N: This is not my best writing, but I find myself a bit fond of it, maybe because it’s a different character, a bit of a change up is nice. I did write almost an extra 3k than what I initially planned lmao. I find the need to add more plot in my stories. Anyways, thank you for reading! I hope you all enjoyed, my requests are open if you want a story like this one or if you want to share any thoughts, feelings, anything really, I am open for asks!! <333

#ask vision #tomas x reader #tomas vrbada #tomas x reader smut #tomas vrbada x reader smut #smoke x reader #smoke x reader smut #fanfic #tomas x you #mk1 smut #smut #mk1 2023

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