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pucksandpower · 7 days

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Made with Love

Charles Leclerc x amateur baker!Reader

Summary: in which Charles would rather risk the entire paddock getting food poisoning (again) than break your heart by telling you that your baking is horrible

You hum to yourself as you pull a tray of freshly baked cupcakes out of the oven. The sweet, chocolaty aroma fills Charles’ kitchen, making your mouth water.

This batch is sure to be perfect! You’ve been practicing your baking skills for months now, determined to get it just right.

Charles wanders into the kitchen, drawn by the scent. “Mmm, something smells good in here!”

He peers over your shoulder at the tray of cupcakes. They’re a bit misshapen, with cracked tops that deflated the second they were taken out of the oven. The frosting is glopped on unevenly.

To you, they look absolutely mouthwatering. To Charles, they look … well, he loves you too much to say.

“Try one!” You urge, holding out a cupcake. Charles flashes you a hesitant smile before taking it. He peels back the liner and takes a bite. His eyes widen and he forces himself to chew and swallow.

“Well? How is it?” You ask eagerly.

Charles clears his throat. “It’s, uh, it’s great. Your best batch yet,” he lies. In truth, it’s dry and dense, with a strange bitter aftertaste. But the delight on your face makes the fib worth it.

You throw your arms around him in a hug. “Yay! I can’t wait to share them with the team this weekend.”

Charles’ stomach drops. The thought of the entire paddock pretending to enjoy your baking makes him cringe internally. But he plasters on a smile. “What a nice idea! I’m sure they’ll love them.”

The two of you arrive at the circuit and you can barely contain your excitement as you carry a large container of cupcakes into the paddock. Charles trails behind you, backpack slung over one shoulder, his other arm wrapped around your waist. He presses a quick kiss to your temple before you flit off to distribute your baked goods.

You first approach Max Verstappen, holding out a cupcake with rainbow sprinkles. “Here Max, have one!”

Max eyes the treat dubiously but accepts it with a polite smile. “Thanks Y/N, that’s really nice of you.”

You beam and turn to Charles, missing the look of apprehension on Max’s face. Charles catches Max’s eye and draws a finger across his throat in warning. Max’s eyes widen but he nods in understanding. Charles won’t let anything ruin your mood today.

You make your way through the paddock, handing cupcakes to mechanics, engineers, PR reps, reporters, team principals, and drivers. Charles hovers behind you, keeping a watchful eye on each recipient.

Daniel Ricciardo visibly gags on his first bite when you turn away. Charles glares and shakes his head sharply. Daniel rearranges his face into a smile and gives a thumbs up.

Lando Norris takes an overly large bite and Charles has to pound on his back as he chokes it down.

Esteban Ocon discreetly spits his cupcake into a napkin when you’re not looking. Charles lunges forward and grabs his arm, squeezing tightly until Esteban wheezes out “Delicious!”

You remain blissfully unaware of the chaos that falls over the paddock in your wake, oblivious to Charles’ desperate interventions. All you see are your friends and acquaintances enjoying your baking.

When you finally offer a cupcake to Charles, he takes it and eats the whole thing without hesitation. Because even if it tastes like sugary sawdust, the delight on your face makes it the best treat in the world.

“Wasn’t that fun?” You gush to Charles afterwards. “I can’t wait to try out a new recipe soon!”

Charles just kisses your frosting-smudged nose and says, “I can’t wait either, mon amour.” As long as you’re happy, he’ll choke down all the questionable cupcakes you offer. Because your smile is the only thing that matters.

***

The paddock is bustling with activity as you and Charles arrive for the next race weekend, yet another batch of fresh baked goods in hand. You’re eager to share your latest creations — classic chocolate chunk cookies. You spent hours carefully following the recipe, determined to get them just right.

As you make your rounds distributing cookies, the reactions are the usual mix of forced smiles and discreet spitting. Charles trails behind you, glaring at anyone who doesn’t immediately rave about how delicious they are. The drivers and mechanics quickly catch on, showering you with praise and shooting Charles grateful looks when he turns you away.

You finally offer a cookie to Graham, a mechanic from the Mercedes team. He takes it hesitantly, eyeing Charles standing behind you. But Graham is new to the paddock and unaware of the baked goods situation.

He takes a bite and immediately grimaces. “Ugh, these taste terrible!” He blurts out.

You gasp, stumbling back as if struck. Tears well up in your eyes. Charles is at your side in an instant, pulling you into a comforting hug. Over your shoulder, he shoots Graham a look of absolute rage.

Graham realizes his mistake too late, shame washing over his face. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean ...” he stammers. But you’re already pulling away from Charles and rushing off, sobbing.

Charles turns on Graham, eyes blazing. “How could you? All she ever wants to do is make others happy!” Graham cowers before him, other mechanics backing away nervously.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” Graham says miserably.

“Sorry isn’t good enough,” Charles snarls. “You stay away from her, you hear me?” Graham nods shakily. Satisfied the message is received, Charles races after you.

He finds you behind the garage, face buried in your hands. “Oh mon ange,” Charles murmurs, wrapping you in his arms. “Don’t listen to him, your cookies are perfect.”

You cling to Charles, sniffling. “I just wanted to do something nice for everyone. But I’m so horrible at baking!”

Charles tilts your chin up. “You listen to me. You have the biggest, kindest heart. It doesn’t matter if the cookies are a little, er, overdone. What matters is you put love into making them. Don’t let someone like Graham get you down.”

You smile tremulously. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best boyfriend ever?”

Charles grins. “Hmm, I don’t mind hearing it again.” Laughing through your tears, you tell him again, punctuating it with a kiss.

After ensuring you’re okay, Charles seeks out Graham. “I trust you’ll be more considerate going forward?” Graham nods meekly. “Good. But just so we’re clear, if you upset her again, you’ll be out of this paddock for good.”

The next day, the news breaks that Graham has been dismissed from the Mercedes team for “attitude issues.” You feel a bit guilty, hoping your cookies didn’t cause him to lose his job. But Charles seems strangely satisfied, so you don’t dwell on it.

From then on, Charles redoubles his efforts to protect your feelings whenever you provide baked goods. The paddock falls in line, fawning over your overly salty pretzels and dry banana bread.

The brightness of your smile makes it all worth it to Charles. Because keeping that joy and kindness shining in you is what matters most to him.

***

You step out of Charles’ Ferrari, the engine purring as he puts it in park. Taking his hand, you smile excitedly — today is another fan meetup organized by the team, and you can’t wait to connect with Charles’ supporters again.

“Are you ready, mon cœur?” Charles asks, squeezing your hand gently. His green eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at you adoringly.

“Absolutely!” You chirp, patting the large picnic basket hanging off your arm. “I made lots of treats to share today!”

Charles grins and leans in to kiss your forehead. “I’m sure they will love everything you made, as always.”

You beam, bolstered by his encouragement as you both make your way to the event. The meetup is being held in a local park, with tents and tables set up amongst the lush green grass and towering trees. You spot a long line of fans waiting eagerly for Charles’ arrival. Most are dressed in the familiar rosso corsa of Ferrari, holding posters and memorabilia for him to sign.

“Charles! Charles!” They chant excitedly when they see him. You hang back happily, letting him have his moment with his dedicated supporters. Charles takes selfies, signs autographs, and chats animatedly in Italian, French, and English. The fans are thrilled to interact with their racing idol.

After some time, Charles waves you over. “I would like you all to meet someone very special to me,” he announces, wrapping an arm around you. The fans erupt into cheers and applause. “This is Y/N, my love.”

You blush at the attention but manage to give a little wave. “Hi everyone! I’m so happy to be here today.”

Charles addresses the crowd again. “As some of you know, Y/N loves to bake and has brought some special treats to share with you all today.”

This is met with more enthusiastic cheers. Though none of them particularly enjoy your baked goods, the fans appreciate the effort and know Charles likes to reward them for humoring you.

You open up your large picnic basket, beaming with pride. “I made my favorite oatmeal raisin cookies, some lemon squares, and my famous rocky road fudge!”

The fans try not to visibly cringe, lining up politely with plates held out. You happily distribute your overly dry, burnt cookies and gooey, cloying fudge. The lemon squares are mushy and saccharine. But the fans accept it all with smiles and encouragement.

“Mmm, delicious!” One teenage girl forces out through a mouthful of your fudge.

An older man gives you a thumbs up as he chokes down a cookie, eyes watering. “So good!”

You beam, pleased that they enjoy your baking so much. As you chat with each person, you don’t notice Charles discreetly handing out autographed photos, caps, and other prized memorabilia to reward the fans for their efforts.

After you’ve handed out all your baked goods, Charles suggests a stroll through the park gardens. As you walk hand-in-hand admiring the flowers, he says softly, “You have such a big heart, Y/N. The way you care so much about connecting with the fans means the world to me.”

You squeeze his hand gratefully. “It’s the least I can do — they support you in everything, so I want to support them too.”

Charles stops and turns to you, his expression tender. “You are amazing, truly. I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He leans in and kisses you sweetly. Your heart flutters just like the first time your lips met.

When you return from your walk, the event is winding down. You say goodbye to the fans, who thank you profusely for the treats and making their day so special. You tell them you can’t wait to bake for them again soon!

After the last fan leaves, it’s just you and Charles. The late afternoon sun casts golden light on the empty picnic tables.

“Did you have fun, mon amour?” Charles asks, caressing your cheek.

“The best time!” You say enthusiastically. “I just love baking for your wonderful fans and seeing how it makes them smile.”

Charles’ eyes are full of love. He kisses the top of your head. “As long as it makes you happy, that’s all that matters to me.”

You snuggle into his chest happily. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“I don’t think so,” Charles teases. “Why don’t you remind me again?”

You grin up at him. “I’ll tell you over dinner … I have a new donut recipe I want to try out.”

Charles fights down a grimace as he reminds himself that your love is more than worth suffering through another dreadful dessert. “I can’t wait!”

***

“Mate, you have to stop her before she poisons someone,” Max whispers urgently to Charles as you step out of the room.

Charles furrows his brow. “What are you talking about?”

“Your girlfriend. Her baking. It’s … it’s just terrible. I’m sorry, but it has to be said.”

Charles lets out a dismissive chuckle. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” Max raises his eyebrows incredulously. “I chipped a tooth on her brownie last week!”

Charles rubs the back of his neck awkwardly as he avoids making eye contact.

“Look, I get that you don’t want to upset her,” Max continues, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “But we can’t keep lying and pretending it’s good! One of these days, someone is going to end up in the hospital.”

Charles sighs deeply, running a hand through his tousled hair. “What do you want me to do? If I tell her the truth, she’ll be devastated.”

You return to the room then, a bright smile on your face as you carry a plate of freshly baked apple tarts. “Who wants one?”

Max cringes almost imperceptibly while Charles shoots him a warning look. “They look great, ma belle!” He says with forced enthusiasm, taking one and bringing it to his lips.

The apple filling is gelatinous and tastes faintly of soap. Charles forces himself to swallow it with a strained smile. Max quickly declines when you offer him one.

Later that evening, Charles finds Max alone outside his apartment building. “I need your help,” he admits defeatedly.

Max looks at him expectantly.

“With Y/N’s baking … how do I get her to stop without completely crushing her?”

His friend contemplates this for a moment. “Well … you could try convincing her to take up a new hobby instead?”

Charles shakes his head. “I’ve suggested that before, but she’s dead set on baking. It’s her biggest passion.”

“Okay, then you’ll have to take a different approach.” Max strokes his chin thoughtfully. “What if … you told her a bunch of us were going vegan or something, so she couldn’t bake for us anymore?”

Charles raises an eyebrow at the suggestion, but then slowly nods. “You know, that could actually work …”

The next day, you eagerly bring a fresh batch of blueberry muffins to the paddock to share with everyone. Charles takes a deep breath before pulling you aside gently.

“Hey, can I talk to you about something?” He starts, trying to keep his expression neutral.

You blink up at him curiously. “Of course. What’s up?”

“Well …” He clears his throat. “I was talking to the guys and … Lewis has actually convinced a bunch of them to go vegan. Lando, Max …”

He lists off a dozen more names, watching as realization dawns on your face. Your shoulders slump slightly.

“Oh … I see.” You glance down at the muffins in your hands. “I guess that means I can’t really bake for them anymore.”

Charles feels a pang of guilt at the disappointment in your eyes. But then, your expression brightens again.

“I’ll just have to start baking vegan treats instead!” You declare happily. “This is so exciting, I’ve been wanting to experiment with more plant-based ingredients!”

Charles’s shoulders tense as the plan epically backfires. Of course you’d take this as an opportunity to bake even more.

Over the next few weeks, you gleefully embrace the vegan baking lifestyle. Charles has to smother his laughter when Max nearly chokes biting into one of your “chewy” vegan brownies. Lando spits out a mouthful of your gritty vegan chocolate cake when you’re not looking.

You, however, remain blissfully unaware of how dreadful your creations are. No matter how many hints Charles tries to drop, the problem only seems to be getting worse.

One evening, you set a plate of fresh-from-the-oven vegan peanut butter cookies on the coffee table, plopping down on the couch next to Charles with a proud grin.

“Try one!” You insist, picking a cookie up and holding it in front of his lips.

Charles hesitates for just a second too long. Your face falls and he scrambles to take a bite, barely suppressing a wince as he chews on what feels like a solid lump of chalk mixed with peanut shavings. He forces himself to swallow it down with an enthusiastic grin.

“Wow, these are incredible!” He lies through his teeth. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

You perk up immediately, the dejected look vanishing. “You really think so? I tried a new recipe I found online.”

“Definitely a winner,” Charles affirms, trying his best to sound convincing. “We should bring some to the paddock for everyone to try.”

Your eyes light up at the suggestion and guilt twists in Charles’s gut. The last thing he wants is for the other drivers to have to suffer through these … confections. But he could never be the one to shatter your baking dreams.

The next day at the track, you eagerly pass around the plate of peanut butter hockey pucks to the drivers and crew. Charles discreetly pulls Max aside with a pained look.

“Please, I’m begging you …” he murmurs under his breath. “Just smile and nod, no matter how bad they are.”

Max grimaces as he takes an experimental bite of one of the cookies, his expression doing little to mask his revulsion. But he meets Charles’s pleading gaze and forces out a strangled, “Mmm … great!”

One by one, the others follow suit — fake smiles and strained praises as they choke down your baked atrocities. You remain obliviously pleased, unaware of their suffering.

Over the next few weeks, the vegan baking experiments only seem to get worse and worse. The paddock has become a silent circle of culinary martyrs — all sworn to an unspoken code to preserve your feelings at all costs.

You proudly present a tray of charcoal-colored muffins that leave the entire garage coughing from the plume of burnt flour. “Tried a new recipe for dark chocolate avocado muffins!” You explain brightly.

“Can’t wait to dig in,” Lando is close to crying, his eyes already watering.

Charles has to bite back a laugh as Max takes a heroic bite, barely managing to keep it together. He pats the Dutchman on the back firmly as the poor guy fights back a gag reflex.

“Two more words about her baking and you’ll be racing with three wheels next season,” he warns Carlos in a low mutter after witnessing the Spaniard nearly vomit up a slice of your “moist” vegan zucchini bread.

The sheer willpower it takes for the entire crew to maintain the facade is almost impressive. Technique and strategy meetings have now become immense displays of unspoken fortitude — everyone driven by the simple goal of not letting you catch on that your baked goods are, in fact, completely inedible.

Charles has started bringing backup protein bars and shakes to every race just to make sure nobody accidentally lapses into baked good-induced delirium.

He really has no idea how much longer this can possibly be sustained. But he also has no idea how to safely extract the situation without demolishing your passion and self-confidence in the process.

For now, his main objective is to ensure your bright smile and cheerfulness remain unchanged — no matter how many mouths he has to personally silence to make that happen.

At the end of the day, having you by his side, radiating that infectious joy and following your heart’s desire, is worth enduring all the subpar vegan muffins in the world.

He’ll take a bite of your latest abomination with an adoring grin, because that’s what partners who truly love each other do — they support each other through the good, the bad, and the burnt-to-a-crisp.

***

It’s the start of a new season, and Charles has been racking his brain for a solution to the ongoing baking saga. As much as he loves indulging your passion, the charade is becoming increasingly difficult to maintain. The entire paddock is at their wits’ end trying to choke down your vegan torture devices week after week.

That’s when he has an idea — one he hopes will be a win-win for everyone involved.

“Surprise!” He says with an excited grin, presenting you with the envelopes. “I got us signed up for this baking course. I thought it could be fun for us to take some classes together!”

You’re beaming as you throw your arms around his neck. “That’s such a thoughtful idea! I would love nothing more.”

Of course, Charles being Charles is hardly fully forthright about his motivations. “To be honest, I’m the one who really needs the help,” he fibs sheepishly. “We all know I’m a disaster in the kitchen. But with your talents guiding me, maybe there’s hope!”

Over the next few weeks, you and Charles diligently show up for your baking classes. The instructor walks you through fundamentals like properly measuring ingredients, controlling oven temperatures, and mastering technical skills. Slowly but surely, your creations start emerging looking (and smelling) better and better.

One evening, you return home with a fresh tray of beautifully baked chocolate chip cookies — the first delicacy you’ve felt confident enough to bake since the lessons. You present them to Charles with bated breath.

He takes one tentative bite, his eyes widening in surprise. These are actually ... edible! More than edible — they are legitimately delicious! The dough-to-chip ratio is perfect, the texture is chewy but not dry or crumbly. He quickly stuffs two more into his mouth with an appreciative moan.

“Ma belle … these are incredible!” He gasps out between bites.

You clap your hands over your mouth, eyes shining with glee. “Oh my gosh, you really think so? I was so nervous!”

“Are you kidding? I could eat this entire tray all by myself!”

The two of you dissolve into celebratory laughter and hugs, the sweet taste of success quite literally on your tongues.

“I think it’s time for the real taste test,” you declare one day, rolling up your sleeves as you start prepping an array of fresh baked goods. “We’re taking these bad boys to the paddock!”

The next race weekend, you stride in carrying bakery boxes of your fresh chocolate chip cookies as well as some decadent fudge brownies.

“Fresh out of the oven!” You announce proudly, setting them down with a bright grin. “Who’s hungry?”

For a long beat, nobody moves. The drivers exchange wary glances, their self-preservation instincts kicking in as they recall the many baking debacles of the past. Lando bravely reaches for a brownie first, his face scrunched up preemptively-

Only to blink in surprise as the rich, fudgy flavor hits his taste buds. His eyes widen comically as he takes another bite. “Bloody hell ... this is actually good!”

The words seem to shatter the suspended tension. Soon the entire paddock is swarming the trays, devouring the fresh baked goods with delight. Charles watches on in disbelief, his own taste buds experiencing flavors he didn’t even know were possible from your former creations.

He sees Max take a bite of one of the cookies, freezing in place as his eyes slip closed with an expression of pure bliss. When they open again, Charles is alarmed to see they’re glistening with unshed tears.

The Dutchman wordlessly holds up the cookie, gazing at Charles reverently as a lone tear trails down his cheek. Then, to everyone’s astonishment, he brings the baked good to his lips and takes another sensual bite, savoring it like it’s the first good thing he’s ever tasted.

From then on, it’s like a switch has been flipped. The paddock that once dreaded your baking now seemingly can’t get enough of it. Every race weekend, they await your fresh creations with unrestrained enthusiasm, like kids on a sugar bender.

Charles has lost count of how many times he’s caught drivers and crew sneaking off to wherever you’re prepping the latest batch, nostrils flaring as they try to scout out that heavenly aroma.

It’s gotten to the point where Max’s performance coach has had to implement strict rules about his treat consumption to prevent indulgences from derailing his season.

“Easy there, Max!” Rupert calls in a booming tone, swooping in to physically restrain the Dutchman as he makes a mad dash toward where you’re unpacking that week’s fresh delivery. “You know you have a limit on those.”

Max strains against his performance coach’s grip, eyes zeroing in on the platter of goodies being unloaded with unrestrained longing. “I don’t care, she brought triple chocolate cookie dough brownies this time! Let me go!”

Rupert grunts in exertion, struggling to keep his driver in check. “This is for your own good! Think of your diet!”

“That’s irrelevant!” Max practically snarls, pupils blown wide like an addict suffering from withdrawals. “Do you have any idea how long I waited to have real baked goods again?”

It’s a battle of wills and metabolism that quickly becomes a weekly sight. Charles can’t help but chuckle fondly as he watches Max and Rupert’s familiar tug-of-war happen like clockwork every Sunday.

As much as he’d love to intervene, he knows better than to come between Max and your heavenly baked creations. He’s just thrilled that this baking journey took such a delicious turn — both for your invigorated culinary passion and for the safety of everyone’s tastebuds.

Honestly, he’ll take the sight of a feverish Max drooling over freshly baked goods any day over having to choke down burnt muffins and brittle biscuits. This is the sweet upgrade everyone had been dreaming about.

The true recipe for happiness was sticking by each other’s side through all those halfbaked stumbles.

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atlabeth · 6 days

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take my breath away

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: you help spencer train for his fitness exam. he kind of just wants to kiss you.

a/n: some fluff (and something short) after i broke my own heart (and my brain) in my last hotch fic! i’m truly in my criminal minds era. enjoy

wc: 1.3k

warning(s): reader is a runner so im sorry to my unathletic friends. but this is all fluff

“Spence,” you said, unable to bite back your smile, “how are you this bad at running?”

“I’m—” he held up a finger as he caught his breath and shook his head. “I’m not bad at running. My form… is perfect.”

“We barely made it a mile in,” you said, and you chuckled as he keeled over, his hands on his knees. “It can’t be that perfect.”

“It is,” he insisted, on the edge of wheezing. “I’m just unathletic.”

“You never did sports as a kid?”

“I graduated high school at twelve,” Spencer breathed. “I was too busy studying. Reading. Doing anything other than sports.” He looked at you and shook his head. “And I’m not crazy like you.”

Your smile only grew. “You should put your hands over your head. It helps get more air in.”

“That’s actually a rumor.” He shook his head again. “When you raise your arms, muscles that contribute… to the bucket handle movement of your ribs—” He heaved a sigh, his brows furrowing, and again, you held back a smile. You were sure this was one of his only weaknesses. “—they’re not able to function properly.”

“Alright, genius,” you said, mockingly but with love. “Recover however you like. You clearly need it.”

Spencer pouted as he straightened up, his whole face contorted in discomfort. When your boyfriend asked you to help him train for his upcoming fitness test, you didn’t think much of it—you got a full ride through college because of track, and you keep healthy with morning runs, so you were happy to help.

You’d thought about straight up offering a myriad of times—mostly after bearing witness to his attempts at running in the field. One time, the two of you were paired up to do some interviews, and it ended in a chase. By the time Spencer caught up, nearly dying on the sidewalk, you already had the unsub subdued and cuffed.

(It took him a while to live that down with Morgan.)

Spencer was gifted at other things, sure—not just everyone is a classified genius with an eidetic memory, and he’s the youngest recruit in history—and you loved him more than anything. But you couldn’t not make fun of him, just a little bit.

His face was still red, his glasses fogging up a bit from the humidity, and his hair was a mess, so you moved closer in order to brush the stray strands out of his face.

“Running isn’t my thing,” he said. “Well— fitness isn’t my thing. I’ve got everything else covered.”

“Oh yeah?” You started smoothing back the strands of his hair, and you offered a crooked smile. “Then why are we out here trying to improve your mile time?”

“Because it would be nice if Gideon doesn’t have to get all my fitness stuff waived again, and if I want that, I need the help.” His eyes didn’t leave yours, and once you finished, your hands lingered on his cheeks. You nudged his glasses back up to their spot. “And I think I’d run a marathon and die trying if it meant I got to spend more time with you.”

Your eyebrows rose. “If you want to run a marathon, I could probably get you there. It would take a lot of time together, though.”

“Please, no,” Spencer breathed. “Just the time together part.”

You grinned, and you patted him on the cheek before you pulled away. “Running is good for the soul. Why do you think I’m so happy all the time?”

“Well, this morning you said you were happy because of me,” he said. “Yesterday, it was because we had our first case-free weekend in two months. The other day—”

“That coffee I had?” you interrupted.

He nodded. “How’d you know?”

“Because you made it for me,” you said, “and I love it when you do that.”

Spencer shrugged. “You do it all the time for me. It’s only fair.”

“But that’s proof,” you said. “Running does make you happy.”

“Running does release endorphins, but anyone who likes it is crazy,” he repeated.

“That doesn’t sound scientifically backed.”

“The way I feel right now beats science,” Spencer huffed. “And you’re not happy all the time. You frowned 23 times while writing up your last report.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You were watching me? And counting?”

He shrugged. “You’re nice to watch.”

“Very smooth, Dr. Reid,” you said cloyingly. “But flattery won’t get you out of this.”

“I’m not trying to get out of anything!” he defended. You stared at him, and he held up his hands. “Okay— only halfway. But you are nice to watch. That’s why I’m still here.”

“If you’re watching me while we run, that might be why you’re doing so badly,” you said, amused.

“No—I think it’s the only thing keeping me going.”

“You don’t really look like you’re still going,” you said wryly. “You should be good at this. You’ve got long legs.”

Spencer shook his head as he screwed his eyes shut. He let out one last breathy sigh, and you hoped he’d finally recovered. “Also largely a rumor. It’s more about leg strength compared to bodyweight—long legs help with lengthy strides, but you need to generate enough torque to move faster than with shorter legs.”

You smiled. “You’ve still got facts? Even while you’re dying?”

“Mostly because Elle’s said it before too. She says I look like a baby giraffe learning how to walk when I run.” Spencer shook his head again. “I think the only thing my height is good for is getting things off of shelves.”

For once, you tried to reign in your joking. “Is there anything I can do to help? I don’t want this whole thing to be miserable for you. Running should be fun.”

“We can stop doing this?” he suggested. “I can let go of what’s left of my pride, get all my fitness stuff waived again, and go back to figuring out cases in an air conditioned conference room?”

You smiled, and you moved closer. “How about this?”

Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but you pulled him in for a kiss by the front of his shirt, effectively cutting him off. He hesitated for less than a split second, but his hands fell to your waist as he brought you in closer.

When you let go and moved away, he still had them there, and he was smiling like an idiot.

“Does that help?” you asked innocently, tilting your head.

“Yeah,” Spencer said, nodding rapidly. “Uh— yeah. I actually think I could go for another mile now.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you ruffled his hair, messing up your earlier work. “I’d love to test that, pretty boy, but I don’t think you can make it another mile.”

Spencer shook his head. “If you keep kissing me like that, I think I can make it through that marathon you mentioned.”

“Sure I don’t take your breath away too badly?” you teased.

“I have some facts for that, but I don’t think they apply.” His lips curved up, and the redness from exertion mixed with his steadily rising blush. “Because you, uh— you did take my breath away the first time I saw you.”

“I should start calling you loverboy with material like that,” you mused. “Morgan’s annoyed that I took pretty boy from him.”

Spencer grimaced. “Just thinking of Morgan seeing me like this makes me want to get back at it. I can’t deal with any more of his teasing.”

“But my teasing’s okay?”

He frowned. “Of course. It— it’s kind of why I fell for you.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “That’s why you’re still at this. You don’t like things being handed to you.”

His cheeks darkened again, and you laughed as you leaned in to peck him on the lips one more time.

“Alright, loverboy,” you said. “Ready to get back at it?”

“No,” he said affirmatively. “But I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

“Not if you want to pass,” you said wryly, and you gestured back at the trail with your head. “But you know what they say—one step at a time.”

Spencer grumbled, and he shook his arms out again. “Fine. As long as those steps are with you.”

You smiled. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

#i know this scene in the show does not happen in s2 but i alsoooo do not care lol. canon continuity is dead to me in my fics #s2 spence my beloved<3 #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #x reader #sadie writes

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15minlatewithbatbucks · 8 months

Text

One of the bats has to go undercover as a patient of a particularly suspect new and upcoming therapist. Bruce already has a backstory fleshed out and a cover identity, but that's no fun now is it.

Dick: Okay, the bat council is now in session. First things first-

Steph: I'm the realest.

Jason: Shut the fuck up.

Dick: No, no arguing. We're here on a MISSION.

Tim: That's right, a very important mission.

Dick: One of us has to go undercover as Dr. Hoffman's patient. But why? Why are we seeking therapy?

Tim: Wrong answers only. If any of you get too real, Dick can and will find you a real therapist.

Dick: And Tim, no superhero related answers. Bernard's PowerPoint nights give you too much of an advantage.

Tim: You're just jealous I know that Batman is actually a tulpa.

Jason: You shut the fuck up too.

---

Dick: Okay, I'll go first to get the obvious answer out of the way. I'm going because I'm secretly Batman, BUT I'm not here about that. I just have incredibly selective amnesia and can't remember the code to the Batmobile.

Jason: Oh that one's good. Let me think.

Steph: Hoffman is a man, right?

Dick: Right.

Steph: Easy, I'll claim womanly problems. Maybe get prescribed a vibrator.

Tim: *wheezes*

Dick: Ok Gotham's in the dark ages of psychology but not THAT much.

Steph: Spoilsport. Fine, I'm Batman's long lost twin sister.

Duke: Come on, we can't all go to therapy because of Batman.

Jason: I don't know, I feel like all of us should go to therapy because of Batman.

Cass: I'll go because I'm Batman.

Jason: I'd vote for you.

Duke: I think I would go because Metropolis isn't real.

Tim: Like, the whole city is-

Duke: It's a conspiracy. The government wants us to think there's this wonderful city where nothing bad ever happens and an actual alien from space saves the day. Tries to make us buy into some utopian bullshit.

Tim: Hoffman's just going to drive you there.

Duke: Ha! He's not getting ME to a secondary location. He might be in on it.

Steph: Compelling, definitely compelling. I nominate Duke's for first place.

Jason: Don't jump the gun.

Tim: Yeah, you haven't heard ours.

Steph: Well? Let's hear it then.

Tim: I'm an alien spy, sent here to study humans. Only I'm not doing well because I was taken in by rich people and they act weirder than me. I want to know what it means to be human, but whenever I look around all I see is how to make a good margarita. It makes me... sad.

Steph: That's no good. We said wrong answers only.

Jason: Solid four out of ten.

Tim: Fuck off.

Jason: I think I would go because I was convinced I was the second coming of Jesus which is all fine and good, but my whole family is Jewish so it's making things a little awkward at the dinner table.

Steph: You did come back from the dead.

Jason: I did and I'll tell him that. Took a little longer than three days this time, though.

Tim: Okay, I'll be honest. Jason and Duke's are the best.

Dick: Hold on- Damian, do you have an answer?

Damian: Of course. And not one so foolish.

Duke: Well?

Damian: Well, my whole family is comprised of vigilantes and I'm under a lot of stress to be one as well and continue the family tradition. I will of course swear him to secrecy and avoid naming any vigilantes by name.

Dick: ...

Jason: This is what I'm talking about. This is exactly what I'm-

Dick: Yes, okay. Game's over. All of you are getting psych referrals in your inbox by the morning.

Steph: What about-

Dick: Duke won.

#tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #damian wayne #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #my writing tag #this is obviously a joke and not a real 1:1 representation of reasons to seek therapy #let's see how long before someone wildly misinterprets it #batfamily

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ervotica · 5 months

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AH i just saw ur post and i also love dark!rafe so i wanted to request maybe dark!rafe (who is already very possessive) gets jealous asf and maybe reader tries to make fun of him ab how jealous he got and he just gets all pissed off and is all like “you think it’s fucking funny?” AGDKSHISHEKAS idk i think it would eat🤭

warnings; dark!rafe, choking, controlling!rafe, name calling (dark!rafe blurb reqs r open, any concepts up for discussion !)

Rafe's arm hooks round your middle to pull you out of the haphazard circle that's formed in the centre of the beach. You're up and over his shoulder before you can even blink, fists thumping fruitlessly against his back as he swats at your barely covered bum.

"Rafe! Put me down!"

"Quit bein' such a fuckin' slut and I might."

You roll your eyes from behind his broad back and squeal as you're tossed into the damp sand by the shore. You scowl, kicking feebly at his ankles until he crouches to your level, a bruising grip on your jaw.

"I don't want you talking to him again," he says. With a huff, you wrench free of his grip and push yourself up so you're standing. Sand clings to your shorts.

"Who?"

"That guy you were talking to! He was practically fucking you with his eyes and you were letting him!"

You laugh, a snide thing that has your brow raising incredulously and your arms stretching out around you.

"You're jealous?" you snort. "Aww, baby." Stepping close until you're plastered to his front, you scratch at his jaw with grainy fingers. "Big, bad Rafey is feeling left out?"

He seethes above you and you feel his jaw tick under your fingertips, pulse thrumming. Thick fingers are around your throat before you can so much as take a breath; his eyes are dark, clouded with something unnerving that puts you on edge.

"You think this is fucking funny?" His nostrils flare. Your eyes are wide, like a deer caught in headlights.

"I was playing, babe," you croak, throat bobbing under his iron grip. His fingers curl, colour bleeding from his knuckles as he doubles down on squeezing; your vision starts to slip, blurring at the edges until your eyes sheen over, glossy with the lack of oxygen.

"You don't speak to me that way," he growls. "You know better."

"'M sorry," you wheeze. "Rafe, please."

He turns away suddenly and you cough, sucking in a breath of air as you double over. Your lungs burn, juncture of your jaw tender and no doubt marked with blooming red fingerprints.

"We're going home. Now," he barks. "Get in the car."

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 6 months

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OMG SAW UR ASKS WERE OPEN AND I RAN SO FAST HFJDJSBS

Anyways ok so imagine *trips over my own feet* imagine uhm baking cookies *stumbling* baking cookies with Lilia:3

No pressure ofc! I hope u will enjoy writing this if u do! And make sure to drink after and take care of urself!

Flour Belongs In The Cookies; Lilia Vanrouge

Content; Gender-neutral reader, fluff, some pining

Word Count; 650+

Author's Note; Cloudy, you do know how bad his cooking is, right? Besides that, I hope you enjoy what I did with this little prompt!

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

You knew full well going into this that Lilia … wasn’t the best person to leave around food. Well, you didn’t know to the full extent how ‘bad’, ‘revolting’, and ‘utterly cursed’ he was according to his dormmates (and adoptive family? Still trying to wrap your head around that one, to be honest).

Yet, as you were both adding ingredients to the batch of cookies you were making, he had done nothing to tamper with the recipe or mess up by accident. Perhaps Silver, Sebek and Malleus were just overexaggerating it? Lilia has been completely fine, a great helper even!

“So,” you cleared your throat, breaking the quiet (which was both comfortable yet awkward). “Why did you want to bake cookies with me? Not that I mind, just curious is all.”

Lilia looked up from the wet and dry ingredients he was combining and offered you a cheeky smile with a wink. “Hmm, do I need a reason to do so,” he breathed with a silent chuckle, sneaking some of the raw dough into his mouth.

You tutted, taking the bowl away from him. “I don’t need you getting sick from eating that now–”

But your attempt at lecturing was silenced by a small puff of flour being slapped gently on your cheek; a white handprint now on it. “RUDE!”

Lilia was having a good old laugh, from either getting flour on you, the shocked expression on your face, or a combination of the two (knowing him, it was bound to be the last one). He was actually getting pink in the face because of it; was he even taking breaks from laughing to breathe???

“Ah, lighten up! Plus,” he paused and covered your hand in flour and gently slapped it on his cheek, “there, we match now.”

His magenta eyes were twinkling with mischief and you found yourself gently shaking your head and chuckling. Sighing, you picked up some flour with your hands and made it look like you were just going to cover the countertop with it, but you swerved, and slapped it into Lilia’s hair.

Lilia coughed, and rubbed at his eyes, trying to get the flour out of his eyes, but once he opened them again, you were gone. So we’re playing games now? But he just wheezed in delight and gave chase, a cup full of flour on hand so he could repay the favour. After all, since you both had matching handprints on your cheeks, you deserved to be bestowed some flour on your head.

“And here you were saying it was rude of me for that first move,” he called out into the dorm. They couldn’t have gotten far now.

He heard the curtains ruffle, and he floated over, not making a sound.

Peaking oh so carefully behind the curtains, he spotted you, silently giggling to yourself. And that’s when he made his move.

“Found you!~” And he sprinkled the flour over your head; much more gently than you did to him.

You groaned, knowing it would take a bit to get the flour out from everything… but the way Lilia floated overhead made it look like he was sprinkling snow… was he always this pretty? Even with him covered in flour, you still felt your heart flutter.

You mentally slapped your cheeks though, and got yourself up.

“Guess you did… but that was fun,” you chuckled, dusting yourself off to the best of your ability.

The moment though was ruined by your smoke alarm going off; it was a wonder that those even worked, but hey, at least they worked.

Rushing to the kitchen, you opened up the oven to have a mass of black smoke smelling of burnt food of some sort enveloping the both of you.

“What happened?!” You coughed out, trying to open up the windows and doors to let out the smoke.

Lilia grimaced, “Ah… perhaps I set the oven too high.”

And even though you had fun making the now coal-like cookies, perhaps store-bought would have been better…

...

Tags; @afunkyfreshblog @eynnwwyjth @identity-theft-101 @ithseem @lucid-stories @ryker-writes @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii

#twst #twst x reader #twst x gender neutral reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge x gn reader #just be happy the cookies burned and that you didn't have to eat them cuz he definitely messed with them when you ran #also enjoy getting flour out of the floorboards <3 #how tf did i write this in under an hour???#cloudy!#cloudy do not trust this man's cooking PLEASE #lilia is a little shit and i love that for him

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faithums · 3 months

Text

…cuddling with the jjk men ·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳

✎ synopsis: what positions do the jjk men cuddle in (+ my interpretations)

Inclu. gojo, nanami, megumi, choso, yuji, toji, geto

╰┈➤ saturo gojo

spontaneous embraces are his go to, you never know what he is going to say or do next. but he is always found in the classic spooning position. god knows what he would do without it.

As you lay comfortably in bed, the feeling of warmth of the blankets enveloped you, you sense Gojo’s presence drawing near, his captivating aura filling the room with a heavy tension as he stepped gently toward you. His touch is feather-light as he wraps his toned arms around you from behind, pulling you tight- leaving no room for air- into a soothing embrace.

You arch your back slightly, pressing into his torso and lower back, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His warmth seeps into your skin, creating a sense of security and tranquility. His breath against the nape of your neck sends shivers down your spine as he cupped the flesh of your thighs.

You intertwine your fingers with his, relishing in the simple yet profound connection between the two of you. In this moment there are no words required between the two of you; just silent understanding and subtle affection. It’s a moment of solace, where the world starts to fade away, along with the stress of it all- leaving only the comforting embrace of his presence.

You let out a sigh, a sigh to inform yourself how you can finally relax, knowing he is safe with you and, mostly, how you’re safe with him. He slowly begins to caress your hips, placing his chin into the slopes of your clavicle. You love him silently back by placing your hand atop of his (which is comically large on comparison) and tenderly trace the redness of his knuckles.

The silence as comforting, but all of a sudden this loud, jarring voice creeps up behind you, tainting your hearing: “If I slipped it in would it ruin the mood?” When Gojo tries to initiate anything sexual it all goes south hilariously.

A small wheeze left your lips: “Oh my god. Saturo, you’re unbelievable.” You love him and his stupid little comments, but sometimes this man cannot read the room.

“That’s not a no is it, love.” you could feel him smirk into the back of your neck, his hot breath making you fluster and choke on your words…

╰┈➤ kento nanami

a simple man, into the old time classics. like spooning or having your head on his lap whilst you two discussed the affairs of the fun filled days you’ve had. (p.s. this man is always the big spoon)

In the soft twilight glow, your head finds a gentle perch upon Nanami’s lap, a sanctuary of comfort admits the chaos of this curse ridden world. His relaxing presence blankets you like a protective cloak, shielding you from the tumultuous winds of life’s uncertainties.

As your fingers intertwine with his, it’s as though tune itself acquiesces, allowing this moment of intimacy to stretch into eternity (if only it could…). His touch, like the tender brush of a feather against your skin- despite his notorious ruthless nature- ignites a symphony of sensations that resonate deep with your soul.

With each stroke through your hair, Kento weaves threads of serenity and devotion, his fingers becoming the artisans of ataraxia in this shared sacred space. His heartbeat, a steady rhythm beneath your ear, acts as a comforting lullaby, guiding you into a state of peaceful surrender.

In this intimate cocoon, you’re both the architects and inhabitants of a world where love reigns supreme (despite the havoc which enfolds within your lives on a daily basis). Every whispered word, every gentle touch, is a testament to the profound bond that binds your sensitive hearts together, transcending the boundaries of time and space.

As you rest flush against his lap, enveloped in his warmth, you realise that this moment is not just a pause in time but a glimpse into your boundless futures- a testament to the enduring power of love to transform even the simplest of gestures into moments of sublime perfection.

“I love you Kento,” sleep configured your words to him, spilling your feelings to him for the millionth time, he must be getting fed up of it by now…

But no. He never does: “And I shall love and worship you for eternity, my darling.”

╰┈➤ megumi fushiguro

an affectionate lover when he needs to be. basking in the warmth of your embrace, relishing the moment, as he knows that this can’t last a life time, even though he wishes it could.

As the morning sun filters through the pristine curtains, it’s golden rays dance across the bare skin of you and Megumi, painting the room in a warm, honeyed glow. The gentle caress of sunlight kisses your intertwined forms; illuminating the delicate lines of your entangled limbs. His veiny, toned forearms (stained with an aureate hue) are meticulously wrapped around the flesh of your stomach, as his head rests flush against your chest.

Megumi’s strong, lanky hold you in a wholesome embrace as you cuddle together, radiating a sense of security and amenity. With each gentle touch, his fingers trace soothing patterns on your skin, a silent promise of protection and warmth. The contrast between the rough texture of his palms and the softness of your touch creates a sensation that feels both grounding and intimate, a tangible reminder of the bond you share.

You begin to play with your cute boyfriends fluffy, unruly black hair, eliciting a soft subtle groan of contentment from him, a sense of relaxation and desire washes over you both. Each onyx strand seems to have a mind of its own, curling around your fingers in a hypnotising dance. His groan carries a mixture of pleasure and relief, a testament to the blissful moment you share. With each gentle tug and caress, the tension of the outside world fades away, you become suddenly grateful of the serendipitous acts you both indulge in.

Megumi’s breath quickens, you feel the subtle shift in rhythm between your breathing patterns. The desynchronisation of the beats of your hearts made you less relaxed, the residue stress began to creep back over you.

“Can you match my breathing you’re stressing me out Fushiguro.” You whined, your voice strained with sleep.

“Mno.” He replied with a yawn which rippled against your warm chest, “its too much effort.”

“If you don’t I’ll send screenshots of our text messages to the group chat with Itadori, Kugisaki and Gojo in.” You chuckled to yourself through the ebony wisps of his hair.

“Okay. Fine.”

Even though he was getting sassier day-by-day, the hot smile on your skin was indicative of the inevitable submission of his heart beat would return to its original pace. Slowly transcending reality and entering a realm of bliss and freedom from the things that taint your very existence.

╰┈➤ choso kamo

someone who gets aroused by the little things in life, by cuddling. he’s too sweet, he doesn’t want to disrupt your rest. so he attempts at staying as still as he can before it goes noticed…

In the serene haven of your shared space, the soft glow of dimmed lights bathed the room, casting gentle shadows that danced across the walls. As you and Choso recline on the cosy refuge of the velvety couch, your legs intertwined seamlessly- fitting together leg the final pieces to a ridiculously hard puzzle.

Your fingers seemed to have a subconscious and moved independently to delicately trace the strong, defined contoured of his face, mapping out the creases from where he’s recently laughed uncontrollably. His eyes, riddled with sleep, were trying their hardest to withstand the effects of slumber. His brown pools meet yours with a silent unwavering support. With each small caress you feel the rough texture of his skin beneath your fingertips- earning a soft groan from each touch. A tangible reminder of how much you adore each other.

His hair spills over his shoulders and down his broad back, it carries an air of untamed elegance, undeterred by his busy life. He cups your cheek, whispering sweet nothing into your ear about how have you permanently altered his life for the better.

As you lifelessly wrap your arms around him, you feel that the world you seem to reside in fades away, leaving only the two of you cocooned in an embrace that feels like coming home. His strong yet gentle arms encircle you, pulling you close so your bodies touch. Flush against his toned chest, you felt small beneath him, vulnerable- in a good way, your hands traced his collarbones, counting the beauty marks on his sternum, which made his own unique constellation.

As you held him close you noticed that he began to subtly shift in his demeanour. He seemed to become tense which is odd as his posture is usually composed, and you can feel the faint tremble of his muscles beneath your touch. His breath, once steady and calm, now comes in irregular busts, betraying the carnality brewing within him.

“Choso. Can you not be hard for once,” you laughed into the crook of his neck. Inhaling his scent, a blend of earthy musk and the faintest hint of spice.

“Sorry Baby,” he whined into your hair, ruffling it with his large hand, “can’t help it… you’re too perfect.” he squeezed the flesh of your ass in response. And smiled knowing he’s safe from judgement in your loving arms, despite the current predicament…

╰┈➤ yuji itadori

this man expects hugs etc of how he is with his personality, he gives 150% each day, and alls he wants in return is to cuddle. but when he shares an embrace with you it isn’t long until he’s fast. asleep.

Your head is slung over his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his torso, scared he will let go. (Even though he would probably be thinking the same.) His pink hair, appears dark in the nights shine, with each rise and fall of his chest- his dreams catch up with him slowly but surely, a blanket of sleep falling and catching him.

The dust particles danced in the air as the moons iridescent rays highlighted them, you watched half lidded as they began their journey to perilously fall to the ground and be trapped forever. It was an interesting thought, but a thought at least.

Your leg was thrown over his, it had become limp as that too had been affected by the night, casting a paralysing spell upon you. You adjust yourself with a contented sigh, moving the leg, seeking even closer contact.

Yuji stirs slightly at the movement, but he doesn’t wake, instead, he instinctively pulls you closer, his arm encasing you protectively. His presence is comforting, and you revel in the feeling of safety and leave that being with him ultimately brings.

Wrapped in each other’s embrace, you drift off into a peaceful sleep, content in the knowledge that you are exactly where you belong- in Yuji’s arms.

It was peaceful, too peaceful. A bird cawed from afar, sending its voice ricocheting toward the open window above us. In response to this, Yuji inevitably flung himself forward, propelling you off his chest dramatically, his fight or flight activated.

“OW.” You shouted at him with a whisper, “Yuji what was that for!”

“Swear that was a curse…” He protested, a small blush creeping its way along his face, to catch him red handed for being too precautious.

“If that was a curse then I’m next in line to the throne of England.” You dismissed jokingly, and pulled him back onto the mattress, attempting to submit to sleep once more.

“It’s not my fault I’m a cautious sleeper! It was ever since that day-,” he rolled his eyes.

“Oh yeah that was hilarious. When Nobara drew that penis on your face with permanent marker. Comedy gold.” You recited from memory with a laugh; for him to quickly ‘shush’ you as he says that can’t be disclosed out loud; because he thinks Sukuna will listen and take the piss out of him in-front of people in a future job interview or something. (Very unrealistic, but that’s Yuji.)

╰┈➤ toji fushiguro

he wants you to be on him, it’s rarely that he wants it the other way around, he enjoys watching your feeble attempt to climb on-top of him- thinks he’s funny. when he’s just a dick.

You were straddled across his lap, laying on his chest, enjoying the warmth emanating from his body as you cuddled together on the couch. The soft glow of the lamp nearby cast a gentle ambiance, enveloping the two of you in an adequate, snug atmosphere.

Toji’s arms (which were of ridiculous size by the way) were holding you tight, keeping you close as if he never wanted to let go. His fingers traced idle patterns down your bare back, sending shivers down your spine in the most delightful way. With your head rest of against his chest, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a comforting lullaby that eased any worries from your mind.

Lost in the tranquility of the moment, you closed your eyes, savouring the feeling of being so close to him. But just as you were about to drift off into a euphoric slumber, you felt a slight shift beneath you.

Opening your eyes slightly, you saw Toji’s gaze fixated on something on the floor. Following his like of sight, you noticed a glimmer of metal- a coin (with the value of approximately £2) lying forgotten on the carpet.

Confusion flickered across Toji’s face for a moment, before he awkwardly adjusted his position, subtly manoeuvring his foot to nudge the coin closer toward him. It was a comical sight to say the least- the epitome of Toji’s resourcefulness even on the most intimate of moments.

Suppressing a laugh, you watched as he pitifully/finally managed to retrieve it (after what felt like hours of him kicking it further away for him then to scoot more off the couch, and for you to almost fall off it), his expression was a mixture of triumph and amusement.

“Did you just do all of that to end up with…,” you began, trying to stifle your laughter.

“Took me a second there. But moneys money babe. Gotta get it whilst ya’ can.” Toji replied with a grin, the small scar on his lips curling along with his mouth, he held the coin up to the light attractively, as if he’d won the biggest prize at a fair ground.

“I guess every little bit counts, huh old man?” You chuckled, shaking your head in amusement and denial with the fact a grown man spent 10 minutes kicking a coin around with his foot.

“Atta girl,” he said, pocketing the coin with a shrug. “Cant let em’ go to waist ey’,” he declared with a smirk into your hair.

“Guess not,” you sighed into his chest, and he turned his attention back toward you, surrounding you with his arms once more. And despite the brief interruption, you couldn’t help but feel even more enamoured with him, finding his attractiveness in the simplicity of your shared moments- coin and all.

╰┈➤ suguru geto

this may be out of character but i can just imagine geto enjoying the simplicity of a back to back cuddle. he knows you’re there and safe with him- that’s all he asks for. however on some occasions he will completely smother you.

You and Suguru lounged on the bed, with each others backs plush against one another, the feeling of his toned back against yours made you shiver. Suguru enjoyed the simplicity of being together, not much had to happen for him to fall in love with you again as of it was the first time.

Suguru let out a contented sigh, but then a mischievous glint danced in his eyes. “‘member when Gojo tried to make pancakes?”

You burst into laughter at the memory, “How could I forget that shitshow!”

Suguru chuckled, his laughter seeping through his body, making it clear to you as his back vibrated onto yours. “He was so confident, bragging about his secret recipe like an entitled child.”

“And then he proceeded to mix up salt and sugar,” you added, shaking your head. “Poor Itadori was choking for a solid minute, on those stupid pancakes- I’ll still argue to him that they looked like boobs, with how he deliberately placed those blueberries…”

Suguru laughed heartily, moving his arm back so he could knead the plush of your inner thigh, it earned a little squeal from yourself. “And don’t forget the time when he attempted to bake a cake for Nanami’s birthday…”

“The fact that goon forgot the flour. And how he put 100 candles on the cake- I swear Nanami was about to kill him.” You exclaimed, doubling with the giddy feeling, “at the end, the cake was a dense, sugary brick.”

Suguru smiled contently, thinking about the memories which brought him joy as he drew small patterns into your thighs, up-to to your ass. “Not as dense as him.”

Just then, you felt Suguru’s grip tighten around you, his laughter subsiding. “You know you mean the world to me.” He stated. “Life with you is what makes living in this unsanitary shithole so enjoyable.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚

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pink-princess-pussy-pop · 1 year

Text

Rafey - Rafe x Reader FLUFF

Req: I am in need of rafe fanfics so here I am requesting …. I was wondering if you could write something about rafe being really soft when it comes to reader and being completely different from his usual mean personality and just being completely whipped for her?? Hope this is alright :)

Rafe x Reader est. relationship

Warnings: Language, violence, alcohol and drug use, rafe making sexual innuendos lol

Summary: You witness Rafe's animosity towards others and notice the difference in his treatment of you.

SOFT! RAFE IS MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE.

Summers on The Cut were the absolute best. Parties every weekend, the beach with your friends, all the time in the world with your boyfriend, Rafe. The Kook life suited you well.

You stepped into Tannyhill, the blast of the AC immediately cooling your body down from the hellish weather of the OBX. Rafe and Sarah had come together, a once-in-a-blue-moon occurrence, to plan that weekend's party. Rose and Ward had taken Wheezie out of town for her birthday, leaving the elder Camerons alone in the big house. Sarah was in the kitchen, stirring a big cooler of some sort of beverage you guessed you would be indulging in later that night.

"Hey Y/N!" She smiled at you. "Rafe is out getting some stuff for tonight, but he should be back soon!" You nod and cross to the counter where she is.

"Alright." You look around the big room. "Do you need help with anything? Should I-"

"Could you get the ice from the freezer?" You smile.

"Got it."

Fifteen minutes later, and a few sips of Sarah's concoction later, you are giggling on the sofa.

"No way."

"No, I'm serious. After he got his wisdom teeth out, he kept asking to watch The Backyardigans. It was hysterical. Wheez got so many good videos of him." You simply couldn't contain your laughter at the thought of Rafe watching a kids' TV show.

"Yeah yeah. It's hysterical." His voice rang out from behind you and Sarah's eyes went wide as they met yours, a laugh threatening to escape from her lips. You, however, kept giggling.

"Rafey... How often do you watch The Backyardigans?" He rolled his eyes and set his hands on the back of the couch, bending down to meet your height.

"It was a one-time thing, baby." You giggled again and Rafe smiled the tiniest bit. "Geez, how much have you had to drink?" He sat up, running his hand through his hair, which you were thankful for. After you had kept stealing his gel, Rafe left his hair natural, which you were very thankful for.

Sarah started laughing again, which made you start laughing.

"Not a lot!" He rolled his eyes and turned away from the two of you, going to the kitchen to finish preparations. Sarah suddenly gasped and tapped your shoulder repeatedly. "D'ya wanna get ready with me? It will be so fun." You immediately nod.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Sarah jumps off of the couch reaching her hand out for you.

"C'mon!" You grabbed her hand and let yourself be pulled in the direction of the stairs before Rafe's voice stopped you.

"Hold on ladies. I'd like to talk to my girl before you leave me all alone." Sarah giggles again before running up the stairs. You smile and turn to Rafe, jumping a bit in shock when you see that he is already in front of you, his hand on the wall beside your head.

"Hi." You whisper.

"Hi." He whispers back. You grin at him, which makes him smile.

His unoccupied hand brushes a strand of hair away from your face before he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

"I bet you're gonna look beautiful tonight. Have fun with Sarah and holler if you need anything." He gives you a real Rafe smile and you return an even bigger one.

Hours later, you were riding on the buzz of Sarah's tasty drinks and some weed. You felt great, the light blue dress you chose for the night fell just below your bottom, something that Rafe had noticed the moment you had walked down the stairs.

He had been keeping an eye on you all night, how could he not with that fucking dress? You looked like you were having a good time with Sarah and the rest of your friends, smiling at you from afar.

"Yo, Rafe!" Kelce clapped him on the shoulder. "Special delivery from Barry." The mention of the drug caught Rafe's attention quickly and he grinned at Kelce.

"Where?" Kelce jerked his head behind him and began to walk away. Rafe turned his head back to where you were and decided you'd be fine on your own for a bit. He met Kelce and Topper in a spare guest-room. The white power clumped on the table made Rafe's heart pound in anticipation. The three Kooks indulged in the drug, making their noses burn and heads spin.

Rafe left the room and made his way back to the party, rounding a corner when a touron bumped into him.

"Hey man! Watch where you're going. Asswipe." The dark haired guy spat out. With the drug mixed with Rafe's temper, the guy was on the floor in an instant.

"The fuck did you just say to me?" Topper and Kelce were right behind Rafe, amused looks on their faces. The party had quieted down, eyes and ears on Rafe and the kid on the floor below him.

You pushed your way to the front of the crowd, staring with wide eyes as Rafe's body loomed over the touron.

"Dude! what the fuck?" The guy scrambled up onto his feet, pushing Rafe back with as much force as he could. "Do you wanna fight?"

Rafe's dark laugh could be heard over the music.

"Awe dude's gone and fucked up." Topper said, coaxing a laugh out of Kelce.

Rafe smirked, pushing the sleeves of his button down up to his elbows.

"Won't be much of a fight dude." Rafe's fist collided with the guys face seconds later, sending him back onto the floor. Gasps sounded throughout the room.

"Rafe!" You screamed as he bent down to deliver another blow. And another.

Rafe managed to control his anger and picked the touron up, clutching him by his shirt.

"Get the fuck out of my house." The touron wasted no time scrambling out of Tannyhill and seconds later, the party was back in full-swing, like Rafe hadn't just beaten a tourist up.

Kelce and Topper patted Rafe on the back as he inspected his hands.

"Rafe." The prior actions had sobered you up almost completely. Their heads snapped to yours and Rafe gave you another one of his rare smiles. You fought the urge to smile back. "Come with me. Let me help you." You glared at Kelce and Top as they giggled at Rafe nodding and following you out of the room like a puppy.

The cocaine had made Rafe hyperfixate on you. Your pretty face, your sparkling eyes, the slight pout of your lips while you cleaned off his bloody knuckles.

"Hi, baby." He whispered. You were standing in between his legs, with him on the counter in his bathroom.

"Hi." You didn't look at him when you replied, too focused on fixing him up and too mad to meet his gaze. That is until Rafe started giggling.

"Well isn't this a switcheroo." Your head jerked up at Rafe's odd choice of words.

"What?" He's grinning at you again and the sight makes your heart race.

"Usually I'm in between your legs." Your head drops in exasperation and you take a deep breath.

"Jesus, Rafe." You refocused back on his hand, cleaning it up before wrapping it with bandages.

"We could make that happen, if you want..." His voice is just above a whisper. You are waiting for a giggle to follow but the room is silent. You look at him and his eyes are wide and pupils blown.

"Rafe..." You take his head in your hands. "Are you high?" A sheepish look wipes across his face.

"Only a little bit." His strong arms wrap around your torso, pulling your body closer to his. His head drops to your shoulder. "Mmmm. Yof snel go." His words are muffled and you stifle a laugh?

"What?" His head pops up a little.

"You smell good."

"Thank you, Rafe." His head pulls back so his eyes can meet yours, a frown present on his handsome features.

"Stop calling me that."

"Rafe? Baby that's your name." He shakes his head.

"You haven't called me Rafey all night." He pouts and you smile.

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes, please." Even though you hate Rafe's use of drugs, you do enjoy this side of Rafe that comes out after he indulges in it.

"Aright, baby." You grab his hand to pull him off of the counter but he doesn't budge. "C'mon big guy." He shakes his head.

"Not until you say it." You set your hands on your hips as you stare at your boyfriend, Rafe Fucking Cameron, the scariest Kook of them all who just fucking broke a kids nose, is sitting on a counter in front of you, acting like a baby and begging you to call him by his nickname.

"Then I guess you're gonna have to be nice, Rafe." His eyes narrow.

"You're being mean. I'm always nice." You roll your eyes. "To you." He reaches his hands out and pulls you back to his embrace. "Please?" His eyes are like a puppies and you can't hold back your smile.

"Rafey..." Out comes another true Rafe grin which makes your heart soar.

"Say it again." His fingers brush your sides as he looks at you expectantly. Your hands reach up to push his hair back.

"Rafey." He thanks you with kisses. Your forehead, nose, cheeks, lips.

"Stop! Ew!" You are a giggling mess. You manage to push the large man away from your body, trying to catch your breath.

You look at him, standing by the door, watching you with a small smile.

"What?"

"I love you." His words go straight to your heart.

"I love you." He pulls you in for a real kiss, one that makes you melt into his arms.

The two of you leave the bathroom hand-in-hand.

"Did you call me 'big guy' ?"

"Shut up."

THIS MADE ME SMILE SO MANY TIMES!

Enjoy!

#rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe #rafe cameron #rafe obx #outerbanks fanfiction #outerbanks #rafe cameron x reader smut #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe cameron x reader #obx

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xxsabitoxx · 8 months

Text

When You're Stronger Then Them

Jujutsu Kaisen Men x AFAB Reader

Warnings: No explicit content but there are some suggestive themes. All Characters are 18+ in this post!

the tiny lil line dividers are from the lovely @/benkeibear

Gojo Satoru

You? Stronger than him? Don’t make him laugh

At least that’s what he’s thinking until you two decide to train for hand-to-hand combat

Satoru is mildly shocked when you manage to keep up with him, you’re quick on your feet and have good reflexes

When you manage to land a good, hard hit to his gut, he realizes there’s no point in trying to hold back with you

In the end, you were both tangled on the exercise mats, panting heavily. Satoru had you pinned, a triumphant look on his face as he smirked down at you.

"I win again." He huffed out, resting more of his weight on you just to see you wheeze. "Yeah w-whatever." You stopped struggling, looking up at him just a little defeated. "You put up a good fight though, I'm impressed." He smiled, still lying on top of you like a dead weight. He had your arms pinned above your head, one knee between your legs to keep them from closing. In any other situation, the position would be pretty lewd. "I'm no match when it comes to cursed energy Satoru." though you felt pretty proud of yourself for keeping up with him in combat like this. You watched him open his mouth, ready to make a response, that was your opening. With one swift movement, you were able to flip the both of you. Satoru looked mildly shocked as you straddled him, his hands still griping your wrists. "I win."

Geto Suguru

He typically has the advantage when it comes to training

He won't use his strongest curses on you, but you also won't give it your all because you don't want to kill his "valuable" curses.

So you usually train in hand-to-hand combat, where neither of you hold back. Not even a little bit.

Suguru (like Satoru) had been holding back the first time you sparred and was quickly corrected when he just barely blocked a kick to his head. Which had him blinking at you in shock.

Five rounds later, you've got Suguru pinned to the mat with your ass on top of his head, effectively immobilizing him.

"This is just cruel." Suguru's voice is slightly muffled by the way his cheek is pressing into the mat. "No, this is fair. You really tried to hold back on me earlier." You laughed softly as Suguru huffed, not even trying to get you off of him anymore. "Ya know, this isn't a terrible punishment-" he chuckled as you immediately got off of him, muttering something about how he's "such a pervert." He only laughed harder, sitting up and watching you flop down on the mat next to him. "You're strong, really strong. When did that happen?" he wiped the sweat from his brow as you cracked open a water bottle. "I've been training hard, it's fun being able to beat your ass." you could tell he immediately wanted to say something to defend himself but stopped short when he realized you were right. "yeah, whatever."

Nanami Kento

He's reluctant to train with you, he'd much rather just go work out or something calmer. But you're so damn persistent...

He gives in, agreeing to spar with you one evening, weapons allowed and everything (which he hates but you're so excited.)

Much to Nanami's surprise, you manage to knock the wind out of him within the first five minutes, squeaking out an apology

He assures you it's fine, admitting he had initially underestimated you... you can tell he's getting a bit into it now.

An hour later, you're both dripping sweat and panting, You've got your blade pressed to his throat while pinning one arm down with your foot, the other pinned with your knee.

"Ready to give up, Kento?" You were panting, watching him catch his breath while shamelessly looking your body over. His eyes on you made you feel hot all over, swallowing nervously as he took a moment to respond. "I suppose so." his voice is hoarse, making you spring off of him a little faster than you intended. "Sorry if I was too rough." you noticed a welt forming on his wrist from where you had knelt on it, hand reaching out to rub it without thinking. Nanami was frozen for a moment, watching you rub tender circles on the red mark until it slowly began to fade. "Don't apologize, I had fun." hearing THE Nanami Kento tell you he had fun while training was enough to make you feel dizzy for a moment. "Really? You? You had fun getting your ass handed to you?" you tried not to smirk, but the quiet laughter that left him made it impossible "yeah, I did."

Fushiguro Toji

It took no time at all to convince the man to "spar" with you

Toji agreed almost instantly, solely for the fact that he could get his hands on you and it wouldn't be weird.

Ulterior motives are Toji's specialty, so it shouldn't be a surprise that you manage to catch him off guard instantly and get him flat on his back, katana pressed just under his chin

He hadn't expected you to actually be this strong, never mind getting him on his ass within seconds

Though he has to admit, it excites him to no end

"Eh? I win again, Toji? I have a feeling you just like me straddling you." You were caging him, thighs on either side of his waist as you kept the blade pressed to his chest, feeling his heartbeat thump erratically. "Aw, you caught me red-handed sweetheart." he practically purred, watching you get off of him with an eye roll. “C’mon Toji, it ain’t beneficial to me if you’re just letting me knock you on your ass.” You taunt him, watching him get up with ease as he smiled at you. “Ah, so you want me to pin you instead?” You huff out a laugh at that, wiping the sweat from your brow as you nod. “Yeah, kinda the whole point… though I’m seriously starting to question your skills… I don’t think you could pin me to this mat if you tried.” He loved a good challenge… and a bitch with a sharp tongue. You had the man before you completely enthralled now. “Bring it, sweetheart.”

Okkotsu Yuta

He's down to spar if you ask him, but he's going to hold back

You know you stand no chance at beating him when it comes to curse energy which is why you opt for hand-to-hand

Needless to say, Yuta doesn't hold back after you get him pinned to the mats within ten seconds.

You're not fragile, nor are you weak. So, Yuta quickly realizes how insulting it would be if he tried to hold back with you. What he hadn't expected was for you to be genuinely stronger

Two hours later, you're both collapsed on the mats, sweating and panting as you try to give your aching bodies a proper break.

"I underestimated you, so hard." Yuta wheezed, head turning to look at where you were sprawled out on the mat. “I know you did.” You chuckle, not at all offended by this information. “When did you get so strong?” His question was genuine, genuine enough to have you turning your head to look at him too. “When you were training in Africa.” You chuckled, sitting up and noting the bruises forming on his biceps. “I did a number on you, huh?” You moved closer, fingers gingerly tracing the black and blue marks. Trying to ignore the way goosebumps erupted across his skin. Yuta flinched a bit, not because it hurt but because you were touching him so softly. “D-don’t worry about it. I don’t mind, really!” He squeaked, warmth blossoming across his cheeks as you laughed. “At least let me patch you up, it’s the least I could do.” But your tone only had the poor man turning a deeper shade of red.

Itadori Yuji

His hands are rated E for everyone.

Yuji is trilled when you ask him to train with you

Yuji knows better than to hold back, even if you’re a woman. He knows you’re strong and that it would be doing you a disservice to even think about holding back

Yuji is mildly surprised when you’re able to keep up with his hand-to-hand combat skills. Cursed energy easily goes to you but he figure he'd have some advantage with physical combat.

Needless to say, it excites him heavily, especially since most prefer to just train with strictly curse energy.

“Dare I say I won?” You tease the pink haired man, one hand on his wrists while your thighs rest on either side of his chest. Sweaty and breathless, Yuji sighs, nodding his head and throwing in the towel. “You’re amazing.” He comments as you get off him, wiping your sweat with your shirt before flopping down on the mat as Yuji sits up. “So are you, Yuji! You’re crazy strong.” You smile, eyes fluttering shut as you try and ease your racing heart. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so strong or fast! I-I don’t want that to sound rude or anything…” you laughed as he quickly tried to ease the worries you didn’t have. “I don’t take any offense, Yu. I think of it as an advantage. When opponents underestimate me it’s usually too late.” You tease, using your foot to tap his thigh. He nodded, hanging on to every word you spoke. “I see, it’s pretty cool honestly.” He flashed you that familiar grin, one that always made a smile tug at your own lips. “Thanks, Yu.”

Fushiguro Megumi

Absolutely refuses until you mention that Yuji’s trained with you plenty of times

Even then, he’s reluctant as you drag him into the training room and explain you’d rather just do hand-to-hand combat and save using curse energy for another day

Megumi thinks he has the advantage, assuming you’re underestimating his combat abilities

That is, until you actually start sparring. Before he knows it, he’s getting flashbacks to years prior when he’d ask Gojo to train him

The last thing he expected was to be tossed across the room by you, hitting the mats with a hard thump.

“Oh fuck! Megumi I’m sorry!” You squeaked as he groaned, sitting up a moment prior as you crossed the distance and sat next to him. “D-don’t be.” He choked out, heat flooding his face. “Are you hurt? I didn’t think you’d go that far!” Once he shakes his head, you begin to laugh a bit. “I really sent you flying.” Megumi looks up at you, glaring just a bit as you chuckled. “Yeah, any harder and you may have sent me through the damn wall… when the hell did you get so strong?” You sigh, laughter subsiding as you shrug. “I dunno, maybe I’ve just always held back when training with you.” You shot him a wink, standing up again and creating space. “Are you ready to go again? Or are you tapping out?” You smirk, watching the determination light up his green eyes. “Bull shit I’m tapping out, we’re just getting started.” Megumi is getting to his feet, readying himself in a fighting stance as you smile. “Alright then, don’t blame me if you actually go through the wall next time, Meg.”

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teapartyprincess4two · 1 month

Note

nick x yapper!bsf!reader is a must

Talkative- N. Sturniolo

pairing: Yapper!reader x BestFriend!Nick

classification: platonic SFW head cannons

warnings: use of y/n, slight cursing (bitch is said too many times)

inspiration: request^^

summary: head cannons of Nick with a yapper bff!

Talkative- M. Sturniolo (Matt’s Version)

Talkative- C. Sturniolo (Chris’s Version)

—

☆SFW

Nick loves to talk, everyone knows this to be a true fact. No one has been able to keep up with his talkative persona, but when he met you, he met his match.

☆ You have a habit of barging into Nick’s room unannounced with your phone in hand, a bag of snacks in the other.

☆ “BITCH, YOU WON’T GUESS WHAT I JUST HEARD!” you announce, throwing yourself on the bed next to Nick.

☆ Nick rolls his eyes but despite your rude intrusion, he can’t even be mad. He’s desperate for the gossip, “I’m not guessing, just tell me.”

☆ “Actually… wait, let me guess.”

☆ You love teasing Nick about how handsome his brothers are. You don’t even have a real crush on either of them, it’s just fun to watch his reactions.

☆ A straw rests in your mouth, your eyes trained on the most handsome guy you’ve ever seen across the food court. You’re practically drooling.

☆ “Girl, what the fuck are you looking at?” Nick asks, following your gaze.

☆ “Oh just the sexiest man I’ve ever seen… well, after Matt of course,” you reply, a sly smirk on your face.

☆ Nick doesn’t respond, eyes squinting in annoyance.

☆ “Chris can get it too with that long, sexy hair. Oh, and Matt with his tattoos. I swear if they weren’t your broth—”

☆ Nick cuts you off before you can finish, “BITCH, ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!” You burst out in laughter.

☆ You’re the only person, other than Matt and Chris, that can make Nick completely crack up with your witty jokes.

☆ “Holy shit, you’re actually insane,” Nick wheezes, wiping the tears.

☆ He’s clutching his sides, the laughter overtaking him completely.

☆ Your entire friendship is full of love, but that doesn’t mean that you’re not ready to playfully roast each other.

☆ When the roast is especially true, he shoots you a middle finger.

☆ “Fuck you,” he laughs, never taking anything you say too seriously.

☆ Sometimes you say things that Nick completely disagrees with, but he never shuts you down because he loves a good debate.

☆ “Nick, that’s literally wrong! How would the chicken come before the egg?!” you exclaim.

☆ “Where would the egg come from without the chicken?!” he’s getting excited, scooting closer as the debate progresses.

☆ “You’re so wrong, dude. Just admit it.”

☆ “IT’S LITERALLY THE EGG!”

☆ On the rare occasion that you two are fighting, he’s not in the mood to hear anything unless it’s an apology.

☆ His fingers are pinched together, the pinkie and pointer finger straight up in the air. “Quiet coyote, Y/n. Quiet coyote.”

☆ “Boy, shut the fuck up,” you laugh, shoving his hand away.

☆ He eventually gives in, rolling his eyes and preparing to listen to your rants.

☆ When you’re hanging out with a group of friends, it quickly turns into you and Nick talking over each other to tell a story.

☆ “Nick, shut up! Let Y/n speak!” Matt shouts, becoming tired of the constant interruptions.

☆ Nick pauses completely, side eyeing Matt in annoyance. You stop talking too because it’s not as fun without Nick’s energy to bounce off of.

☆ The two of you stay awake past midnight almost every night, your phones illuminating your faces as the FaceTime call enters the fourth hour.

☆ It’s just you two in your own rooms giggling and whispering through the phone.

☆ Eventually, when one of you gets tired, the other has to pull a conversation topic from the depths of your mind to keep the other awake.

☆ “You did not just say that,” you gasp, in shock at Nick’s statement.

☆ “Bruh, what you just said was worse,” he replies, a dumbfounded look on his face as he point to you with his hand.

☆ “Oh true.”

☆ You’re constantly interrupting him to take pictures for social media photo dumps. Whether it be off guards or full on photo shoots.

☆ “WAIT SHUSH! POSE FOR THE PICTURE!” you exclaim. Nick rolls his eyes, pausing mid yap sesh.

☆ Nevertheless, he puts on a smile and poses.

☆ “Let me see,” Nick yanks the phone, examining the pictures. If he doesn’t like it, he simply hands the phone back to you and poses again.

☆ Just like everyone else, the two of you have bad days sometimes.

☆ “Hey…” his voice is quiet, his head peering through your cracked bedroom door.

☆ You’re curled up under the covers, small sniffles escaping every so often.

☆ “How are you, bae?” Nick asks, throwing in a corny nickname to make you laugh.

☆ Your response is sarcastic, “Never been better.”

☆ “Bitch, fuck you,” he chuckles, but there’s no true anger in his voice. He kicks his shoes off and joins you under the covers, ready to listen to you recount your day and your troubles.

☆ Nick is ready to defend you no matter what.

☆ If he ever hears anyone talking badly about you, or even mention your name, he’s interjecting the conversation.

☆ Sometimes he doesn’t even know the previous context, but he’s ready to fight whoever is talking shit.

☆ Nick never turns down the chance to talk, even if he’s really busy.

☆ “I can call back if you’re busy.”

☆ “No, bitch! Tell me!”

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: this is short, mostly bc it doesn’t have a NSFW section like my other head cannon posts (for obvious reasons). But I hope you still like it!

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @hearts4chris @maryx2xx

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

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