#DO YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST SAY THINGS AND GET AWAY WITH IT??? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

incognit0slut · 1 day

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Stress Relief

You convince your husband to take out his anger on you when he comes home very tense.

Warnings: (18+ MDNI) dom!spencer, sub!reader, oral (f), reader in handcuffs so light bondage?, choking, unprotected penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare and domestic bliss because he’s still our beloved spencer

Words: 5k for 5k milestone celebration! TYSM ILY💘💘

A/n: I combined two requests asking for him to get all angry/frustrated because an unsub had a particular thing for winding him up (from anon 1) so he needs some kind of smutty release (from anon 2). You know who you are.

You could tell something was off.

A sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach as the front door creaked open, and instead of the usual lively greeting from your husband, you were met with silence. It was as though he was physically there and yet you could sense his absence in the air.

"Spence?" You called out, stepping out of the kitchen. When there was no response, you tried again. "Baby, are you okay?"

Your feet guided you down the hallway where you found him standing by the door with his back facing you. Even from behind, you could sense the foul mood he was in. His shoulders seemed more tense than usual, his hair slightly disheveled, and there was an edge to his movements as he closed the door with a loud thud.

"Babe?"

His response was brief, his gaze flickering towards you before quickly darting away, almost as if he were intentionally avoiding your eyes.

"Hey."

"Hey?" you echoed. "That's all I'm getting?"

When his eyes met yours again, you could practically feel the tension radiating from him. It was clear that he was angry, his usual calm demeanor seemed to be replaced by a subtle but palpable edge. There was a tightness in his jaw, a clenched fist by his side, and his usually warm gaze now held a hint of sharpness.

Only one thought crossed your mind whenever he came home like this.

"Bad day at work?"

He slowly nodded.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head.

"Do you want a hug?"

He hesitated momentarily, his brows furrowing slightly as if debating whether to accept your offer. Then, without a word, he closed the distance between you. His arms enveloped you, pulling you close as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. Your hand instinctively found its way to his hair, fingers gently running through the soft strands.

"Oh, honey, you're so tense," you noted as your other hand trailed along his shoulder. "Is there anything I can help with? A massage? A nice warm bath maybe?"

You felt him shake his head against you, but you persisted, wanting to offer him comfort in any way you could. When your hand smoothed down his back, his hold on you tightened. When your fingers brushed the nape of his neck, you felt his warm breath caress your skin.

Then it happened—soft lips brushed against the spot under your ear, tentative at first, before growing more urgent. It wasn't the tender, affectionate kisses you were used to, but a different kind of intimacy that felt almost desperate. His lips nibbled and sucked gently at your skin and it became clear to you what he wanted.

"You want another kind of release, baby? Is that what you want?"

His lips momentarily paused against your neck, his arms loosening their grip around you before he rested his hands on your hips. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Because—” he stopped, his grip on your body tightening. “Because I don't feel like myself right now."

You grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing him away just enough to see his face. "What makes you say that?"

Spencer held your gaze. How could he explain to you that he was on the verge of acting out his frustration? That he was so close to losing control?

He knew how difficult he could be when anger took hold of him. In his younger days, he wouldn't hesitate to fire off sassy remarks and snarky comments, letting his emotions dictate his behavior. However, as he matured, he learned better to hide those emotions behind a composed facade.

But tonight felt different. Despite his best attempts to maintain his control, he could feel his anger slipping away, and it was unfair to burden you with it. Especially when you were offering yourself to him, so sweet and so pretty, when he knew love wasn't exactly what he could offer you right now.

So he decided to release you, his grip loosening as he stepped back.

"Forget it," he muttered under his breath before turning towards your shared bedroom. Your brow furrowed as he walked away, leaving you standing there with your mouth slightly agape, bewildered by his sudden withdrawal.

"Spencer Reid," you called after him, your voice laced with a hint of irritation as you followed him. "I wasn't done talking to you."

He paused, his hand halfway to his tie before he loosened it with a sharp tug. You leaned against the bedroom doorway, crossing your arms as you continued to study him. His lack of response only fueled your growing annoyance, but you knew better than to escalate the situation into a fight.

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you spoke up, your voice steady but tinged with frustration. "Honey, I can't help you if you're acting this way."

"What makes you think I need help?"

"The way you're wrestling with your tie gives it away," you replied, your words laced with a hint of sarcasm.

He shot you a pointed look, clearly unimpressed by your remark. "I don't need your help."

Your frown deepened. "Seriously? You're just going to shut me out like this?"

"I'm not shutting you out," he countered, moving around the room. "I just need some space."

"Well you're doing a pretty damn good job of it," you shot back, your patience wearing thin as you pushed yourself off the doorway. His jaw clenched, but he remained silent, his actions focused on undoing the button on his wrist now. You scoffed at his lack of response again.

"Oh, so now you're giving me the silent treatment?" When it seemed evident he was trying to ignore you, you pressed on. "Fine, keep your silence, let me do the talking."

His eyes flickered momentarily at you before he turned around, undoing the button of his shirt. You watched him quietly as he continued to avoid your gaze.

"Spencer," you began, your voice softer now. "I know your job can be hard, and I know you're going through a lot right now, but shutting me out won't make it any easier."

“I've already told you, I'm not trying to shut you out."

"Then what are you doing?" you pressed. "I tried offering you help when you didn't want to talk about it. And the one thing I can help you with, the one thing I'm sure will help you relax, you refused."

You let out a frustrated sigh, hating how much your voice wavered now.

"Spence... you—you didn't even want to have sex with me."

His shoulders stiffened at your words, finally turning to face you. "You think I don't want to have sex with you?"

You swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in your throat. "I don't know what to think anymore," you admitted. "You're giving me the cold shoulder, it’s hard not to take it personally."

The room seemed to close in around you, suffocating in its silence. Then, you watched as he began to walk towards you. One step. Two steps. Until his presence loomed over you, casting a shadow that suddenly made you feel small and vulnerable.

"I'm refusing to have sex with you right now not because I don't want to," he said, his voice dangerously low. "I'm refusing because I'm trying to protect you."

You frowned, confusion furrowing your brow. "Protect me from what?"

There was a moment of silence before he replied, “From myself."

You felt a knot tightening in your stomach, goosebumps forming on your skin as you struggled to comprehend what he was trying to say.

“I… I don't understand."

"I don't want to risk it. I'm afraid that if we... if we cross that line, I might hurt you."

"Spencer," you whispered in disbelief, as if his words were the most absurd thing you'd ever heard. "You would never hurt me."

He shook his head. "You wouldn't be so sure if you knew half of the thought in my head right now."

You faltered for a moment, taken aback by his words. Then your gaze involuntarily flickered down his body, tracing the lines of his open shirt and the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze moved lower, taking in the way his pants hung low on his hips, and the trail of soft hair leading downwards.

You swallowed hard.

"Tell me then," you challenged, your voice trembling slightly as you met his gaze again. "Tell me how you'd hurt me."

He studied you, assessing, calculating. "You won't like it," he warned.

"And what if I do?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of surprise flashing across his features. "You don't know what you're asking for."

"I know what I want."

He regarded you for a long moment, weighing your words carefully. Finally, he stepped closer, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, "You really want to know what I'd like to do to you?"

You held his gaze. "Yes," you replied. "Tell me."

His lips curved into a faint, almost rueful smile. With a slow, deliberate movement, he reached out and traced a finger along the curve of your jaw. "I want to use you," he murmured. "I want to feel you, to taste you. I want to make you scream."

You could feel the heat traveling through your body, a heady mixture of desire and anticipation flooding your senses. You reached out, fingers trembling as they brushed against his chest, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.

"I want to control you," he continued, his gaze darkening. "I want to tie you up leave you bruises, mark your skin. I want you helpless, begging for mercy."

He tilted your chin up, his eyes locking with yours.

"I want to see how far you'll go for me."

Your breath caught in your throat as you drank in his words, and you couldn't deny the heat spreading between your legs. "And what if I want that too?"

A tense silence settled between you. Then slowly, almost as if testing the waters, he wrapped his fingers around your throat, simply holding you there. "You don't mean that."

"Try me," you dared, holding his gaze. "Put your hand between my thighs and see just how much I mean it."

His grip around your throat tightened ever so slightly while his other hand hovered at the waistband of your cotton pants. You felt a jolt of anticipation as he slipped his hand inside, your breath hitching as the pad of his calloused fingers dipped inside your panties.

A soft hum of approval escaped his lips when the slickness of your arousal coated his skin.

"Would you look at that? Barely even touched you and you're already this wet?" A low gasp fell between your lips as he found your clit. "You really want this, don't you?"

You could only manage a whimper in response, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Tell me," he insisted, his breath hot against your skin. "Do you want me to stop?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to find your voice. "No," you finally managed to gasp.

With deliberate slowness, he trailed his fingertips lower, teasingly circling your entrance. He started with gentle strokes, keeping his fingers only on the outer side as you tried to bite back a moan that threatened to slip out.

“You dirty girl,” he muttered, and you feel yourself getting wetter as his finger continued to touch you teasingly. Then slowly, the grip on your throat loosened before his hand moved to cup your cheek.

“I need you to be sure," he whispered, "Because once we cross that line, there's no going back."

Your eyelids dropped lower as you chewed on your bottom lip, feeling the weight of his desire hanging in the air. It was a heady mix of uncertainty and anticipation, but one thing was clear—you wanted him.

You wanted him to use your body.

“Use me however you like,” you confessed. "I-I’m all yours.”

His lips were on yours in an instant. There was no mercy in his kiss, only raw desire and urgency. He kissed you as if he needed to breathe in your air, his lips moving desperately against yours, his tongue seeking entrance to taste you.

His hand then left your pants to cradle your face, holding you gently yet firmly as he explored every inch of your mouth, leaving you breathless and wanting more. Finally, he pulled away, his chest rising and falling heavily as he caught his breath.

He looked down at you, his gaze intense, and saw the dazed expression in your eyes. Your touch, taste, and scent clouded his vision as you trembled in his arms, the soft sounds of your labored breath sang in his ears.

Mine, mine, mine.

"Now listen to me," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I'm going to leave you for a while, and when I come back, I expect to see you lying on the bed naked with your legs spread apart."

You swallowed hard, eyes slightly going wide. You felt his hand gripping your jaw.

"Do I make myself clear?"

You quickly nodded. "Y-Yes."

His grip tightened momentarily before he released you, his gaze piercing as he held your eyes for a moment longer. Then, without another word, he turned and left the room.

With trembling hands, you began to undress, each piece of clothing dropping to the floor until you stood bare before the bed. The cool air prickled against your skin as you slowly climbed onto the bed.

You brought your feet onto the bed before spreading your knees apart. It felt weird, you had never felt so exposed and vulnerable, yet you couldn't deny the arousal pooling between your thighs. And then you heard him, his footsteps gradually coming closer and your heart pounded in your chest as you gripped onto the bed sheets.

His tall frame filled the doorway as he took in the sight before him, his eyes lingering between your legs. He watched your chest rise and fall, watched the way your legs fell apart even more as if you were offering yourself to him. Without a word, he approached the bed and stripped off his shirt.

Before you could catch your breath, he stood over the bed beside you. "Put your arms above your head."

You hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of his gaze, but then slowly, almost instinctively, you complied, raising your arms above your head as instructed. You watched as he reached behind his back, and your heart raced as you glimpsed the glint of metal in his hand.

He didn't say a word as he reached for your wrists, securing them above your head with the cold metal of the handcuff, restraining you to the bed. The click of the cuffs echoed in the room before he stepped back, his eyes fixed on you with a predatory gleam as if he was admiring his handiwork.

Your pulse quickened as you lay there, exposed and at his mercy and you couldn't help but squirm under his gaze. He moved closer, his fingers trailing lightly along your skin, and you shivered, both from the chill of the metal and the warmth of his touch.

"You look so pretty like this," he murmured. "So helpless, yet so willing."

Your eyes followed his movement as his fingers moved to unbutton his pants. Then he was completely naked, and even though you had seen him like this countless times, the sight of his cock never failed to make your cunt clench in anticipation. He was thick and hard, with veins pulsing along its length and droplets of wetness glistening at the tip.

The bed sank under his weight as he positioned himself between your legs. You gasped when he leaned forward, the underside of his cock teasingly brushing against your wet folds as his lips met your collarbone. You bit down on your bottom lip as he kissed lower, stopping at your left breast, where he suckled on the supple skin just above your nipple.

His mouth latched onto your skin after taking a moment to try and keep himself from rushing into things. But he was a simple man. His lips worked precisely and diligently, and you watched as he left marks on your breasts, his teeth gently sinking into your flesh here and there, his warm saliva coating the faint markings.

The kisses left on your sensitive skin resulted in you whining for more. Spencer felt a rush of satisfaction like no other, his touches growing more urgent with each sound that escaped your lips. His tongue glided over your plump breasts, teasing and tantalizing, until finally, his mouth enveloped your nipple.

You squealed, squirming underneath him, and he smiled against your skin, his lips forming a knowing smirk as he continued to suck while his thumb flicked the nipple he wasn't focusing on. There was no doubt you would be left with bruises tomorrow morning.

Your eyes drifted downward just as he looked up, his gaze meeting yours, and you couldn't help but whine when the tip of his tongue circled your nipple teasingly. You reached out, craving the sensation of your fingers in his hair, only to feel the metal of the handcuffs digging into your skin.

"It's torture, isn't it? Not being able to do anything," he taunted with a laugh, shifting his attention to your other nipple. "But I guess that's the fun part.”

You whimpered as he softly bit your sensitive bud, and your back arched off the bed in response. He leaned back, admiring the marks he'd left on your skin.

"God, look at you," he murmured as his gaze lingered on your flushed skin, the swell of your breasts rising and falling with each breath. "I could do this all night."

Slowly, he lowered himself back down, his lips tracing a path from your chest down to your stomach. You squirmed, anticipation coiling tightly in your belly as his warm breath ghosted lower. His hair tickled your legs, and he took the opportunity to turn his head slightly to the side, immediately pressing a hot open-mouthed kiss against your inner thigh.

You gasped as he sucked your skin into his mouth, teeth grazing over the flesh as if he was intent on marking every inch of your body. His lips continued to trail along your thighs but never quite reaching the place you craved him the most.

For someone with pent-up emotions, his movements were agonizingly slow. It was frustrating, the way he toyed with you, drawing out the anticipation until you couldn't bear it any longer.

"Please," you whimpered, the chains rattling softly against the headboard as you continued to squirm beneath him.

He paused, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he looked up at you. "Please what?"

"Pl-Please touch me."

He kissed over your mound as he hooked an arm under your leg. His other hand reached for the heat radiating between your thighs before two of his fingers brushed along your outer lips, dragging your arousal along your skin. "Like this?"

You groaned as he kept on teasing you, stroking you with featherlight touches. “More," you pleaded desperately, almost pathetically. "Please."

His fingers stretched your folds, his gaze fixed on the glistening wetness, on the way your cunt clenched around nothing. "You're so pretty, you know that?"

"Spence..." you breathed out, feeling his breath achingly close to your heat.

He didn't respond with words. Instead, he lowered his head, his breath hot against your flesh. The minute his tongue touched you, you were already a writhing, whimpering mess. Your head began spinning, nerves and pleasure swooping into one big fuzzy mess in your mind as his tongue teased up and down your slit.

"Oh my god," you whined the moment his mouth circled your clit before sucking on it, sending waves of pleasure along your body. And then, just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, you felt his finger at your entrance, and without warning, he pushed in his digit, sending your head tilting back with a desperate gasp falling from your lips.

His groan reverberated against your skin as your walls clenched around him. He pushed his finger deeper, curling it inside of you as his tongue lapped at your dripping folds. With each movement, he pressed his face even further into you, relishing the sensation of your wetness coating his jaw.

Your eyes drifted downwards at the same time he looked up, locking gazes with him, and you let out the most filthy cry of pleasure. He held your gaze as his tongue quickened its pace, sucking your clit even harder as he added another finger inside you.

Your mouth gaped open as you felt the delicious stretch, and you couldn't help but buck your hips towards his face. Spencer always had a fixation on pleasuring you, but not like this—it was never like this. He seemed desperate, almost possessive, as if he couldn't get enough of your taste.

He continued his relentless assault, his fingers pumping inside you with a steady rhythm while his tongue worked tirelessly on your swollen clit. The squelching sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of your dripping walla was so lewd that it made his cock stir against the bed.

You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you, the heat spreading like wildfire through your veins. Before you knew it, your climax hit you hard, without warning, without mercy, and you were gasping his name over and over.

You shivered and trembled beneath him, tossing your head back even farther, squeezing your walls around his fingers and your legs around his head. But he didn't stop or even slow down. Instead, he pulled his fingers out of you, only to push your thighs apart even when your legs were shaking uncontrollably.

"Stop moving," he ordered as he leaned in, tasting you all over again. He didn't care that you were a complete mess, that you were still reeling in from your climax, that you were trying to move back away from him. All he cared about was giving you the best pleasure imaginable, and he was intent on seeing it through.

"Spence—” you gasped when his nose brushed your clit. “I-I can't—"

He gently held your fragile body in place to prevent you from running away from his mouth. "Hold still and give me another one."

How could you not relent when he treated you like this, so considerate yet so rough? You groaned, your eyes meeting the ceiling as you felt his mouth continue its relentless assault on your cunt. The sensation was overwhelming, yet despite your protests, you couldn't deny the building pressure.

Your muscles tensed. Your breathing hitched. You gasped for air. And just as the waves of pleasure threatened to consume you once more, you surrendered, letting out a pathetic cry as your body convulsed with the force of your climax.

His tongue lingered over your sensitive skin, savoring the taste of your release, before he finally withdrew, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. He then lifted his head, your juices glistening on his lips as he watched your heaving chest.

Spencer had never been so thankful for his eidetic memory. He took in the sight of your hands, bound above your head, the rise and fall of your chest as you panted, the tousled strands of hair framing your face. His gaze lingered on the way your legs willingly parted for him, your skin flushed and pussy swollen, all because of him.

It was a sight he wanted to etch into his memory forever.

You bit your bottom lip as his gaze lingered on you, feeling your body flush under his scrutiny. Then, as if something within him shifted, he reached for you, urging your body to turn until you were facing sideways, the chains rattling softly as you moved.

He settled behind you, and your heart quickened as you felt him grab your leg, lifting it in the air. With one hand gripping your thigh firmly, he positioned himself between your legs, his hard cock pressing against your slick folds.

You could feel the warmth of his body pressed against your back, his breath ghosting over your neck as he leaned in closer. With a deep, guttural moan, he eased himself into you, every inch of him sliding effortlessly into your wetness. You couldn't help but arch your back in response to the sensation of being filled so completely.

"Fuck," he murmured, the curse slipping past his lips in a breathy whisper. It sounded foreign coming from him and yet it only encouraged you more. You pushed your hips back into him, meeting his slow, deliberate thrusts.

"Needed this so much," he confessed, his breath coming out in ragged pants against the nape of your neck. "You have no idea how much I've wanted you like this for so long."

Your head fell back onto his chest, completely enveloped in him—the scent of his skin, the warmth of his touch, the rhythmic movement of his cock thrusting inside you.

"Thought it was wrong of me to take control of you," he muttered, his breath hot against your ear. "But you're enjoying this as much, aren't you?"

You whimpered, unable to form words as the pleasure consumed you and you felt him picking up his pace. The room was filled with lewd noises of your wetness along with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

"You like being helpless like this? You like it when I fuck you while being cuffed to the bed?"

Your breath hitched at his words. His hand left your thigh, but only momentarily. The crack of sound pierced the air, followed by a surge of sensation coursing up your leg. The realization hit you like a bolt of lightning—he spanked you.

And you liked it.

"Answer. Me," he demanded, each word punctuated by the rhythm of his thrusts.

"Yes," you managed to gasp out. "I-I love being helpless."

He let out a sound of pleasure as he released your thigh, only to tease your clit with his fingers. You gasped, your head thrown back as he applied just the right amount of pressure, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You felt the intensity building, the familiar coil tightening in your stomach as he continued to pump into you, his fingers moving fast against your clit.

You tried to speak and warn him about your upcoming orgasm but you couldn't even think properly. The squelch of his cock driving into you roughly rang in your ears and with a sharp inhale, you felt the tension within you reach its peak. Your muscles tensed, your breath caught in your throat, and then, with an explosive release, you cried out his name.

He groaned as he felt you pulsating around him, your walls gripping him tightly. He continued to move within you, riding out your orgasm as his thrusts grew harder, more urgent until he couldn't hold back any longer.

"I need to see you," he breathed as he pulled out of you. Then he flipped you onto your back, guiding one of your legs over his shoulder as he settled between your thighs once more. The change in position brought you closer, the heat of your bodies mingling as you met his gaze.

Without a word, he pushed himself back into you, the slick heat of your cunt enveloping him. You watched him through half-lidded eyes, feeling your body growing sticky, every inch of you glistening with sweat, but his gaze remained fixated on you, unwavering and intense.

"So pretty," he murmured, his hand finding your face and cupping your cheek, absorbing your features in the dim lighting of the room. "My beautiful wife."

You whimpered as he dragged his hand down your skin, thumb brushing over your lips as he felt your hot breath on his fingertip. He watched your eyes switch between widening and fluttering half shut while he began pumping into you.

Spencer couldn't keep his eyes off of you as you took his cock eagerly, your breasts bouncing each time he thrust forward, your mouth hanging open with your tongue slipping out of your mouth. A whine followed through as his hand moved down to your neck, practically holding you in place as his hips collided against your own.

He gave a slight pressure around your throat, and your head began to loll against the mattress, chin pointed in the air in pleasure. The squeezing sensation was now beginning to take over your body, spreading from across your cheeks, to your ears, and up to your eyes, tears pooling right at the corner. The feeling even reached your stomach, tightening and coiling with the signal of your impending orgasm.

Was this your fourth orgasm? Your fifth? You couldn't keep track; all you knew was the overwhelming sensation prickling your skin. The bed below you felt as if it was on fire. The metal digging around your wrist burned with absolute pleasure.

His thrusts grew more intense, each movement raw and unrestrained, as if he was pouring all his pent-up emotions into you. He seemed to lose himself in the moment, his grip on your neck firm but not painful, but it was enough to make you gasp, your body trembling with pleasure, eyes rolling at the back of your head.

You were instantly gone.

A filthy cry fell between your lips as another orgasm crashed over you, more intense than the last. At some point you were gasping for air, feeling your body going limp but he didn’t stop. His hips had a mind of their own. You could feel them beginning to move like they were possessed, with no regard for your pleasure, and in a way, no regard for his.

“Oh god—fuck!” You cried, arching your back as much in this position.

He groaned and leaned in, his arms pressing against the bed on either side of you as he pushed your leg up to your shoulder. He tried to kiss you, but the force of his movements made it hard. Instead, his lips hovered just above yours, both of you breathing heavily and moaning into each other's mouths.

Eyelids drooped a bit too low as your mouth went completely ajar, exhaling weakly. It didn’t take long for another wave of pleasure to rush through your body. You convulsed beneath him, thighs quivering violently as you tried to angle your body away from him, the pleasure almost unbearable now.

Through the haze of your orgasm, you caught a glimpse of him throwing back his head with his eyes screwed shut. Then he finally groaned—his movements slowing, breath sputtering from his lungs as he exploded, pumping once, twice, three times all before coming to a halt, cock twitching inside you.

You watched the sweat bead down his forehead as you both worked silently to relax your bodies, pulses pounding in ruthless rhythm. With a deep, contented sigh he finally slid himself out of you before going through his discarded pants on the floor.

After a moment, he returned to you and unlocked the handcuff from your wrist, the sound of the lock clicking echoing in the room. The chains fell onto the bed with a soft thud as he gently took hold of your hands.

“Are you okay?"

You nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. "I'm okay."

He pressed a tender kiss to both of your wrists, his lips lingering over your pulse for a moment. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked anxiously, his eyes raking over your body. "Was I too rough? Did I—""

"Spencer, relax," you whispered, you took his hand in yours. "I'm good. I promise."

"You sure?" he asked, his face still tight with concern.

"Yes, more than good. Just come cuddle with me?"

He hesitated, his eyes scanning over your body for a few seconds longer. After he seemed satisfied you really were okay, he lowered onto the bed beside you and you drew his head to your chest. Your fingers gently played with his hair, watching as he slowly relaxed into you, throwing one of his arms across your stomach.

"Thank you," he whispered. "I... I think I needed that."

Your attention shifted to his face, happy to see his expression finally somewhat peaceful as he lay just above your breasts. His eyes were closed, the tension you'd noticed on his face when he'd arrived entirely gone now.

Gently running your fingers through his hair, you whispered, "Of course, baby. Anytime you need me, I'm here."

His lips curved into a small, contented smile as he nestled closer to you. "I love you."

A surge of warmth filled your chest at his words. "I love you too," you whispered back. "But are you okay? Do you want to talk about what happened at work?"

You felt him shift as he shook his head. "Maybe later. I just want to hold you right now."

You gently kissed the crown of his head before pulling him closer. Spencer sighed happily as he snuggled closer to you, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against your chest. He then reached over your breasts, his thumb trailing over the marks he had left on your skin.

"I didn't realize you enjoyed that so much."

You shrugged the shoulder beside his head. "It's hard not to. I mean, I think I've always liked it when you're in control, and that doesn't only apply to sex."

He leaned back to look at you. "Really?"

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah. Remember the first time we started dating and someone broke into my apartment?"

"How could I forget?" he replied, a frown tugging at his brows as he recalled the memory. “That was one of the scariest moments in my life.”

"Right. You thought some serial killer was targeting me when it was just a random robbery. But the way you handled the situation..." you continued, your voice softening. "When you took charge and made sure I was safe, I realized how much I trusted you. And I remember thinking, 'Damn, my boyfriend's pretty cool.'"

His frown melted away, replaced by a warm smile at your words. "You thought I was cool?"

You chuckled, nodding as you met his gaze. "You're cool, smart, and hot at the same time," you teased. "What I'm trying to say is, I like it when you're in control because I like to depend on you. You make me feel safe and cared for."

His expression softened even further, a tender warmth filling his eyes. "I like it when you depend on me too," he confessed softly. With a gentle tug, he sat up, bringing you along. "Come on then, let me care for you now."

You looked up at him. "Yeah? What do you have in mind?"

"I think we both need that nice warm bath."

You smiled, already feeling the tension in your muscles ease at the thought of a soothing bath with him. "Will you wash my hair too?"

He pushed a strand of hair off your face, his heart swelling with affection at the look in your eyes. How could he resist when you looked at him like he hung up the moon for you?

"Of course," he replied without hesitation. "I'll do whatever you want me to do."

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #gifwriting #spencer reid x reader smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n

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arieslost · 1 day

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getting into a silly argument with lando just for him to pull the “oooh you wanna kiss me so bad right now it’s embarrassing” card and blah blah blah you can go where you want from there 😙

this was so cute, thank you for sending this in! i hope you like it <3

kiss me | ln4

you’re sure you’re seeing things.

you’re used to seeing fancy cars all the time now, what with having lived with your boyfriend in monaco for the better part of a year, but you’ve been able to keep track of said fancy cars. so you know when there’s a new one.

a new one in your parking garage, right next to lando’s 765lt. meaning it’s in your parking spot that had never once harbored a car until this morning. and now there’s another 765lt there. in your favorite color, no less.

“lando norris!” you yell out the moment you’re through the doorway to your shared apartment.

the deer in the headlights look on his face is priceless. you can practically see the cogs turning in his head as he tries to figure out what he could’ve possibly done to upset you.

“hi baby,” he says carefully, starting to step towards you when he’s stopped by you holding a hand up.

“no, you’re not going to sweet talk your way out of this one.”

he blinks at you a few times, watching as you take off your shoes and start pacing back and forth.

“did i forget something?” he chances, taking another step in your direction like he’s approaching a wild animal.

you glare at him. “forget something? like the car in the parking garage?”

“ohhhh,” it clicks then, and you watch, infuriated, as a smirk grows on his face.

“i don’t know why you’re smiling. how dare you?”

“how dare i?” he laughs, clearly entertained. “you’re always complementing my car. i figured you’d like one of your own.”

“so you just buy me a car?!”

he starts to admonish you, to try and sweet talk his way out of this, when he pauses. “you’re happy about this.”

“i most certainly am not,” you disagree instantly, immediately getting flashbacks to when you saw the car and became giddy at the mere possibility of it being yours.

“you most certainly are,” he argues, now approaching you with ease.

“get away from me, norris,” you threaten weakly, stepping back with every step he takes towards you.

“i don’t think i will,” he shrugs, grabbing your wrist gently and tugging you into his body, and you can’t resist his embrace. “i think you’re so overcome with excitement that it’s manifesting as something else entirely.”

“it’s a car, lando. how many times have i told you that i don’t need these kinds of things?” you narrow your eyes at him, resting your chin against his chest.

“i know you don’t need them, pretty,” he sighs, kissing your forehead. “but i really wanted to get it for you. you’ll look so sexy driving it.”

you roll your eyes, pushing away from him. “i hate you so much.”

“you looove me,” he coos, following you as you walk into your bedroom.

“go away. i’m mad at you.”

“are you?” he asks, leaning against the doorway as you pull out loungewear to change into.

you glare at him again, hating how good he looks just standing there looking at you.

“i knew it. you wanna kiss me,” he states, like it’s obvious.

“what? i don’t think so,” you respond, turning your back on him as you change.

“i do. you gave me that look. you know the one.”

“i have no idea what you’re talking about.” you pull your shirt over your head and reach for a hair tie on your nightstand, just to give yourself something extra to do so you don’t have to look at him a little longer, otherwise your indignant mindset will crack.

“you wanna kiss me so bad,” he teases.

“no thanks.”

“you wanna kiss me so bad it’s embarrassing. you can’t even look at me.” he points out, and damn him for it.

you look at him. and promptly blush the moment you meet his eyes.

“i knew it,” he sings triumphantly, waltzing over to where you stand fiddling with your hair tie.

“i’m mad at you,” you reiterate.

“fine. you’re mad. i’m sorry, but i can’t return the car. well, i could. but i’m not going to. kiss me.”

“you’re insufferable,” you whine, once again relenting when he gets his arms around your waist.

“and you want to kiss me, so just do it.” he squeezes his eyes shut and puckers his lips cutely, and, well, what else are you supposed to do but kiss him?

he hums happily against your lips, gently stroking your hair even when you part. “can i braid it for you?”

you want to argue with him and tell him to stop being cute, but you’ve never be able to resist him.

“thank you for the car, lan,” you mumble as he sets to his task. “i love it.”

“what do you love more, me or the car?”

“the car, obviously.”

he gives your hair a playful tug, and you giggle, reaching back to pinch his hip.

“i’ll keep this in mind for next time.”

“next time?!” you make eye contact with him in the mirror next to your nightstand, and he just smiles innocently in the way that never fails to make you melt.

damn him.

word count: 860

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: wishing my f1 driver boyfriend buying me a mclaren 765lt was my biggest life problem rn. also i finished writing this like 20 mins before posting so if there’s anything wrong pls tell me

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff @personwhoisther @bernelflo

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creatingblackcharacters · 3 days

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"Let's Have a Talk, First"- Stereotypes, pt 1

Come sit down. You and I, before we get into any of the things I'm sure you're impatient to know: we need to have a come to Jesus talk, first.

There are some things that I've been asked and seen that strengthens my belief that we need to have a reframing of the conversation on stereotypes in media away from something as simple as "how do I find the checklist of stereotypes to avoid". Because race- and therefore racial stereotypes- is a complex construct! Stands to reason then, that seeing, understanding, and avoiding it won't be that simple! I'm going to give you a couple pointers to (hopefully) help you rethink your approach to this topic, and therefore how to apply it when you're writing Black characters- and even when thinking about Black people!

Point #1: DEVELOP THE CHARACTER!! WRITE!!

Excuse my crude language, but let me be blunt: Black people- and therefore Black characters- will get angry at things, and occasionally make bad choices in the heat of the moment. Some of us like to fuck real nasty, some might be dominant in the bedroom, they may even be incredibly experienced! Others of us succumb to circumstance and make poor decisions that lead to crime.

None of those things inherently makes any of us angry Black women and threatening Black men, Jezebels and BBC Mandingos, and gangsters and thugs!

Black people are PEOPLE! Write us as such!

If all Black characters ever did was go outside, say "hi neighbor!" and walk back in the house, we'd be as boring as racist fans often accuse.

I say this because I feel I've seen advice that I feel makes people think writing a Black character that… Emotes negatively, or gets hurt by life and circumstance, or really enjoys hard sex, or really any scenario where they might "look bad" is the issue. I can tell many people think "well if I write that, then it's a stereotype" and to avoid the difficulty, they'll probably end up writing a flat Black character or not writing them at all. Or- and I've seen this too- they'll overcompensate in the other direction, which reveals that they 'wrote a different sort of Black person!' and it comes off just as awkwardly because it means you think that the Black people that do these things are 'bad'. And I hate that, because we're capable of depth, nuance, good, evil, adventure, world domination, all of it!

My point is, if you write your character like the human being they are, while taking care to recognize that you as the writer are not buying into stereotypes with your OWN messaging, you're fine. We have emotions, we have motivations and goals, we make decisions, and we make mistakes, just like anybody else. Write that! Develop your character!

POINT #2: YOU CAN'T CONTROL THE READERS!!

Okay. You can write the GREATEST Black character ever, full of depth, love, nuance, emotional range, all those things…. And people are still going to be racist about them. Sorry. There is absolutely nothing you can do to control a reader coming from that place of bias you sought to avoid. If it's not there, TRUST AND BELIEVE, it'll be projected onto them.

That passionate young Black woman who told the MC to get her head out of her ass? Yeah she's an angry Black bitch now, and bully to the sweet white MC. Maybe a lesbian mommy figure if they like her enough to "redeem" her. That Black gay male lead that treats his partner like he worships the ground he walks on? Yeah he's an abusive thug that needs to die now because he disagreed One Time with his white partner. That Black trans woman who happened to be competing against the white MC, in a story where the white MC makes comparable choices? Ohhhh they're gonna be VILE about that poor woman.

It really hurts- most especially as a Black fan and writer- knowing that you have something amazing to offer (as a person and creative) and people are gonna spit on that and call it "preference". That they can project themselves onto white characters no matter what, but if you project your experiences onto black characters, it's "pandering", "self insert", "woke", "annoying", "boring", and other foul things we've all gotten comments of.

But expect that it's gonna happen when you write a Black character, again, especially if you're a Black writer. If you're not Black, it won't hurt as personally, but it will probably come as a shock when you put so much effort in to create a lovely character and people are just ass about them. Unfortunately, that is the climate of fandom we currently exist in.

My favorite example is of Louis De Pointe Du Lac from AMC's Interview With The Vampire. Louis is actually one of the best depictions of the existential horror that is being Black in a racist White world I have ever seen written by mostly nonblack people. It was timeless; I related to every single source of racist pain he experienced.

People were HORRIFIC about Louis.

It didn't matter that he was well written and what he symbolized; many white viewers did NOT LIKE this man. There's a level of empathy and understanding that Black characters in particular don't receive in comparison to white counterparts, and that's due to many of those stereotypes and systemic biases I'm going to talk about.

My point is, recognize that while yes, you as the author have a duty to write a character thoughtfully as you can, it's not going to stop the response of the ignorant. Writing seeking to get everyone to understand what you were trying to do… Sisyphean effort. It's better to focus on knowing that YOU wrote something good, that YOU did not write the stereotype that those people are determined to see.

POINT #3: WHY is something a stereotype?

While there are lists of stereotypes against Black people in media and life that can be found, I would appreciate if people stopped approaching it as just a list of things you can check off to avoid. You can know what the stereotypes are, sure, but if you don't understand WHY they're a problem and how they play into perception of us, you'll either end up writing a flat character trying to avoid that list, or you're going to write other things related to that stereotype because "oh its not item #1"... and it'll still be racist.

For example: if you wrote a "sassy Black woman" that does a z formation neck rotation just because a store manager asked her something… that's probably stereotype. If you thought of a character that needed to be "loudmouthed", "sassy", and "strong" and a dark-skinned black woman was automatically what fit the profile in your mind, ding ding ding! THAT'S where you need to catch your racist biases.

But a dark-skinned Black woman character cursing out a store manager because she's had a really bad, stressful day and their attitude towards her pushed her over the edge may be in the wrong, but she's not an "angry Black woman". She's a Black woman that's angry! And if you wrote the day she had to be as bad as would drive anyone to overstimulation and anxiety, the blow up will make sense! The development and writing behind her led to this logical point (which connects to point #1!)

I'm not going to provide a truly exhaustive list of Black stereotypes in media because that would ACTUALLY be worth a college credited class and I do this for free lmao. But I am going to provide some classic examples that can get y'all started on your own research.

POINT #4: WATCH BLACK NARRATIVES!

As always, I'm gonna push supporting Black creators, because that's the best way to see the range of what you'd like. You want to see Black villains? We got those! Black heroes? Black antiheroes? Assholes, lovers, comedians, depressed, criminals, kings, and more? They exist! You can get inspired by watching those movies and reading those books, see how WE depict us!

I've seen mixed reviews on it, BUT- I personally really enjoyed Swarm, because it was one of the first times I'd ever seen that "unhinged obsessed murderous Black fan girl" concept. Tumblr usually loves that shit lmao. Even the "bites you bites you bites you [thing I love]" thing was there. And she liked girls, too. Just saying. I thought it was a fun idea that I'd love to see more of. Y'all gotta give us a chance to be in these roles, to tell these tales. We can do it too, and you'd enjoy it if you tried to understand it!

POINT#5: You are NOT Black!

This is obvious lmao, but if you're not Black, there's no need to pretend. There's no need to think "oh well I have to get a 100% perfect depiction of the Black person's mind". That's… That's gonna look cringe, at its best. You don't have to do that in order to avoid stereotypes. You're not going to be able to catch every nuance because it's not your lived experience, nor is it the societally enforced culture. Just… Do what you can, and if you feel like it's coming off hokey… Maybe consider if you want to continue this way lol. If you know of any Black beta readers or sensitivity reviewers, that'd be a good time to check in!

For example, if your Black character is talking about "what's good my homie" and there's absolutely no reason for him to be speaking that way other than to indicate that he's Black… 😬 I can't stop you but… Are you sure?

An egregious example of a TERRIBLE way to write a Black character is the "What If: Miles Morales/Thor" comic. I want to emphasize the lack of good Black character design involved in some of these PROFESSIONAL art spaces, because that MARVEL comic PASSED QA!! That comic went past NUMEROUS sets of eyes and was APPROVED!! IT GOT RELEASED!! NO ONE STOPPED IT!!

I'm sorry, it was just so racist-ly bad that it was hilarious. Like you couldn't make that shit up.

Anyway, unfortunately that's how some of y'all sound trying to write AAVE. I promise that we speak the Queen's English too lmao. If you're worried you won't get it right, just use the standard form of English. It's fine! Personally, I'd much rather you do that than try to 'decode AAVE' if you don't know how to use it.

My point is, if you're actively "forcing" yourself to "think Black"… maybe you need to stand down and reconsider your approach lmao. This is why understanding the stereotypes and social environment behind them will help you write better, because you can incorporate that Blackness- without having to verbally "emphasize how Black this is"- into their character, motivations, and actions.

Conclusion

We need to reconsider how we approach the concepts of stereotypes when writing our Black characters. The goal is not to cross off a checklist of things to avoid per se, but to understand WHY we have to develop our Black characters well enough to avoid incorporating them into our writing. Give your Black characters substance- we're human beings! We have motivations and fears and desires! We're not perfect, but we're not inherently flawed because of our race. That's what makes the difference!

And as always, and really in particular for this topic, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

#creatingblackcharacters #character design #black characters #black character design #black culture

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footygirl114 · 2 days

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Soldado (Alexia Putellas X Reader)

One of the prompts inspired me, so here ya go. It's definitely rusty but please let me know what we think!

Prompt: “Don’t just say that and then walk away!”

Walking up to the front door of the Putella’s home was one the most nerve wracking experiences you have ever experienced in your first 18 years of life. This home had become your sanctuary in the last 3 years, the family had taken you in and made sure you were loved and cared for and in return all you did was ruin the best and only friendship you ever had.

You had grown up with an absent mother and a drunk father, to say your childhood had been rough was an understatement. You were able to fend for your self by the age of 6 and you knew to hide whenever your father came home after 8pm. When he wasn’t drunk he was a half caring father, but you could never shake the black eyes and bruises you learned to hide. The only good thing he ever did for you was to make sure by the age of 15 you had been a good enough football player to be in the training with the Espanyol team.

This is where you met Alexia Putellas, she was this young superstar but she still befriended you. It didn’t take her long to see through the lies of where the bruises came from, and one late practice where you avoided going home she got you to spill the truth. From then on she made sure that holidays, school vacations, and everything in between you were invited to stay with her family.

Her mom became like a mother you never had, and Alba was the sister you never had. But Alexia she just always remained Alexia, you never knew what that meant until you turned 18. You had finally realised that she was more than just anything to you, and that you were madly in love with her. Never being able to keep a secret from her, you confessed your feelings to her 3 weeks ago and you haven’t heard from her since she walked away without responding.

Which brings you back to today, trying to work up the courage to knock on the door of the only place you would ever consider a home ready to say your goodbyes to the family you wish you still had. The last 3 weeks have been a whirlwind, and it took your drunk father almost breaking your arm and sending you to the ER to finally realise you needed to get out. You had walked the streets of Barcelona aimlessly trying to find a solution, and when the universe showed you a sign you jumped at it.

Shaking your head you gained the courage to reach up and knock at the door of the house. While you wait for someone to answer you hope that you can get this out without breaking down.

When the door opens you come face to face with Alba and you say softly “Hola, Albs.”

Alba smiles softly and leans against the door, blocking your way in, and she asks “what are you doing here Y/N?”

“I need to talk to Ale” you tell her deciding not to drag this out.

She crosses her arms over her chest and asks “Why would I let you do that? She shut down and hasn’t said anything for the last weeks and we haven’t seen you, you must have hurt her Y/N.”

Shaking your head you tell her “I never meant to do that Alba, but I promise I just need to tell her one thing and then I am gone.” You know you sound like your begging and you hope the desperation in your voice helps.

Before she can respond Alexia shows up at the door behind her sister and says “Alba its okay I got it.”

Alba turns and looks to her and then turns back to you and says “if you hurt her again I will hurt you.” She finishes with a glare and then moves back into the house.

Alexia steps outside on the porch with you and softly shuts the door. You take a moment to take her in, knowing this will be the last time you may see the women who has your heart. She’s in her most comfortable state, a pair of footy shorts, a soft hoodie (you note is one of yours) and barefoot.

You both stand there in silence for a minute and she finally breaks it and says “I am not ready to talk to you about it.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I came here to tell you one thing and then I will be out of your hair, you wont need to worry about avoiding me” you tell her softly.

“what? Y/N whats going on?” she asks softly stepping closer to you.

You take a step back and say “I’m leaving, I quit the team and I joined the army. I know you don’t understand it but I need to not be here anymore, and I need to do something thats for me, and will ensure I get away from him.”

She stares at you and doesn’t say anything but a soft “Y/N.”

“No, don’t do that, this isn’t about you this is for me. I love you Alexia and I will always be in love with you but I cant stay on the side line of my own life anymore, I need to become the best person I can be and get out from this dark cloud that is hanging over here. Its for the best, I cant wait to see you become the superstar I know you will be, but I cant do that here, watching it and knowing that you don’t love me back, that you aren’t in love with me. So this is goodbye Ale”

You slowly move down the stairs and move to wipe the tears under your eyes, and you make it to the end of the walkway when she moves and says “Don’t just say that and walk away from me Y/N! Thats not fair.”

You pause and turn your head towards her and says “what’s not fair is losing everything I have ever wanted because I have never been able to lie to you, I am doing something for me and you have to understand that.”

You don’t let her add or say anything else as you turn your back on her and move to your car, you hop in and start the engine driving away to your new life without looking back.

8 YEARS LATER

After 8 years of being a proper solider and training to better your self, you were finally able to settle down, and of course Barcelona would always have a hold on your heart. During your basic training your superiors noticed how easy it was for you to learn and communicate in many languages, add in that you knew how to fight and take it hit it made you the perfect soldier for a special ops team.

During your 8 years of active duty you spent 3 tours in Iraq, Afghanistan and other War torn countries. And when you were not on tour you were either in the UK or the USA learning and bettering your skills to be a better help for the team. It was a long 8 years of constantly being on the go and when an offer came up to go back to Barcelona and be no longer on active duty you took it.

They wanted your skills to help teach younger inexperienced soldiers and you craved the freedom and your bones ached for a stable home for your self. The Barcelona Police force hired you and were more than happy to have you work for them and also assist the army in their training.

Barcelona was where you had your own personal demons, and you knew after 8 years of running it was finally time to slow down and face those demons head on. It helped you were much stronger and mentally tougher then when you were 18 and you knew you needed to face them head on.

What you didn’t expect was to have to face one of them only a month into your new life in Barcelona. You had been out on patrol with your partner and were called to an assault at one of the smaller beaches in town. You got out of the passenger seat of the car and did a scan of the surroundings and you noticed a small crowd gathered at the edge of the sand and one person lying on the ground.

You met your partners eye and you both walked over, you with your military training on high alert, one hand on the hilt of the gun at your hip, your eyes roaming the surroundings. When you got closer to the crowd you almost stopped, when you noticed who was standing off on the edge of the crowd but you pushed through when you saw the guy on the ground get up and start to run at someone else in the crowd. You and your partner both sprang into action and got in between them and the guy you were holding tried to take a swing at the other and you easily subdued him and had him on his back with his hands locked behind his back in the blink of an eye.

Once he was secure with the handcuffs on your hip you hopped up and hauled him up with you, you turned and met your partners eyes who nodded at you and had his guy also in cuffs. He turned to the crowd and asked for any witnesses to what happened, as you moved your guy to the car and sat him in the back seat.

You sat him down and asked him his side of the story. After listening to his side you closed the door and left him in the car as a second patrol car rolled up for the second guy. You nodded to them and mentioned the guy int he back of your car and you walked back to the crowd. You took a deep breath and readied your self to face the first of your demons.

“Who’s next to be interviewed?” you asked your partner as you walked up beside him, and he pointed to the group of 3 girls to the left.

Moving towards them you introduced your self “Hola, I am Officer Y/L/N and I will need to see your IDs and then I can take your statement.” They all handed their IDs over and as you were matching them and recording their names and information you couldn’t help but take a peak at the women who held your heart.

You hadn’t seen her since that day 8 years ago on her mothers front steps, you had followed her career and you knew she was in the middle of a miracle season and she was on track to win everything. Seeing her on the computer screen through a grainy stream wasn’t the same as seeing her in person. Just looking at her was slowly igniting that spark inside you that you thought you had buried 8 years ago.

“Can one of you tell me what happened?” you ask them ready to take notes and keep this professional.

“so basically, we were lying here and the guy in your car came up and started to give us a bit of a hard time, but were used to it. SO we told him to leave us alone, and then the guy there with your partner walked up and tried to defend us, and the other guy just threw a punch at him.” You had their IDs so you knew this was Maria Leon who explained it.

“they started going at each other and thats when Ale called 911, the commotion drew more people over and they stopped fighting when they had a crowd and then you guys showed up.” Jennifer Hermoso explained the rest to you.

“thank you, so to be clear, the one in the back of the car threw the first punch and harassed you?” you asked wanting to finish this up.

Maria smiled and said “I wouldn’t say harassed, we can take care of ourselves, but yes he started it and threw the first punch.”

“And you both agree?” you ask.

“Yep, he did” Jennifer agrees.

Alexia just nods and remains silent through the whole exchange. You nod and say “okay this clears things up, someone may be in touch but you are free to go.”

The two of them smile and say their thanks and move to leave, but Alexia remains standing in front of you silent.

“ale you coming?” Jennifer asks her and it seems to shake her out of it and she nods and moves to gather her stuff.

You nod at nothing and move to go back to your partner, you both agree you to the statement you got from different people and then you move to walk back to the car together. Before you can get half way there you turn back and look toward Alexia and you meet her eyes, as she’s still watching you.

It takes your partner nudging you for you to break contact and you move to get into the car. before you can fully sit you hear “Officer Y/LN” yelled out behind you and you turn and see Alexia moving quickly towards you, you close the door and step towards her and away from your partner hearing the exchange.

“Yes Alexia?” you ask her softly as she stops a foot from you.

“You’re back?” she asks you to the point.

“I am”

“for good?” she asks you again straight to the point.

“I think so yeah”

“okay then.” she says and moves to walk away.

“thats it?” you ask her confused.

She shrugs and half turns to you and says “How does it feel being on the other end of someone walking way from you? It sucks, being left to wonder what they mean and what they are going to do.”

You can feel the pang in your heart listening to how broken she sounds and you ask her “Can we talk about it?”

“now you want to talk? What happened to talking 8 years ago?” she turns on you half shouting and you know that she’s drawn and scene.

“ale, please can we talk somewhere not here, and not when I am on duty?” you ask her.

She looks around and shakes her head and says “you know where to find me, if you even want to.” As she finishes she jogs away towards her friends and you are left standing there wondering if this is a demon you will be able to tame, or if you were doomed to be in love with someone you can never have.

#woso imagines #woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #espwnt x reader

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a11eya · 2 days

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TITLE: do you still think about me?

PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

SUMMARY: Okay, so you had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on Bakugou when you were both in high school. He was kind of your first love, if you believe in those kinds of things. But you got over it. It's fine.

You see Bakugou sometimes at hangouts, at get-togethers. He's in your orbit, or you're in his, because of your mutual friends. You're all adults now, so it's fine. It's a little weird, but fine.

You're supposed to be on vacation, at a place that's hours away from Musutafu. You're not sure what you've done to deserve it, but Bakugou's here too. And instead of both of you pretending the other doesn't exist, as usual, he's talking to you. He's everywhere. It's fine.

(It's not fine.)

TAGS: pro hero Bakugou Katsuki, aged-up characters, friends to lovers (being generous with that friends label lol), fluff, pining, eventual smut

The ryokan’s lobby is bustling, voices a soft buzz echoing through the space. Some guests are like you, waiting for check-in, and other guests are partaking in the complimentary drinks and snack bar. It all calls to mind vacations you went on with your family, growing up.

Sighing, you sink into an armchair, letting the fatigue from a long trip on a train and subsequent car ride sink in, shed off.

“Here,” Rie says, setting a cup of tea and a cookie on the table in front of you. She sits in the chair across from you. “You’re grumpy because you haven’t had any sugar today. Eat these. There’s more up front, at the snack bar.”

“Thanks mom,” you say, and she leans forward to flick you on the forehead. You wince.

“Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean you can get away with your sass. Especially while we’re on vacation,” she tells you, then lifts her own cup of tea to her lips. You scrunch your face up at her.

Her eyes flick past you, and she blinks rapidly. You recognize that expression—up to no good.

“Oh hey,” she says, affecting a casual tone. “Look who just walked in.”

Rie waits for you to look, but you’re not so easily led around. You narrow your eyes at her. She raises a brow at you. A moment passes.

Your curiosity’s too strong. You turn and regret it.

It’s Bakugou. Bakugou Katsuki. What the hell is he doing here?

You immediately swing back around, scowling deeply. You can feel your ears getting warm.

She gives you a Cheshire grin, finger gunning you. “It’s your first love.”

“Rie, I will leave.”

She scoffs. “Yeah, right. And miss out on the massages we booked? The onsen? I don’t think so.”

“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” you say darkly.

She snickers, tilts her head at you. “You don’t want to say hi?”

“Not really, no,” you say. “And if you call him over, I’ll kill you. Hanta will be sad, but he’ll get over it.”

Rie laughs. “I don’t know about that. He is dating me, after all.”

“I’ve known him longer. He’ll forgive me.”

The two of you switch over your attention to an approaching receptionist.

“Thank you so much for waiting,” he says. “Your room is ready now. Please follow our staff. We’ll take care of your bags.”

You let them take your luggage, too distracted by staying out of Bakugou’s line of sight to pay attention to the small talk the receptionist’s making. Thankfully Rie’s chatting cheerfully with him, leaving you to your task.

As you enter a hallway leading off the lobby area, you catch a last glimpse of Bakugou. He’s speaking to a staff member at the front desk area, presumably checking in. He’s alone. You wonder if anyone will be joining him, or if he’s here by himself.

Shaking your head, you push away those thoughts. It’s none of your business. This ryokan’s rather large, and it’s popular with tourists and locals alike. You doubt you’ll see him again during your stay.

You stare doubtfully at the email Sero forwarded you, then look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed.

“Hanta, this is a luxury onsen ryokan. And you want me to go with Rie? Why aren’t you going?”

Sero claps his hands together in front of his face. “Please? The agency denied my time off request because we’re so busy. You gotta know how busy we are, even holed up in your office.”

You frown at him. “The agency denied you? That’s crazy. You haven’t taken time off the whole year.”

“I know, right? Anyway, Rie doesn’t want to go alone, and the reservation at this place is only valid for so long. Cancelling’s not an option.”

You frown. “If they denied you, they’ll probably deny me too, Hanta.”

“Noooo, it doesn’t hurt to put in the request! Plus, you haven’t gone on vacation in years. Treat yourself! This can be my months-in-advance birthday gift to you.”

You try one last time. “Are you sure Rie even wants to go with me? I know you want this to be a surprise, but maybe you should ask her if there’s anyone else she’d want to go on a trip with.”

Sero gives you a look, as if you’d just said something unbelievably stupid. “I’m not even going to respond to that.”

You snort, smiling. “Alright, alright. Thanks, Hanta. I’ll take all the pictures of Rie and send them to you if the agency does grant me the time off.”

Sero slings an arm around your shoulders. “Thanks, bud.”

“I miss Hanta,” Rie says, collapsing on her back onto the bed.

You push both of your bags to the side, to be unpacked later. The entire far wall of your room’s lounge area is glass, with a door leading out to the outdoor area and open-air bath, and you give in to your urge to step outside onto the wood, deck-like floor.

The bath rises from the floor to your right, rectangular, spacious. The staff member told the both of you it’s fed from the onsen, and the steam it’s giving off dissipates into the cool spring air. The bath and deck are built to overlook a large pond with koi swimming in it, giving the impression that where the deck ends the water begins. The far side of the pond is lined with trees and shrubbery. Wooden partitions on either side of this area enclose the space, giving it a sense of privacy.

It’s absolutely gorgeous. And it’s so quiet here. Aside from the ambient water sounds from the onsen on the property, birdsong from the nearby forested area, there’s little to interrupt this emerging feeling of serenity.

“You saw him literally before we left,” you say. “Rie, come out here and look at this view. I call dibs on using the bath first.”

“You could be more sympathetic. We haven’t been able to see each other much this month,” she grumbles, but she comes out to join you anyway.

“Okay, you can use the bath first,” you tell her.

She grins at you, bumping her shoulder against yours. “Thanks, friend.”

“The things I do.” You don’t really mind. You have the entire long weekend to enjoy this place. The peace and quiet are already doing wonders for the tension in your shoulders.

A twinge of guilt passes you in a wave. After the staff member who’d escorted you to your room had given you both a short tour of the space, it really hit you how expensive this all was.

“Rie, you really should’ve come here with Hanta,” you tell her, frowning. “He should’ve pushed for the time off or adjusted the reservation. This is way too nice of an experience to pass up.”

Rie snorts.

“Don’t stress,” she says. “You think he didn’t try all that? It was either keep the reservation with someone else or lose out on a lot of money. I wanted you to come, so don’t overthink, silly.”

You lean your arm against hers. “Thanks, Rie. I’ll get you and Hanta something nice for your birthdays.”

She hums, and the two of you lapse into silence, appreciating the birdsong, the late afternoon sun gilding the pond, the surrounding trees in warmth.

“So, what’s up with you and Bakugou?” Rie asks. “I thought you worked out all those feelings for him back in high school.”

And there goes all that peace. You groan, turning and heading back inside, grabbing your bag and starting to unpack your clothes. Rie follows you, sprawling out onto your bed this time to be as annoying as possible.

“I did,” you say, because not answering would result in incessant pestering. Better to nip this conversation in the bud so it doesn’t come back up again while you’re on this trip. You tell her, “We’re cool. You know that. You go to the same get-togethers.”

Since graduating from UA, you’d kept in touch with Sero, who you’d met because he’d been the hero you’d been assigned to for the management course’s third year project. You became good friends, as Sero’s one of those good boys, best boys, genuinely kind and fun to talk to.

Through your friendship with him, you’d met some of his friends—Kaminari, Kirishima. Mina, Sato. Bakugou.

While you’d befriended the others pretty easily, Bakugou was a different story. And it wasn’t necessarily his fault. He’d chilled out considerably by your third year.

It was because of your cringey, super obvious crush on him during your first year.

You were so painfully obvious about it, everyone in your class knew. It didn’t take long for kids in the other courses to take notice. When Bakugou entered a room you were in, you would freeze and forget what you were saying. You’d sneak glances at him, and your entire body would warm up if your eyes met. Even thinking about it now, as an adult, makes you want to die a little.

Thankfully, whether it was because he chose to willfully ignore you or because he just never found out, your crush ran its course. It helped a lot that you began interacting with Bakugou within social circles because of Sero; it humanized him, made him real to you. The fantasy of a crush can’t survive knowing someone, getting to know them, you found.

Still, probably because of that history, you never got close to Bakugou, while at UA and after. You were too embarrassed, and now you’re just not super interested. If you don’t count this past year, since graduation, you’ve seen him only a handful of times, always in passing and never one-on-one.

But if you do count this year, specifically the past six months, you’ve seen him a lot.

At a get-together at Mina’s place. At Todoroki Shouto’s birthday a couple months back. At a dinner with Rie, Sero, Kirishima, and Mina a few weeks ago. You figure he’s had some free time open up, to accept the hangout invites that he once left unresponded to in the group chat. It’d make sense, since he’s at this ryokan when everyone knows he’s a workaholic.

You’re happy for him. Work-life balance is super important. And you guys aren’t getting any younger.

“No, you guys are weird together,” Rie says.

You throw a pillow at her. To your annoyance, she catches it easily.

“What do you mean by weird?” you ask.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. He always looks like he’s bitten into a lemon when he sees you.”

You roll your eyes. “Great. Can we stop talking about Bakugou now?”

“Last question, I swear.”

“Last question for the entire trip about him,” you say, narrowing your eyes at her.

She sighs, as if this is a huge burden on her. “Deal. I was just thinking—what did you even see in him when we were teenagers?”

“Okay, but why are you thinking about this at all,” you say.

“Just answer the question.”

“It’s not that deep,” you say, shrugging. “I liked his face.”

“Really?” Rie’s expression, disgruntled and appalled, makes you laugh.

“Don’t act like he’s not objectively really attractive. He’s handsome, be real.”

“Maybe to some people,” she relents. “But his personality cancels it out, carry the two.”

“He’s mellowed out so much over the years,” you say. You feel a little odd, finding yourself defending him. “He’s sweet, when he wants to be. Remember how he got Mina that bracelet she wanted so badly, for her birthday? Or how he picked up those special oranges for Hanta when he went on that one mission?”

Rie looks at you for a long moment. As your words settle into the silence, you begin to feel self-conscious. But it’s not like what you’d said isn’t true. Rie knows this.

Just as you open your mouth to no doubt incriminate yourself further, she leans back on the bed and closes her eyes. “I guess you’re right. You done folding those clothes? I’m hungry. Let’s get dinner. Hanta says it’s kaiseki.”

Dinner is absolutely delicious. Your server tells you and Rie that the chef’s designed the menu to feature ingredients native to the region, ingredients in season. Everything’s fresh, and even dishes you aren’t normally particularly fond of have you cleaning your plate. You feel spoiled.

You take lots of pictures. Of the dishes, of Rie. You send them to Sero.

Hanta: The food looks great! My girl looks even better!!! Send more pics pls

Rie’s pleased when you show her the messages. After fussing over her appearance, she makes you take a picture of her in your room’s outdoor bath, hair elegantly twisted up and off her shoulders, the ambient lighting softly illuminating her face.

“I’m going to take a walk, see what that little bamboo garden looks like at night,” you tell her. She waves at you with one hand, tapping away at her phone, no doubt sending messages to Sero.

“Don’t drop your phone in the water,” you say, and she makes an impatient sound, shooing you.

Smiling, you leave her to it.

Now that it’s nighttime, the ryokan is quieter, more subdued. It’s easy enough to find the bamboo garden. The paths are brightly illuminated, the walkways clear and easy to take. Maybe because it’s the evening, but you encounter few people. Most are partaking in the onsen, unwinding after a long day, you guess. You plan to do so yourself, but you stumble across a dimly lit sitting area overlooking a small pond and waterfall. It’s pretty, and you can’t resist lingering. Taking a seat on a bench, you let your mind empty as you watch the glimmer of moonlight on the water.

“Hey,” a voice says behind you, and you startle, turning.

Bakugou’s standing there, looking uncharacteristically soft and undone in the onsen’s yukata. His hair is a little damp, spikes fallen.

Seeing him in traditional wear takes you aback; you’ve only ever seen him in casual clothes—jeans, shirts, sweats. His hero suit, all sleek lines. The yukata’s a good look on him.

“Oh hey, Bakugou,” you say, then hesitate, feeling awkward. What to say? Should you pretend this is the first you’ve seen of him here?

While you flounder a little, Bakugou walks over to sit in a chair nearby, facing the water. You’re bewildered at this turn of events. You’re surprised he stopped to say hello, let alone sit and have a conversation with you.

“Saw you and Soy Sauce Face’s girlfriend at dinner,” he says. “You on vacation?”

Blinking, relieved, you reply, “Sort of. Long story short, Hanta was supposed to come out here with Rie, but work denied his time off. So I’m the replacement Hanta.”

Bakugou looks at you. His eyes narrow. You shift in your seat, feeling a little bit like a bug under a microscope. Did you say something weird?

“What about you?” you ask, trying to lift the focus off of you. “You here on vacation?”

“...Yeah. For the weekend,” he says, looking back at the pond, exhaling sharply.

For someone on vacation, he doesn’t look too happy about it, you note.

“Us too,” you tell him. “What do you think of the ryokan? I haven’t gotten the chance to explore yet, but what I’ve seen is gorgeous. Did you just use the public onsen?”

“It’s alright,” Bakugou grumbles, and you blink, face scrunching up in incredulity.

“You must have really high standards to say that, sir,” you say, and he snorts. An expression you can’t quite make out in the low light crosses his face, fades. He really is a handsome bastard, you find yourself thinking.

He says something you don’t quite catch.

“Sorry?” you say. Internally, you scold yourself for your idle thoughts. Another part of you argues back that there’s no harm in looking.

“How’d you know I used the onsen?” he repeats, looking a little annoyed.

“Oh,” you say, surprised. Without thinking, you lean forward, reaching out to touch his hair.

Bakugou turns his head sharply; he grabs your wrist on what seems like instinct, halting you. You freeze, mortified.

“I’m sorry!” you say hastily. He drops your hand immediately, like you’re contaminated. You draw back. Flustered, you continue, “It’s just—your hair’s still a little wet. I took a guess. Sorry again, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

You were treating him like he’s Hanta, or Rie, as if you’re close friends. Jeez.

“Forget it,” he says gruffly.

There’s a long stretch of silence, and you begin to think of excuses to make to escape.

Just as you open your mouth with one, he says, “What’re you doing tomorrow?”

“I—I think Rie wanted to check out the town’s morning market, and the temple nearby,” you say. “She likes to sleep in, so we’ll probably do that after my morning run. The staff said there’s a scenic walking trail through the forest, so I’ll probably check it out.”

You force your mouth closed before the rambling continues. Wait, you should ask him the same, right? To be polite?

But before you can say anything, Bakugou grunts, then stands.

“Go back to your room,” he tells you. “It’s getting late.”

With that, he leaves. You sit there for a long moment, staring after him.

“Hey, welcome back,” Rie says from her bed, covered from nose to toes in a blanket. Her eyelids droop in a way that tells you she’s minutes from sleep. “You were gone for a while.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you say, closing the door behind you. Woodenly, you begin to gather clothes to change into. “I’m going to take a quick shower, okay? Go ahead and sleep; don’t wait up for me.”

“Mmkay,” she says, eyes already closed.

You move around as quietly as you can, getting ready for bed.

All the while, you can’t help but think about the conversation you just had. About Bakugou.

For the past couple months, at gatherings with mutual friends, it’s been like this when you talk to each other. Awkward, with a strange underlying tension. You’re not sure if it’s your fault, or his, but. You wish you could be normal around him. It’s only like this with him.

As you climb into bed, getting settled, the memory of him in his yukata flashes across your closed eyelids. The moonlight on his face, cooling the red of his eyes. His hand around your wrist.

Fuck.

Notes: Hello friends! This fic is a very belated birthday fic for our guy, my little muse 🧡 This is intended to be a twoshot, and I hope to have that second part up next weekend. Please look forward to it!

A couple notes, as there are some specifically Japanese items referenced in this fic:

A ryokan is a Japanese-style inn! Onsen are hot springs. So an onsen ryokan is an inn that features hot springs on the property. Here, here, and here are videos you can enjoy of people visiting some.

Kaiseki is a multi-course, traditional Japanese dinner. Some of the videos I linked above show the kinds of kaiseki offered!

Thank you for reading! Hugs and kisses 💕 Until part two!

#happy birthday bakugou loml #i know i have been Not Posting recently but please enjoy this meal!!!!#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugo katsuki x you #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bnha #jess scribbles #fic: dystam?

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woso-dreamzzz · 1 day

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Surgery VII

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You get in trouble

"Have to be quiet," You whisper as you clip Bagheera's harness on.

It was one of the first things your Mami taught you when you were little.

Bagheera mews at you as you pick her up, pushing her into your backpack. You zip it up but still leave a bit of it open so she can breathe in fresh air. That was another thing Mami taught you.

Animals must have little holes in so they can breathe but not big enough holes that they can escape.

"I've got it, cub," Ingrid says, reaching for your bag but you push her hand away.

"I'm a big girl," You tell her, pulling your backpack on all by yourself," Can carry it myself."

Ingrid laughs, fondly ruffling your mane. "Look at you," She says," So grown up."

"I know."

Your bag is a little heavier than usual but you're very determined. You think if you can prove that you can look after Bagheera by yourself than Ingrid will finally take you to the shelter so you can get your own cat.

"Whoa," Mami laughs as you get out of the car with your backpack," Look at you go, cub. So independent all of a sudden."

"I'm a big girl," You tell Mami just like you told Ingrid.

"Don't grow up too fast," Mami says," Or you'll have to move out soon."

You give her a deadpan stare. "Don't be silly, Mami."

You run off after that. You know Mami and Ingrid are going straight to the field so you duck around the corner and pull Bagheera out of your bag.

She mews at you a few times as you finally work out how to clip her leash to your little belt loops. That means she can't wander off without you.

You're very proud of yourself as you make your way into the locker room, chest puffed out.

"Oh, cub," Patri groans with a little laugh," What have you done?"

You frown. "Nothing!"

"Having the cat doesn't look like nothing," Patri says, very pointedly looking at Bagheera."

"We're having a day out!" You announce," So Ingrid knows I can have a ginger cat too!"

Patri full on laughs now. "You're very sneaky. How did you manage to pull this off?"

"I'm mature," You insist," And me and Bagheera are friends!"

"Come on," Patri says," Let's go to the pitch and see what your mums think of this."

"I want a ginger cat," You say as Patri escorts you to the pitch," And I want it to have a proper tail. Bagheera's got a stumpy tail. I want my cat to have a proper one."

"Cub!" Ingrid's voice yells across the pitch and you instantly know you're in trouble. Ingrid doesn't use that voice a lot with you, her grumpy in trouble voice but she's using it on you now. "Why is Bagheera here?!"

Mami looks angry too, arms crossed over her chest and Patri pushes you forward.

"Tell them what you told me."

You take a big breath. "Showing that I can have a cat too."

"Cub," Ingrid says sternly and you wilt.

You sniffle a little as your throat goes all tight like it does when you're about to cry. "I really want a cat, Mama," You say morosely, digging the tip of your shoe into the ground," Just trying to prove I can look after one."

Ingrid massages her temple in annoyance.

"Cub," Mami says sternly," What you've done is very, very naughty. Do you understand that?"

"Sorry, Mami."

"Very naughty," Mami insists," You could have gotten Bagheera very hurt."

"Sorry."

She takes your hand and leads you over to the corner of the pitch, turning you around so you can't see the rest of the team.

"You're four years old now so that means four minutes in time out. Sit here and think about what you've done."

"I'm sorry, Mami!"

"I know but you're still going in timeout."

Mami doesn't take Bagheera from you and she curls up on your lap as you sit there.

You know you sit there for four minutes but it feels like a lot longer until Mami and Ingrid come over.

They sit in front of you.

"You were very, very naughty," Ingrid says to you," Not telling us you took Bagheera could have gotten her very hurt. Do you understand that?"

You nod.

"That wasn't very responsible," She continues," And it doesn't make me think you deserve a cat of your own."

You burst into tears. "I'm sorry, Mama! I was gonna look after her promise!"

You turn your bag upside down and shake it.

Treats for Bagheera fall out as well as a bottle of water and the collapsible bowl you use for Bagheera's beach trips. You've got a blanket too and toys for if she gets bored.

"Oh, cub," Mami says as she looks at everything.

"Left my bag a little bit open so she could breathe," You insist," And made sure it didn't fall in the car!"

Ingrid still looks mad though. "Cub," She says," Bagheera is a very special part of the family. She might have been scared all alone in your bag, did you think of that?"

You shake your head. "I'm sorry." All you can do is keep apologising.

"I can see that but it was still very naughty of you. Do you understand why?"

You nod.

"Why?"

"'Cause Bagheera could have gotten hurt and I should have told you and Mami."

"Well done for saying sorry," Ingrid says eventually," And well done for knowing what you did was wrong. You did a good job in making sure to pack everything Bagheera will need today."

"We can't do much now that Bagheera is here," Mami continues," So you'll have to take care of her today."

You nod. "I will, Mami."

"And when we get home, we'll discuss your own cat," Ingrid says.

#woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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plutoasteroids · 1 day

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PAC How Will Your Future Spouse View You

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

DISCLAIMER THIS IS A GENERAL READING TAKE WHAT RESONATES AND LEAVE WHAT DOESN'T.

Strictly for entertainment purposes.

PILE 1

So, before I get into the tarot bit of the reading the overall vibe I am getting is that you and your future spouse will be that couple that are still doing cute stuff together even in old age. You know those older couples you see on TikTok on dates still happy and very much in love, yeah like that. One word I can use to describe it is cozy, just very warm and affectionate basically feeling like this person is your home. It's going to be like 'I'd rather come home to you then be anywhere else'.

On to the tarot bit, Your FS sees you as someone very confident and optimistic (even if you don't see yourself that way). They see you as being positive and very wholesome. Again, before I pulled cards I channelled and I still got the warmth.

Oh my gosh, if any of you have read The Song of Achilles that's basically it. Before anyone points out to me they were a same sex couple .Yes, I know but I am talking about the relationship dynamic between Patroclus and Achilles.

You may have gone through a difficult time in your life and your future spouse will admire how strong and resilient you are, how you're able to adapt to challenges and changes in environment. You may be the type of person who is connected to both their divine feminine and masculine and they truly find that attractive.

They certainly view you as their other half and I know its cliche to say soulmate but that's all your future spouse is saying. You just give them so much happiness and emotional fulfilment.

'They are my home, my soulmate, my forever'

PILE 2

Ugh Pile 2 your spouse will literally worship you😩. Like you'll tell them your insecurities and they'll just sit there kissing every scar, mark, dimple anything you're insecure about they'll adore. If you're a female or a feminine reading this and you have thick thighs I heard them say 'Come here and crush my skull with those sexy thighs'. Whoever you are you have someone's poor child down horrendous for you.

I think they may be the type to just watch your social media whether you are getting to know each other, dating, engaged or married your social media pages, pictures and videos will always be on their phone screen and they won't go to sleep without listening to a little voice message you sent. Once they get attached baby there's absolutely no getting rid of them, I heard 'You'll have an easier time getting rid of bed bugs'.

When you meet them, they may be a party animal or a player.

Disclaimer it's not toxic obsession more like they will let you be your own person but at the end of the day they are yours and you are theirs, you are their spouse, and they are your spouse and they will forever put you on a pedestal not to the open where they will neglect themselves.

They see you as a prize (again not in a creepy way) You may have options when you meet this person but best believe they'll make sure to stand out and win you over. They see you as the best the world has to offer in terms of what a wife/husband/spouse should be. Your person may have had a few letdowns when it came to love and just know that they see you as a dream come true and again, I know that's very cliche but trust me when Isay they view having you as a spouse as their biggest accomplishment and they want you to know that they'll prove to you every day they are worthy to call themselves your spouse. They feel like you have gone through a period of depression and sadness, and they want you to know that they acknowledge it and they see you as strong every day.

The couple I channelled for you guys is Queen Charlotte and King George from Bridgerton.

PILE 3

First thing I heard 'Sugar Daddy'. This person will spoil you but love you even more. Yes, they may have money and give you gifts but this person truly does love you, care about you and respect you.

They may be older than you that's why people may think that they are your glucose guardian which is not technically wrong and not technically correct either. I feel like that will be a long term joke you two have about them being your sucrose supplier..

They will definitely view you as delicate, I want to say that they are the protective type but not protective to the point of you feeling suffocated by them. They want you to be comfortable and have what you like 'If my spouse wants that watch I'll get it for them'.

They will view you as fun loving, yet you have this air of power to you that they love. Sure, they view you as delicate and they want to protect you, but they also view you as strong and beyond capable of taking care of yourself and those around you basically your spouse is saying 'they want me, but they don't need me'. They know that you can walk away from them anytime and they like that you're always in your power no matter what.

Your spouse admires how you don't need them to feel whole or for financial gain they see you as a breath of fresh air, a change of pace, an adventure.

He may touch you a lot with your consent obviously, like a hand on your waist, shoulder or they may steal little quick kisses. Also, there may be a lot of friendly banter in the relationship.

The couple I channel for you guys is Fallon and Liam from Dynasty.

#free tarot reading #pick a pile #pick a card #future spouse #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #tarotblr #tarot cards #daily tarot #love tarot reading #love tarot free #pagan #paganblr #hellenic pagan #Spotify

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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 2 days

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[Hey, how are you?] Simon Riley*F!Reader

Ten years ago, Simon lost you due to his mistake, and he meets you again after these years of regret.

Hurt and comfort, Happy Ending

“Are you married?”

He always be asked when others see the ring on his finger.

“No.” He answers while taking another sip of his wine, letting the person realize it’s a topic they don’t have the authority to dig in.

He still remembers the vow he chanted as he put the ring on your finger.

The memory is as clear as the day you left the house, and he never saw you again.

It’s his fault, you didn’t shed many tears when he yelled at you, saying that you will never be able to free him from his nightmares, who do you think you are? a fucking philanthropist?

He knew he screwed up everything the moment his taunt escape his mouth.

No, No. I didn’t mean to say that, I need you, I love you, please don’t leave me.

He watched you lower your head, trying in vain to hide your sadness, but your heart was already shattered into pieces, by him, the man who promised to protect you by any means.

I’m sorry.

The words stuck in his throat when he looked at you stepping out the threshold with your belongings.

Please stay.

The greedy wish was buried inside his heart when you stopped for a second. “Bye, Simon. Take care.” you whispered, and disappeared into the aisle.

Ten years, he’s still unable to move on.

He brainwashes himself repeatedly, she will have a better life without you.

Yet he still opens his phone every time he finishes his therapy sessions, looks at your number, and just stares at the screen for minutes.

His thumb lingers on the “call” button but never dares to press it.

Hey, are you doing alright? I’m sorry, I want you back. I went to therapy after that day. I’m not the same person caged in his past anymore.

I miss you so much.

but how selfish he is if he interrupts your life now? Such a nice person like you deserves someone to cherish you nicely, and treasure you with their whole heart.

That’s why he now stands afar from you, watching you behind the veil of autumn’s breeze.

You’re still stunning, time doesn’t deprive your beauty even a bit.

He gazes at you for a long while, and when you turn around and spot him, it’s obvious that you’re in shock and come to a halt.

The world keeps moving, but the time seems frozen between you two, as you both set eyes on each other and never dart.

You head towards him as he starts hesitating to take the first move.

“Hey.” You look at him with a shallow grin on your face.

“Hey.” He mumbles.

The silence fills the air, but no awkwardness, he’s just too indulged in your presence, which he has been dreaming of for years.

Sorry for that day. How are you doing now? Have you married? Have a partner?...

He has too many things he wants to ask, but his thoughts are like matted wool, until his eyes land on the ring on your finger.

“You’re marrie—“ He questions without a second thought, but the words get cut off instantly due to his realization.

because the ring is paired with the one on his finger right now.

It’s not until you chuckle that he’s back to reality.

“Yes, I’m married, about ten years ago? to an idiot man.”

“Why did you marry him? he’s a bloody dork.”

“Good question. or maybe that’s the reason why I married him.” Shrugging, you then meet his gaze with a smile “How about you? Are you married?”

“Yeah, ten years ago, to a woman that’s too precious for me, so I lost her.”

“If you meet her again, what do you want to tell her?”

“I’ve improved. I’ve reached for help and now I’m not the same man anymore.”

“Anything else you want to say?”

“I miss her every single day, and I hope I can have her in my arms again.”

“Well, I don’t know about her.” you step closer to him. “But I’m sure she will love to have some tea with you as her first compensation from you, what do you think?”

He blinks at the hand you reach out at him, and slowly, he takes it into his palms, that’s befitting to drive away the chill.

Your hand fits well in his, like it’s made for him to serve it with all his warmth, and he’s sure that he will never let go of it again.

“My pleasure.”

a/n: lemme give Simon a fucking punch/j

#cod imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon riley imagine #cod x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader

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jeonginsleftcheek · 3 days

Text

Cuddling with Stray Kids

pairing: ot8 x reader

genre: fluff, suggestive

a/n: mentions of sex, mentions of anxiety, this is just my opinion, not proofread, hope you enjoy!🤍

additional notes: i have 12 things in my drafts and they're all over the place but i wanted to post something

Chan:

I feel like Chan gives the best and biggest hugs so you will probably be drowning in his arms with your face buried in his chest or neck. It's probably late at night when you cuddle, and first you talk about your day and complain about your work or studies. Chan will listen to you and throw in a few quips here and there as he holds you and caresses your hair. Then you ask him about his day and he'll talk about his members and funny things they did or said. As it gets later, you both get quieter and Chan's favorite thing is when you put your leg around him and pull him even closer, leaning in and leaving kisses everywhere on his face. Every time you do that it makes him blush, no matter how long you've been together. Even though he usually says he can't sleep, he will fall asleep first in your arms because he feels relaxed and safe. Then you can admire his beautiful face before you drift off to sleep too.

Minho:

I feel like Minho would also love facing you and talking to you while cuddling, but he would love to bury his face in your chest and leave little kisses everywhere. Most of the times he will also leave small bites and nibbles and you always warn him not to start anything cause you really want to take some rest. He always smirks and leaves a few more kisses on your neck. I think he would also love pressing his lips into yours, as his hand slides under your shirt and rests on your back. He would draw little patterns on your skin and his hand would always without a doubt slide down to grip your ass. Can you blame him though, you're hot and he loves you, he just can't help himself.

Changbin:

Changbin would love it if you lay on his chest. He would put his arms around you and caress your hair and face. The sound of his heartbeat will always calm you down, any anxiety of the day will be wiped away as soon as you feel his big arms wrap around you. He would kiss your hair and forehead gently and ask you if you were okay and if you had a good day. You would talk with him but your eyelids would get heavy, it's hard not to fall asleep when he's touching you so gently like he's afraid to disturb you. His presence is calming to you and you feel so loved and safe.

Hyunjin:

Hyunjin would love to be the big spoon and he'd hold you so close to him and so tightly that you think he might want to merge into you. His face would be buried in your hair, he just loves to inhale your sweet shampoo because it calms him down. His hands would be roaming around your body, and he would squeeze you gently a few times. But, Hyunjin can't help himself being this close to you while your perfect ass is pushed up against his middle so cuddling sessions almost always end with lazy sex.

Jisung:

I think Jisung would love being both the big and the little spoon. If he's the little spoon, he'd love it if you held him real tight and also hold his hands at the same time. But, if he was the big spoon, I feel like he'd just grab and hold your boob. Nothing sexual, he just finds it relaxing to hold it and squeeze it like it's a stress ball. On some days, I feel like he wouldn't stop yapping while you cuddle and you would be playfully annoyed at him, so he would annoy you even more on purpose. He'd probably start talking nonsense or he'd start singing with an annoying voice. You would smack his butt and he'd just laugh because he enjoys teasing you. On other days, when he's really tired and in his head, he'd be quiet and he'd let you talk about everything and anything because the sound of your voice calms him down.

Felix:

I think Felix would love to rest his head on your chest or tummy. This boy will be clinging to you like a koala, limbs all wrapped around you so you don't ever think of escaping. He would nuzzle his face in your chest or neck, and if he's laying on your tummy he will bury his face there and leave kisses on your skin. His hands will be all over you as will his lips, he can't help it, he adores you. I think cuddling sessions with him can go either way. Either he's falling asleep as you caress him or because he's a horny little thing he will end up with his face buried between your legs.

Seungmin:

Okay so, I feel like Seungmin would love facing you while cuddling. Even though he's shy and it's hard to maintain eye contact for him, he loves the way you look at him, the admiration in your eyes. He loves the way your eyes crinkle when you smile at him, and the way you caress his cheek and hair. He would hold your waist and run his fingertips on your skin gently. If it's late at night, he'd probably sing you a gentle lullaby, especially if you had a bad day. He'd sing for you whenever anyways. I feel like he'd also love to exchange a few gentle kisses before both of you drift off together, holding onto each other tightly.

Jeongin:

I feel like he'd be the most restless out of everyone while cuddling. He would love to spoon you, but after some time he would just start feeling jittery so he would play with your hair, poke your cheek or start tickling you. Your cuddling session would probably turn into play wrestling, as you both tried to tickle and annoy each other. When you're both almost breathless Jeongin will lean down to kiss you and let's just say that you're not going to sleep soon.

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bookyeom · 1 day

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whatever you say, bro - chs

pairing: vernon x reader word count: 1.2k warnings: kissing, Shrek slander request prompt: "You're cute." "What did you say?" + "are you flirting with me?" "I’ve been trying to do that for three years."

A/N: Thanks so much for all the support on my 700 follower celebration. You guys rock! I'm doing my best to get through the requests, but there were way more than I anticipated so bear with me!

Vernonie [8:59pm]: we still on for tomorrow night?

Your heart leaps, like it always does, when Vernon’s name pops up on your screen.

Y/N [9:01pm]: yeah! see you then, bro

You sigh heavily, throwing your phone down onto the bed beside you and rolling over, pulling your pillow into your chest.

Bro.

It’s a defense mechanism, you know, but it’s getting a bit ridiculous now. You’ve taken to throwing out the word nervously when he gets too close – which seems to be more often than not lately. You’d been worried that your crush on Vernon was getting disgustingly apparent, and so you'd started with this whole "bro" nonsense. Now, you don’t know how to get out of it.

Every time he catches you looking at him and raises a dramatic brow; every time you’re making plans to hang out just the two of you; every time his hand accidentally brushes yours while he hands over a headphone for you to listen to a song – you find a way to call him 'bro'. So that he knows it’s all strictly platonic. Which it’s not, of course – not for you – but his friendship means more to you than anything in this world, and you’re not going to jeopardize that just because you think he’s hot. And kind. And funny.

Sure thing, bro. See you tomorrow, bro. I love movie nights with you, bro. I love when you show me new music or video games and your face lights up, bro. I love your eyes and the way you laugh at your own jokes, bro. While we're at it, your smile is pretty nice too, bro.

You close your eyes with a sigh.

"Thumb war."

"What?"

You’re sitting on the floor in Vernon’s apartment the next day, arguing over which movie to watch. It’s been at least a half hour of back and forth, so you'd decided to take matters into your own hands, and had proposed the most obvious solution.

"Thumb war," you repeat. "Winner gets to pick the movie."

Vernon eyes you warily. "Fine. You're on."

As soon as his fingers curl into yours, you can feel your stomach flutter. His touch sends goosebumps across your skin, and you regret the suggestion instantly, but you must carry on. For honour – and for the fact that if he makes you watch Shrek 2 again you might scream.

You square your shoulders and laugh at Vernon’s face, which has instantly turned competitive. You count down, and as your thumbs begin to battle, you feel the competitiveness in yourself grow, too.

“Yes!” You cry. You have him pinned.

You’re counting down when Vernon suddenly surges forward, your hands falling apart as you let out an ‘oof’ and fall to the ground. You let out a squeak as your back hits the floor with a soft thud, Vernon landing on top of you. His arms are on either side of your head as he pushes himself up a little, chest hovering above yours, and you can audibly hear the way your breath catches in your throat.

"Just shut up and let me pick a movie," he says breathlessly, and you’re sure you've forgotten how to breathe. His hips are between your knees, his chest pressed to yours, and you can feel every part of him against you.

"Make me shut up," come your words, and you regret it immediately. His eyebrows raise, just as surprised as you are, and you swear he falters a little.

"I will," he says back after a pause, and you can’t tear your gaze away from his. "I'll kiss you."

The blood is rushing to your cheeks before you have time to think. Around now would be the time that you look away, but he’s so close that you can’t. Your heart is nearly pounding out of your chest, and you’re certain he can hear it. Or feel it.

Your head is spinning as you force out a laugh before saying, "Okay, bro."

Vernon’s eyes search your face before meeting your gaze again. His expression is serious, and you hold your breath as you wait for him to react.

But all he does is stand up, holding his hands up in surrender. "You can choose.”

For the rest of the night, things feel a bit awkward between you. You don’t comment on it like you normally would, because Vernon hasn’t said anything, which means he’s probably forgotten and it’s just you that’s making it weird now. You make it through your pick, and then he surprises you by picking one of your other favourites to watch as a second movie. It’s sweet, but you’re confused since he'd caused such a fuss earlier.

As the movie progresses, you begin to relax a little. You can feel Vernon’s eyes on you as you giggle to yourself, and you shoot him a glare.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. You turn back to the TV, focusing again when you hear him add, quieter, “You’re cute.”

Your head whips back in his direction. He avoids your gaze this time, the only telltale sign he notices you looking shown in the way he fidgets with the remote.

“What did you say?”

“I said you’re annoying.”

You think ignoring everything that’s just transpired in the last minute is probably for the best.

“I’m about to be really annoying, then,” you quip – and then you begin to quote line after line.

It’s one of his biggest pet peeves, and he knows you’re doing it on purpose. You continue, waiting for him to break. It doesn’t take very long.

"Oh my god. Shut up." You can hear the smile in his voice, and you know you aren’t annoying him that much.

"Make me," you shoot back without thinking, your heart stopping as you quickly remember where those two words had gotten you just a couple of hours before. You think Vernon is holding his breath, too, and you resist the urge to shrink even further back into his couch. Don’t make it weird, it’s fine, you’re just joking, don’t make it –

Vernon’s hand is on your face before you can finish your thought, tilting your chin up towards him – and then he’s kissing you.

When he pulls back, it takes a second for your eyes to flutter open again. And when they do, he’s already looking back at you, unwavering. His thumb brushes against your chin before he smirks and says, eyebrows raised, "I told you I would, bro.”

Your mouth is agape as he drops his hand and turns back to the movie. You feel a bit like your entire brain is resetting as you process what just happened.

“Are you flirting with me?”

“I’ve been trying to do that for like, three years now, so… yeah.”

“You kissed me.”

Vernon looks at you again now, and you absolutely cannot understand how he’s so calm about all of this. Smiling about it, even. “I did. Thoughts?”

Your friend is stoic at the best of times, but his eyes always give him away. When he doesn’t break your gaze, when he just waits while you process, you can see it in the way he’s looking at you — that even if he seems calm on the outside, he’s nervous. Nervous that you’re going to reject him, nervous that he may have overstepped, nervous that you don’t like him back. As if that would even be possible. “I think,” you say slowly, “that the movie can wait a little longer if you wanted to kiss me some more… bro.”

@wheeboo @tae-bebe @waldau @eoieopda @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @lvlystars @seohomrwolf @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @christinewithluv @wqnwoos @iluvseokmin

#vernon x reader #vernon fluff #seventeen imagine #seventeen imagines #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x you #vernon x you #chsfic #my writing #bookyeom700 #seventeen fluff #chs x reader

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literaila · 1 day

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i always think of this whenever i’m abt to sleep

imagine yuji and nobara going over to megumis house during summer break (it’s rlly gojos house cuz yk) and imagine reader sitting on the couch with baby gojo and theyre so shocked gojo has another child😭

“no, satoru, i already told you not to—“

“it doesn’t even make sense,” he’s saying, rolling his eyes like he’s the child here. “why am i supposed to drink water, but she can’t?”

“first of all, you don’t drink water even when i force it down your throat—“

“i am beyond biology—“

“and second of all, because she’s a baby.”

he pouts. “won’t she get thirsty?”

“you literally just gave her a bottle. you stole it from my hands.”

“because i’m bonding.”

even as you bicker, the two of you are staring down at the little baby, watching as her eyes flicker in sleep, her nose scrunching up like she wants you to squeeze her.

and even as you fight, the smile on your face matches satoru’s—adoring, mesmerized by this tiny little thing in his arms.

so mesmerized, in fact, that you don’t even notice when the front door opens. or when three teenagers—stomping, like teenagers do—trail into the house.

megumi walks into the kitchen to grab something, but both yuji and nobara stop when they notice you and satoru on the couch. neither of them says a thing as they listen to your hissing voices—quiet enough not to wake the baby.

megumi walks back into the room, sipping from a glass, and raises a brow at both of his “friends.” they’ve been here before, they know where his room is.

“uh, are we supposed to just ignore them?” nobara asks, giving megumi a weird look.

he looks over—obviously not having noticed this scene—and then rolls his eyes. “yes.”

he turns to walk to his room, mind on textbooks and avoiding his very annoying parents, when yuji grabs his arm.

“but, fushiguro,” the voice says, voice soft and somehow whining. “there’s a baby.”

“and?”

yuji is too busy staring at the bundle in satoru’s arms to answer, and he carefully tiptoes over to the couch, wide smile on his face.

already cooing, of course.

you look up, grinning. “oh, hi, yuji.”

yuji tilts his head, watching as satoru traces tiny circles on baby soft skin.

satoru looks up. “i’m not letting you hold her,” he tells the boy, “it’s still my turn.”

you sigh. “satoru—“

“oh, no, i don’t—i mean, i don’t even know how. i just wanted to…” yuji is staring at the child like she’s an alien, but it took all of three seconds for him to become just as mesmerized as the two of you. “is she… yours?”

yuji’s eyes widen, and he looks perturbed back at megumi. was he not even going to mention his baby sister—

“seriously, dude?” nobara says for the two of them, punching megumi’s arm. “what else are you keeping from us?”

yuji looks back to the two of you, satoru nodding vigorously.

you pull his hair. “no, she’s not ours. we’re just babysitting for a friend.”

satoru coughs and says something that sounds suspiciously like “for now,” under his breath.

you pull at his hair a little harder, grinning at him when he can’t push you away.

“she’s adorable.”

nobara nears the three—four?—of you as well, looking at the baby. “are you sure you can trust him with her?” she asks you, giving satoru a wary eye.

you laugh and satoru pouts.

“it’s just a baby,” megumi says, groaning from behind both of his friends. “what’s the big deal? we have to study.”

“she’s cute,” nobara tells him, “that’s the big deal.”

“don’t listen to him,” you whisper, “he was all over her before he left.”

yuji laughs back at him and nobara huffs.

megumi just rolls his eyes again. “are you two coming?”

you smile at the two of them, then back at megumi. really, he’s sweet. really. “if you’re still here when she wakes up again, you can feed her.”

yuji grins. “really?”

“sure.”

“um,” satoru cough, eyeing you, very disturbed. “that’s my job.”

“you need to share.”

“i’m not sharing my own child—“

“not ours,” you sing, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“but she could be. i recently learned how babies are made, and i think we could pull it off—“

you laugh and megumi groans again. “i’m leaving,” he says, turning and storming down the hall.

“i’ll come and tell you if she’s hungry,” you say to the other two, ruffing yuji’s hair.

“okay!”

nobara gives the baby one last look, and then she’s following megumi out of the room, yuji taking just a moment longer—frowning—but eventually following along.

“i’m serious, you know,” satoru whispers, resuming his circles on her unblemished face.

“yeah, i know.”

“why not?”

“because you’re still a child, and megumi’s just started school—“

“megumi wants a baby more than i do.”

you roll your eyes.

“we’d make a good baby,” satoru says to you, “even cuter than her.”

you sigh, moving even closer to him, your side pressed up against his. “yeah.”

“i’ll wait,” satoru says, “but i know you’re lying.”

“i’m not lying—“

“you almost started crying when she sneezed earlier—“

“no, i did not—“

#okay a little different than suggested #but reader is not giving into satoru immediately #especially with his track record of taking in any stray he finds #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #a typical family #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #satoru gojo x you #jujutsu gojo #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk fanfic #satoru x reader

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mountainsandmayhem · 1 day

Text

God Bless The She Devil Who Made Joel Miller

Pairing: BFD!Joel x F!Reader

18+ only!!!

Summary: After a fight with your boyfriend, your best friend Sarah invites you to say with her at her childhood home with her dad.

CW: Joel be peekin, Joel is mean (but you like it). I’m choosing not to say anything else to not spoil anything so engage at your own risk.

AN: You can all thank @littlevenicebitch69 for this. She asked for being caught, but I am daddy and I know what she really wants 😉 thank you @mermaidgirl30 for being my forever beta xo

Graphics by @saradika-graphics

God bless the absolute angel who brought Sarah Miller into your life. She somehow convinced her dad to let you stay with them over spring break after your boyfriend locked you out of your shared apartment and then refused to answer the phone or let you in. Sweet, empathetic, and dependable Sarah was at your apartment minutes after you called her and didn’t have to say much to her dad to let him allow you to stay.

And God bless the absolute she devil who made Joel Miller and put him in close proximity with you. You have a boyfriend, maybe, you can’t be sure, but you do know you have it HARD for Joel Mother Fucking Miller. He’s exactly the type of man that would classify as a DILF, and you don’t even consider yourself into older men. But Joel isn’t older, he’s experienced and charming and every single thing he does seems to turn you on.

Sarah has been working a day shift at the local grocery store during the break and Joel is off running his contracting business. Joel Miller, sweaty and dirty and building things with his large calloused hands. Fuck, you try to shake that image from your brain because you certainly do not need another image of him to touch yourself too.

You have a job serving in the evenings so the house is quiet and all yours during the day. This afternoon the sun peeks through your curtains and wakes you. Sun dancing along the pale yellow walls of the spare bedroom. You pick up your phone and see that it’s clear and sunny, the perfect day to lay out by the pool that Joel said you could use, “make yourself at home, darlin’, any friend of Sarah is welcome anytime.”

You practically leap out of bed and into your ensuite bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready to lay out in the sun. You rush down the hall in the swimsuit Sarah lent you, a large blue and white striped pool towel tucked under your arm.

You love Sarah, but there’s no chance you’re wearing this ridiculous one piece swimsuit to tan, plus you’re alone so what’s the harm? Joel doesn’t get home until well after 5 pm most nights, Sarah usually around 3 or 4, and she’s seen you naked more than once. Plus the backyard is fairly private, most likely no one will see anything.

Fuck it, you think to yourself, slipping the red lycra straps off your shoulders and then shimmying the suit down your body. The sun immediately warms your skin and that boost of vitamin D already has you feeling lighter and happier. You spread the towel down on the chair and lay on your stomach, tying your hair on top of your head and then grabbing your phone.

You flip through Spotify before settling on the album Ten by Pearl Jam. As the first song floats across the backyard, you rest your cheek on your hands and let the fast paced grunge music wash away your thoughts of your boyfriend and what you’re going to do next week when you go back to school. All that matters now is the sun on your skin.

X•X•X•X•X•X•X

Joel was just about to start working on some paperwork for his next building when he heard movement in the hallway. You must be up for the day, he should probably let you know he’s working from home today, just in case. He wants you to be comfortable here, even if it’s killing him to see you wandering around his house in those small denim shorts you wear to work. Last night he was almost certain he could see your hard nipples peeking out from the fabric of your tight white t-shirt.

Absolutely not, Joel. He scolds himself.

He hears you pad down the hall and then the unmistakable swoosh of the sliding glass door to the backyard. He glances out the window in his office to see you slip the red swimsuit Sarah lent you off your body. His cock was already painfully hard behind his jeans.

She just turned 21. The Angel on his shoulder reminds the devil that’s tempting him from the other side.

His mouth waters as he looks at your body. Your tits are perky, pink little nipples hardening as the air hits them.

She's going through a hard time. The good side of his conscience seems to be losing but he finds an ounce of strength and looks away. He can’t be staring at you.

He tries to focus on this goddamn contract but even little deadline and “initial here” blend together and all he can see in the jumbled words of the page is that little strip of hair that leads to that bundle of nerves he so badly wants to suck on. When he looks up again you’re laying face down, round and perky ass facing his window and on display for him. She must not know he’s home, and now she’s going to think he’s a total fucking creep if he says something now.

She’s your daughter's best friend. No, she’s off limits. Beyond off limits. Get it together, Miller.

And then your music drifts through his cracked window. You’re listening to Pearl Jam. So now not only are you incredibly tempting but you also have the music of his teenage years blasting. He can’t resist anymore, glancing out of the window to see you still laying on your stomach and your plush ass bouncing along as you wiggle to Eddie Vedder singing about still being alive.

He’s not sure how it happens, his body seems to move without him knowing, and suddenly he’s standing at the window, staring down into the backyard at you. His muscular arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the large window frame.

He slows his breathing and focuses on you - every dip and curve, every freckle, every little bit of skin being absorbed by his heated gaze. Your legs are slightly parted, but not enough for him to be able to see your cunt, and fuck does he want to see it.

His palms tingle with the need to cup your ass, maybe spank you for being naked in the middle of the day. He has neighbors, they could see you right now. This is unacceptable and you should be punished.

Just as he’s about to head downstairs his cell phone rings loudly and you shoot up onto your elbows and look over your shoulder at him, eyes locking with his before a tiny smile crosses your face. Joel looks away quickly and grabs his cell, almost crushing the device in his grasp as he answers.

X•X•X•X•X•X•X

Joel Miller was fully lurking at your naked body, and while that should probably embarrass you, you need to get fucked. You need something, anything, to forget about that piece of shit boyfriend who locked you out and refuses to talk to you or let you get your stuff. Sarah told you when you first met that he had her when he was 19, so it’s not like he’s THAT much older than you. Plus it’s just fucking.

Yep, I’m going for it.

You gather the towel around your body loosely, hooking your swimsuit on your finger and twirling it happily as you head into the house, determined to confront him and then seduce him. When you head up the stairs he’s standing in the doorframe of his office, just across from the spare bedroom you’re occupying. He looks deliciously pissed, one arm propped above his head on the door frame, the other on his hip, knee popped out. Your pussy flutters at the thought of his large, angry body above yours.

The opening bars of Jeremy fill the silence between you two, almost daring the other to make the first move.

“Turn that off,” Joel snaps. “I’m working.”

“Didn’t look like you were working a few minutes ago,” you say back, matching his energy.

Joel’s eyes narrow, brows furrowing, but you can tell he’s fighting to keep his eyes on yours. You lick your lips, testing him, teasing him, pushing him to see if he’ll take the bait. The flick of his eyes to your lips happens so quickly you almost miss it.

You let out a scoff, “Ya, that’s what I thought.” You step towards him, so close that you can smell the coffee and sawdust on him. “Wanna take a break from all that work?” You say the word work teasingly, trying to entice him.

“Go to your room and put some clothes on. Don’t let me catch you naked in the backyard again,” He says deeply, then closes his office door in your face.

You smirk to yourself, dropping the towel at his door and wandering into your room leaving the door wide open. You hook your phone to the Bluetooth speaker as you lay on your bed completely naked. You hit the volume button and slip your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit in fast, little circles.

“Daddy didn’t give no affection, no

And the boy was something that Mommy wouldn’t wear

King Jeremy the wicked

Oh, ruled his world”

Joel whips his office door open looking absolutely furious. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of you. Bare, wide open, and soaking wet. You don’t stop, don’t even bother to look his way, as you dip your fingers into your pussy and cry out his name. Joel steps into your room and hits the power button on your speaker. The only sounds that film the room are your moans and the squelching of your arousal as your fingers slip in and out of your pussy.

“What the fuck did I just say, little girl?” Joel says darkly.

You open your eyes to look at him and the expression on his face sends your heart into your stomach. You’ve always been a little bit of a brat, getting in trouble lots growing up. Truthfully, you like the rush of it, the adrenaline of the unknown. But Joel looks dangerous, eyes blown out with rage and lust, hands clamped into fists at his sides, a slight blush pinks his cheeks, lips in a tight line.

You sit up, crossing your legs and covering yourself with a pillow as you turn towards him. You’re suddenly not feeling so confident, you may have pushed the wrong man.

“Y-you said outside,” you start, your voice wavering. “I’m inside.”

Joel moves so quickly that you don’t even have time to register what’s happening as the pillow is ripped from your grip and disposed of on the floor in front of you. You’re bare and exposed to him again.

“Spread your legs,” he says hungrily, voice a raspy whisper.

He watches your throat as you swallow hard, leaning back on your elbows and planting your feet on the edge of the bed. You look at him tentatively, jumping and letting out a little squeal when he barks, “I said spread your fucking legs.”

You relax, letting your knees fall open. His breathing is rapid, a growling moan leaving his parted lips. He takes one step, his knees hitting the edge of the bed.

“Joel -” you start.

“Shut up. You knew what you were doing, you wanted this. Didn’t you?”

“Y-Yes, but…” his hand slaps the inside of your thigh and your knees slam together as you cry out.

“Spread. Your fucking. Legs,” he repeats in a slow and deep command.

“That hurt!” You say back, squeezing your knees together tighter. It feels like he set fire to your thigh and you can already see the red handprint forming.

“If you’re gonna act like a little brat, I’m going to treat you like one. Now spread your legs so I can hit the other one.” He raises an eyebrow at you cockily. “If you keep them open, I might reward you.” You’ve bit off more than you can chew with Joel Miller.

You take in a calming breath through your nose, relaxing your knees as you exhale slowly. Joel can see the milky, sticky strings of your arousal as your pussy lips spread open for him. He has to swallow the excess saliva that pools in his cheeks at the sight. He wants to taste you so fucking badly.

“I think you liked it,” he taunts. “You’re makin’ a mess, you like being slapped around, don’t you? Treated like a little whore.”

Before you can respond he lays a hard smack on your other thigh. Your hips involuntarily buck upwards, your head falling back and a moaning, whimpering cry you don’t recognize as your own leaves your lips. You focus on your knees, fighting against your body’s instincts, keeping them pushed into the mattress.

“That’s what I thought,” he says as he kneels in front of you and yanks your ass to the edge of the bed. “Think you should get a reward now?”

“Y-yes, please, Joel. Please!” You have never had to beg for sex before, boys your age are usually fired up and ready to go, but men of Joel’s age know sex is so much more than just penetration - it’s a game, a tease.

He bites down on your thigh, “Please. Please, Joel!”

“You smell so fucking good,” he says as his hooked nose trails down your little line of pubic hair. You squirm under him as your clit twitches, aching for his attention. “And so goddamn wet. My little whore, aren’t ya?” His warm breath hits your needy clit and you flop down onto the bed, whining in need.

“Please -” but your words are cut off by the front door opening and Sarah’s voice calls through the house.

“Everyone can celebrate, I’m home now!!!” She yells jokingly.

“Fuck!” Joel huffs under his breath and bolts for his office, kicks your towel and swimsuit into your room, you follow and click your door shut quietly.

“Hello?” Sarah calls, heading up the stairs.

“Just getting dressed,” you call through your closed door. “I think your dad is in a meeting.”

“Put on your swimsuit, it’s gorgeous outside!”

Taglist

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@iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81

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russellsppttemplates · 2 days

Text

A red thread tying you to me (Charles Leclerc)

There was something pulling you to him and Charles was ready to act on it

Note: english is not my first language. I loved the blurb and now we have a big piece too!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions the death of reader's father's and Charles' father's deaths

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"The congress is just outside of Milan, the exact city and details are in there", your colleague Lucia offered as she flickered though the pages, "I've been a couple of times before and it's really enriching, I just know you'll love the students and the department head - she was my supervisor for a couple of years".

"It sounds great", you looked at the panel information and then the travel details, "it's such a shame you can't come with me though, but I also wouldn't want to risk your little dude showing up and have me as your midwife", you chuckled as Lucia rubbed her baby bump.

"You're capable of many things, Y/N, but I would prefer if the fate of my baby and my underparts was in the hands of a professional!", she bumped your shoulder, "and the area is really nice too, I'm sure you'll find something to keep you busy during the weekend".

"I have plans, actually, I'll be fine I think", you smiled.

Like Lucia predicted, you had a great time in the conference and the guest lecture you gave was applauded and discussed for nearly an hour after you showed the last slide of the presentation, topics going back and forth until everyone had to absolutely leave the room before the next lecture began. For now, you'd get to enjoy the region, drinking some wine and taking in the views you recognised.

The park where your father used to take you didn't look too different. The slides didn't look rusty anymore, and the swing was a bright red colour as you sat on it once you didn't see any other kid around who might want to use them and let yourself feel the breeze on your face and hair as you kicked your legs in and out. Your father used to make you feel like you could touch the sky with how high he helped you go, "you're going to touch the clouds, mia piccola stella", he would say and you would laugh loudly.

You missed him every single day, but over the years, your grief allowed you remember all of the happy moments you lived with him, cherishing them close to your heart. Spending the whole weekend in Monza and attending the race was something you hadn't done without him since he passed away. The circuit was your father's favourite - "it's the fans, Y/N, there's a thrill in the air that no other circuit has - Tifosi cover the streets, they're all you can see around town and it's magical almost" he would say to you, so when you noticed the conference was in the area and coincided with the Grand Prix weekend, both you and your mother agreed you should take the opportunity.

On your way back to the hotel, you stopped by the track, wondering what the preparations for a race weekend looked like after so many years. You still followed the sport, but you never got the chance to catch this on television.

"Oh my, oh my", you heard someone say beside where you were standing, "I can't believe my eyes, it's Y/N Y/L/N".

Turning around you spotted Salvatore, one of the mechanics your father worked with. He also had kids around your age and you would often play together whenever you were both in the garage for the weekend.

"Salvatore!", you cheered, giving him a big smile after kissing each of his cheeks, "you better believe your eyes then".

"It's been so long since I've seen you last", he recalled, rubbing your back softly. You and your mother had gone to Maranello for a tribute ceremony the team had for your father - that had been the last time he saw you.

"It has been, yes - I'm sorry", you apoligised. You told the team you'd be around and so much had happened since and you only watched it through a screen instead of living it in the flesh.

"It's okay, it was the time you needed - What brought you to Monza this weekend?", he wondered as he walked inside the paddock with you, scanning his card and getting you both in.

"A work trip actually - I finished a conference yesterday and I also gave a lecture at the university", you nodded, "and my father always loved Monza", you smiled at the memory, "he knew how cliché that sounded, but he always said there wasn't a better weekend on the calendar. And I've missed the rush, too", you offered, letting the tears flow freely and accepting them even though you were in the middle of the paddock, loud noises coming from every angle as the teams prepared the finishing touches for the upcoming race.

"He's very proud of you, I'm sure", Salvatore comforted, "and everyone will be happy to see you here - the little girl with the high pigtails is a grown woman now who attends conferences and gives lectures, who would've known?", he joked as you stepped inside the garage.

"Is this little troublemaker Y/N Y/L/N?", one of the oldest mechanics said after he applied a sticker to the halo.

When your father took you to the races, everyone knew they had fun guaranteed with you, always pulling pranks and laughing loudly, "my troublemaker days are over, I'm a responsible woman now", you chuckled, giving a quick wave to everyone before greeting everyone individually.

"Do you have tickets for this weekend?", Fred asked. Even though he had just met you, it was clear to him how much you mattered to everyone who worked with your father, "we can get you a pass, I'm sure".

"I have grandstand tickets", you stated.

"Silvia!", the team principal called the woman, making her approach him and rub your arm kindly, "do we have any guest passes left?".

"Let me check", Silvia mumbled, "we have one left, actually! Charles didn't even notice he asked us to save a ticket for his mother twice - I'll get it for you, it's in the meeting room upstairs", she smiled.

"Charles will also be very happy to see you around, did you tell him you were coming?", Salvatore mentioned.

"I haven't actually - I've been really busy", you mumbled.

You met the monégasque driver when he was Scuderia Ferrari's development driver and Prema Racing driver in Formula Two, accidentally running into him in the dining area of the hospitality and ending up spending most of his free time there throughout the whole weekend.

Quickly, it became a tradition to do so whenever he was over and whenever he was done with his Formula Two duties and you happened to be at the same track.

When you stopped attending races because the memories were too painful, you lost contact, opting to react to eachother's Instagram stories every now and again and sending quick messages through the social media app.

"The boys arrive today, but they're only coming to the track tomorrow", Fred added, "you'll have plenty of time to catch up".

Charles had finally arrived to the hotel after all the flights and drives, thankful that there weren't many fans around already and he could get inside without a hitch, checking in and getting his room keys.

"Hold it, per favore!", he said to the person on the lift, dreaming of the changing from his travel outfit and the bed waiting for him. When his hand helped him inside the metal door, he couldn't believe his eyes, "Y/N?".

He could remember the last time he saw you. He had just started his first season as a Formula One driver for Alfa Romeo and you had come back to the paddock for the first race of the season like you promised you would. He sat with you whenever he had a little break, you caught up with him and his early days as a driver with a seat rather than just watching from the sidelines.

"Charles, hi!", you gasped, hugging him and feeling him squeeze your body against his.

"I- what are you doing here? Are you here for the race?", he wondered. This couldn't be a mere coincidence. He hoped it wasn't.

"I had a work trip here that coincided with this weekend, and I thought of it as a sign", you explained, "you're staying in this hotel too?".

"Yes, the team are at the one where we usually stay for the weekend, but until Thursday, I'm staying here, yes", he smiled, "Goodness, I feel like it's both been forever and like it was yesterday", he chuckled, "do you want to get a drink? I have a nice selection in my room whenever I stay", he offered.

"I'd love to, Charles", you said, hoping that the tingly feeling on your tummy mirrored Charles' own excitement at this unexpected but valued encounter, "are you sure though? You just arrived".

"No, don't worry about that! My room is... 705", he checked on the card he was handed, "so you can join me now or maybe you want to set those things down first and meet me there?", he pointed to the bag you were carrying.

"Yes, this is quite heavy actually", you blushed, "my room is on this floor, so I'll meet in your room in fifteen? I need to freshen up because I've been walking around town all day".

Leaving the elevator on your floor, Charles waved at your before the doors closed andyou headed to your door. Stepping inside, you left the totebag with the books you bought in the chair before heading to the bathroom, brushing out any tangles in your hair and splashing your face with water to freshen up.

After getting yourself ready to go, you went up to Charles' floor, knocking on the door and waiting for him.

"Come in, come in!", Charles offered after he opened the door, "I've unpacked but kept it very organised still", he chuckled as you walked inside the room. It looked the same as yours did, only a different colour pallette for the decoration.

"How have you been?", you wondered once you sat down and shared some sparkling water, neither of you really feeling like drinking anything alcoholic.

"You surely know more about me than I know about you", Charles smiled, "but it's been good, this season has been great so far, I feel like we're in a really good path and things are working well", he took a sip from his cup, "the team have done such an incredible job".

"And the driver on the car doesn't have anything to do with that?", you squinted at his ever so modest take on things.

"I suppose I do", he blushed.

"I may have not been here, but I've watched every race - minus some of the ones at daft o'clock, I only watched those when my sleep was all messed up", you joked, "you're an essential part of this team, Charles, everyone can see that so you should give yourself more credit", you touched his arm.

Even though it had been years since you last saw eachother, you hit it off immediately and it seemed like no time had passed.

"And you? What is this work trip that brought you here?", Charles nodded.

"You're not the only one who gets to travel for work, alright?", you tsked, "I had to do a presentation on a conference and then the department invited me for a lecture, nothing big".

"Who's being ever so modest now, hm? That is fantastic, mon ange!", he congratulated before he noticed the words coming out of his mouth.

"When I noticed it fell around this weekend, I told my mum and she said that I should try and dip my foot here - I've been wanting to come to race sooner but...", you trailed off.

"I get it - it's hard going to the places that remind you of them", Charles took his hand in yours and squeezed it, "he was so cherished by the team, I'm sure everyone will be very happy to see you".

"Actually, I walked to the track today so I could see it up close before the race - I hoped it wouldn't be such a big shock once I got there on Friday -, and I bumped into Salvatore", you smiled, "he let me go into the garage and I saw everyone, it was really nice", you looked up so the tears on your eyes wouldn't fall.

"I can get you a pass, let me just text Silvia!", Charles said as he got his phone from his pocket with his free hand.

"She already did", you chirped, "apparently you booked two for your mother, so they had a spare one".

"You see, a couple of years ago, my mum was too late to tell me she was coming to the race and I was out of the guest passes, so I always have one on hold for her and I sent the list with her name on it as well", he admitted, "but it seems to have turned out just fine - meant to be even".

You ended up requesting room service for the two of you for dinner, neither feeling like going out of the room after feeling so comfortable there. Conversation was steady, vulnerability was easy to show and the butterflies were happily dancing on your tummy.

"I better get to my room, then", you stated once Charles told you about what he needed to do tomorrow once he was at the track.

"I didn't mean it that way - I'm fine!", he said after doing his best attempt at containing a big yawn, "I'm fine!".

"You're tired, and frankly so am I", you admitted as you got up from the bed.

"Would you like to come with me to the track tomorrow? If you don't have other plans that is", he mumbled the last part.

"I don't - I was just going to work a little bit, but if you find me a spot in the hospitality, I'll happily take my stuff there", you smiled reassuringly as you put on your shoes and headed to the door.

"I can take you to your room", Charles got up from the bed and followed you.

"No need, my room is just downstairs", you reasoned, kissing his cheek in a silent thank you still.

"That's right - so we'll go tomorrow after breakfast?", he rested his body on the door once you opened it.

"Yes, that works for me! Good night, Charles", you smiled before walking up to the elevator.

Walking inside the hospitalitynwith Salvatore and the rest of the team, he was quick to show you where you could set up.

"Charles likes to spend as much time as possible with the fans and it's right about now that they start becoming more and more and they're everywhere, too", he explained as he helped you in the table on the lounge area, "there's food and coffee in there if you need anything", Salvatore smiled, "if you need anything, just ask someone".

"Thank you - this is perfect", you assured, sitting down and working on your laptop and reading some of the books you had bought.

Charles and Carlos finally arrived at the hospitality, greeting the team and talking to them for a while before they headed upstairs for a meeting.

"You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend and you were bringing her here", Carlos told Charles as he poured some coffee on a mug after the meeting.

"I don't - I haven't brought a girlfriend here", Charles quirked an eyebrow at his team-mate.

"So who is that young woman you just smiled at and are pouring coffee for after giving her the heart eyes?", it was the spanish driver's turn to raise his eyebrows.

"Oh, Y/N!", Charles smiled as he mentioned your name, "she's an old friend! Her father was a mechanic before he passed away a few years ago - the older team members have known her since she was little, everyone loves her", he mused.

"Everyone loves her - I can see that", Carlos chuckled as he followed Charles to the table.

"We don't want to interrupt or disturb you too much", Charles announced as he set the mug next to your laptop.

"It's fine, sit sit!", you encouraged as you closed the books you no longer needed to make room for them, "I'm Y/N", you told Carlos.

"I'm Carlos", he smiled back, "nice to meet you", he said before you dove into conversation, discussing anything that popped into your minds and getting to know eachother.

"Don't let her fool you into believing she has always been a responsible, put together girl because she used to steal and hide all of our tools!", Antonio, one of the engineers pointed at you after he got himself a bottle of water, "Charles knows her tricks already but you, Carlos, don't fall for that!".

"You loved it every time I was on the computers and drew on Paint! You even had one of my drawings as the background for almost an entire season!", you threw at him as he approached you, patting the top of your head protectively.

"I'd like to see that! I've only known her since she was way older", Charles pouted.

"Jealous much?", Carlos teased, his voice above a whisper as Charles seemed to get flustered.

"Is it really that obvious?", the monégasque driver mumbled once you got up to get something to eat, "I've had a crush on her since I was a development driver".

"Why have you never said anything? She seems like she really cares about you too", Carlos mused as he thought to a few moments before where you too gqve him heart eyes. He would have to be blind to not notice it, and even then the energy between you too would still be felt.

"The timing wasn't right, I guess - her father passed away almost right after as I became a driver for Alfa Romeo, and she hasn't been in the paddock since. We have texted every now and again over the years and now she happened to be here for the race too", Charles offered.

"I'd say you should take a shot - trust me, she likes you back", Carlos patted Charles' shoulder after getting up, watching you go back to the table with a big smile on your face.

After Charles took pole position in qualifying, the team stayed a bit longer for the debrief, going over a few points of the discussion and the changes they still needed to make before the race.

"Y/N! We're having dinner at one of our favourite restaurants in town and I'm counting you in, okay?", Charles said as he spotted you in the garage, followed by Andrea, who had been keeping you company along with his brothers, Charlotte and Pascale.

"Your family is here for you, Charles, I don't want to intrude", you said as you got up, unaware of the Leclerc matriarch behind you.

"Chérie, of course you won't be intruding - we'd love to have you there!", Pascale chirped in.

"Well, in that case...!", you smiled, "just tell me where I should go and at what time, or are we going straight there?", you wondered.

"I was thinking we could go straight there if that's okay with you - you can can come with me and Andrea can ride with my brothers", Charles suggested, "unless you need to go back to the hotel", he quickly scrambled.

"No, I'm fine! Unless this outfit is not restaurant appropriate", you muttered as you looked down. Against all odds, you managed to not get any food stains on your dress. It was a midi skirt cut, flowy to allow your body to feel cool considering the warm Italian day.

"It's fine - you're fine, you look beautiful!", Charles was quick to assure you.

"Good, that's good then", you smiled before excusing yourself to go and get your things.

"You have to tell her, Charles - your affection is no use to either of you if you keept it in here", Pascale tapped her son's chest.

"Y/N", Charles called you before he had to go and get ready for the race, "I have something for you - we do", he said as some of the mechanics, including Salvatore, followed him.

"Oh, what is it?", you smiled.

"We commented with some guys back at the factory that you were here with is this weekend and they found something we thought you'd like to have", Salvatore said as he handed you a bag.

Looking inside, you noticed an old Ferrari cap and some embroidered lettering on the side, recognising it immediately. When you were a teenager, you decided to try different hobbies and hand embroidery was the one that stuck the most, so much so that on one of the race weekends, you embroidered caps for everyone on the team that asked you.

"My wife remembered the one I have at home and then the guys at Maranello found your father's and apparently one you did for Charles' as well", Salvatore offered as you took them both out.

"Dad always said he had plenty of embroidered things at home and this one was the one he had to travel with him", you chuckled as tears welled up in your eyes, feeling Charles soothingly rub your back.

"I remember getting this and loving it - I thought I had lost it!", Charles said, unaware if how close he was pulling you together so he could get a peek at the old caps.

"There's some loose string here", you chuckled, wiping the tears and fiddling with the red thread, "I didn't know how to properly tie it at the start, I kept losing it - I think I even glued it down at some point. Thank you for bringing this out", you smiled.

"Would you mind if I wore this for the driver's parade?", Charles asked you.

"I was planning on wearing my dad's while I watched the race", you offered, testing the fabric and placing it on your head before doing the same with Charles, fixing it on his head and looking up at him.

You never got over how handsome he was. The little scar on his cheek, his mole, the smile that never failed to make you smile, his beautiful green eyes. His kindness, his gentleness, his talent - there wasn't a way to deny how much you liked it. How much you liked him.

"We will be matching then!", Charles squeezed you against him before going to his driver's room.

Only when Charles was headed to take P1 on the grid did he hand the cap back to Salvatore and put on his helmet, giving you a wink before he left.

"How are you feeling?", Pascale asked as she sat next to you to watch the race. Over the last couple of days, she had grown close to you, not only because you had captured her son's heart and she wanted to get to know you, but also because Charles had told her how emotionally charged it was for you to be at the track, in Monza nonetheless.

"It's a lot", you admitted, "everyone has been so kind and warm, so all of the heavy feelings have been slowly infiltrating the good ones and it's been easier to deal with them like that", you blinked away a few tears.

"I get it", Pascale nodded, "losing someone is not easy, and I can't imagine what it feels like for you - the boys and I talk about my late husband every now and again and it gets easier to talk about it, I think that's what it is anyway".

"Yes, definitely like that. My mum and I have reached the point where we don't cry at every mention - despite what you might have noticed this weekend", you chuckled.

"It's emotional, chérie - I, for one, always cry whenever the boys achieve their goals. Hervé isn't here to see them, but I know he knows, and the boys know how proud he is of them", Pascale smiled, keeping some tears at bay too.

"You raised amazing young men, don't doubt that", you let out. At this point, you were sure she had noticed or had at least an inkling. As any mechanic for the red team who knew you since you were a kid would say, you were never a good liar - anytime you said you didn't touch something, they knew to look in your backpack first.

"Thank you, dear", she added, "you know, Charles is quite careful in who he lets in, but he's never been good at hiding how much he cares about someone and I can tell he cares a great deal about you".

"I care a lot about him too", you smiled before you were handed a pair of headphones each with the race about to start.

When Charles successfully kept the cars behind him away with a good gap, you clapped and watched the remaining laps number get smaller and smaller until there was only the current lap left.

Charlotte held your hand together with hers as you watched Charles be the first driver to see the checkered flag and when Xavi yelled "And P1!" into the radio, you did your happy dance, not having a care in the world about what others thought as you watched the Tifosi erupt in cheer.

"He did it! He did it!", Pascale clapped for her son, Arthur hugging her while Lorenzo did the same with his girlfriend while you softly touched your father's embroidered name on your cap with your fingers.

Running up to Parc Fermé, you stood in the sea of red, waiting for him to come back and hug them.

"You did so well, congratulations!", you said as you pulled Charles for a hug.

"Had my good luck charm with me!", he smiled back, kissing your cheek as he took advantage of you being shielded by the mechanics and engineers.

The team celebratory dinner was going really well, everyone happy with how the weekend panned out with both drivers on the podium and enjoying the meal on the restaurant's outside patio.

"If you guys want dessert, they're going to set them out on that table and you can grab as much as you like", Fred spread the message as you could see all kinds of sweet foods being brought out, a pudding catching your eye along with some raspberries.

You and Charles got the dessert plates and served yourselves, noticing the staff was already clearing up the tables, meaning you'd have to move to the bar area, many people opting to skip dessert and get some drinks instead.

"You can see the stars so clearly tonight", you mused as you looked up at the sky, setting your plate on the high table.

"My father always said that the stars did shine brighter here, and tonight the sky is very clear", Charles hummed in agreement, looking at your face. The moonlight and the dim lighting for the lamps and fairy lights illuminated all your features perfectly - your smile as you looked up formed the dimples on your cheeks, your eyes that were a tiny bit squinty and the way your whole body seemed relaxed.

The goosebumps on your arms caught his eye though, "here, have this", Charles said as he offered you the cardigan he had carried around all night since according to him his mother made him do it because it would be cold.

"Thanks", you smiled as you pulled the sleeves and folded them around your wrist so they would fit better, "this is really comfy, I might steal this if you don't ask for it back", you joked.

"I don't mind if you keep it, you have had my heart all these years", Charles stated. There it was.

"What?", you faced him, heart beating fast inside your chest.

"It's true, I've had a crush on you since I first met you, and these past couple of days have been amazing, and I can't believe it took me all these years to realize how I truly feel about you Y/N", he told you, no stutter or sign of regret on his face.

"I haven't been around, really, it's my fault", you fiddled with your thumbs before looking at him again, "but I can't lose you again".

"You never lost me, amour", he smiled as his eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips, his hand cupping your cheek your mouth pressed on his, ignoring everything and everyone around you.

Interrupting the kiss for air, Charles giggled as you hid your face in his neck once you heard the cheers and whistles, your lashes tickling him as his arms circled your waist and pulled you closer to him.

"He wins inside the track and outside of it, Charles Leclerc, P1 to Y/N's heart!", Carlos shouted before whistling again.

"Just so you know, I want an invite to your wedding!", Salvatore pointed his finger at you, "I still remember when you invited me for your wedding with Vettel!".

"You and Seb?", Charles chuckled once you pulled away from his neck.

"Sebastian was my favourite when I was little", you giggled, hiding your face on Charles' chest this time, "when he was back in RedBull still, I asked my father to ask him if he could take a photo with me and I cherished that for so many years - it was my most prized possession!".

"I can't promise you Seb, but I can promise you the very best of me", Charles said as he kissed the top of your head.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fluff #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

255 notes · View notes

nu-suave · 1 day

Text

JJK MEN VYING FOR YOUR ATTENTION one, two

feat. nanami, satoru, toji word count: 780

summary: once you’ve noticed it, you don’t know how you never picked up on it; he vies for your attention.

With Nanami, it’s as if all his priorities rearrange the moment you step foot in the room. Whatever he’s doing he’ll set down, turning to face you. No matter what, he dedicates his entire attention to you whenever you call for it; it’s hard not to feel heard or appreciated when he’s so overt about how much he cares for what you have to say.

Don’t even get me started about the dates, either. ‘Dates’ is really the only way to describe it, even if you two are only friends - he’ll ask you out for food, taking you to try out cafe’s he’s seen or inviting you to a movie he thought you’d enjoy (even if he considers the cinema overpriced) or accompanying you to the museum whenever there’s a new exhibit he thinks you’d like.

He’s not the most obvious with his affections, but the second you pick up on it it’s hard to miss. He’ll send you good morning texts, check to make sure you’re eating properly, and if he doesn’t hear from you every few days he’ll always check in to make sure you’re okay. He definitely enjoys acts of service, and his actions reflect that - he’ll pick up groceries for you if he’s passing by, always offers to cook dinner, and god forbid you ever insist he doesn’t have to do these things for you. It’s not about having to do something for you, it’s about wanting to do this for you; wanting to help ease the little chores in life, wanting to be there for you in the way you are for him.

He’s more personal in the way he wants your attention—he doesn’t care about taking it away from others, just that the time he spends with you isn’t distracted by other things. He allocates a lot of his free time to make sure he can see you, gives you all his attention whenever you do talk, and he’s privately thrilled every time you do the same.

Satoru couldn’t be more obvious. It’s a wonder you didn’t pick up on it sooner. He commands your attention the second he sees you; drapes himself over you, encroaches on your space, sits beside you so close your shoulders brush every time you move. He’ll lean his head on your shoulder or, if he’s tall enough, the top of your head as you talk to other people. A greedy part of him wants to monopolise your attention, to be a constant presence by your side.

And he talks. If you’re with someone else, he’ll butt in with his own remarks. If you’re not, he’ll keep you engaged in conversation, making you privy to his constant stream of thoughts. He knows how to be quiet and bask in companionable silence, but when he wants your attention nothing is stopping him from doing everything he can to have it.

If that doesn’t work, he upgrades to teasing you; he snags your attention with teasing comments, meant to fluster or annoy you - whichever will have you turning to him the fastest. He doesn’t care, as long as your eyes are on him.

Toji reverts to a middle-school boy by doing what he does best: showing off. It’s awful. He’s got a good physique and he knows he’s attractive, so when he finds himself wanting your attention he very quickly puts it to use. He stretches, rolls his shoulders, draws attention to his figure. He grins when your eyes linger on the broad width of his shoulders, the visible strength of his arms, the muscle lining his back. He likes knowing you find him attractive.

When that doesn’t work, he turns to lazy comments. He asks things of you - get me this? or he does things for you, casually grabbing the things you’re holding so you have your hands free. He makes idle comments intended to snag your attention or, if you’re particularly easy to rile up and prone to playful arguments, he’ll make callous, teasing remarks intended to set you off or fluster you.

He doesn’t buy you things, but he’s good at lazing around and taking advantage of events as they come by. Good thing if you’re budgeting, because he’s amazing at finding stuff to do for the lowest cost. The best part is there’s a lower chance of anyone running into the two of you - all the better for him.

And sometimes, when he’s in a particularly attention-seeking mood, he crowds into you. He’s bigger than you, taller than you, and he’ll lean down into your space until he’s the only thing you can look at, a smug grin crawling across his features. It works every time.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojou x reader #satoru gojo x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #gojo satoru x you #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x you

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noiryinn · 1 day

Text

game over!

pairing(s): nagi seishiro x male reader

summary: when a game of fortnite leads to sex

warnings: amab!reader, top!reader, bottom!nagi, anal sex, crying, begging, riding, belly bulge, edging, overstimulation, reader is kinda mean, slut shaming, (minors + fem aligned dni, all characters aged up)

word count: 1.1k

a/n: first smut, enjoy! (kinda rushed and bad)

you were watching your boyfriend play his video games, as always. it annoyed you a bit, but you saw how happy he was playing them so you never said anything.

“hey, nagi?” you called out to him while laying on his bed. “yeah?” he replied, not even glancing away from his monitor. you really didn’t know what to say, you just called his name to he would pay some attention to you. your sex life has been kinda dry, so you just said the first thing that came to mind.

“if you win that game i’ll give you a blowjob,” you blurted out before quickly regretting it. you couldn’t take it back though, since he turned his head to look at you, “yeah?” nagi seemed to be challenging you. “and if i lose?” he asked. well, you didn’t think this far ahead so you just blurted something out again, “you have to ride me.”

honestly, it didn’t seem like a fair deal, but he took it anyway. “fine, deal.” you blinked in surprise, you never expected him to actually take it, knowing how much he hates doing the work himself. nagi was a pillow princess, there was no doubt. every time he laid there and looked pretty. a part of you really want this, maybe as pay back for the numerous amount of times he always payed attention to games and not you.

…

spoiler alert, he didn’t win the game.

…

“f-fuck! [name]!” the white haired boy whined in a pathetically high pitched voice. his eyes glossed over in pleasure as tears pricked the corner of his eyes. “please— ah…no- no more…” he begged. his moves were sloppy and uncoordinated, drool dribbled down his chin. his face was puffy and it was clear as day that he was wildly embarrassed.

“oh, seishiro…you’re getting sloppy, don’t tell me this is your limit? poor baby, is it nap time already?” you mocked him lightly. you couldn’t help laugh how he became such a overstimulated mess in just a few minutes. a small frown played on his face, “i’m not— agh…done yet!” nagi managed to slip out. “good. then prove it.” you condescendingly smirked at him, now it was your turn to sit and enjoy the show.

you fully took in the sight of your boyfriend. his ears and face flushed a mad red. he looked like he was nearing his limit, but didn’t want to admit it yet. the room echoed with the sounds of skin slapping and moans. you loved the sound of squelching when he sank onto your dick. there was even a outline of where it was on his stomach.

with a huff, he messily picked up his pace, drooling all over himself as he made pitiful attempts to keep up the pace. “is that all you can do?” you sneered, “shut up! i can— ngh…do more!” he made a weak jab to insult you back, but really he could barely think at all.

nagi was so perfect. the way he handled your dick, moaned, his facial expressions, you loved it. his pride made him refuse to admit that he was at his breaking point. you wanted to toy with him a bit, so you put your hands on either side of his hips and pushed him down onto your dick. his toes curled and his back arched in the most erotic way possible as he let out a lewd moan.

nagi’s head threw back and he tried to cover his mouth to stifle his moan when your dick hit his prostate in just the right area. you could feel his cute little hole clench around you. he was swearing up a storm under his breath, breathless ‘fucks’ and ‘shit’ rolled out his mouth as he kept babbling.

“i wanna…come ughh— please” he whined and begged as warm tears of pleasure rolling down his cheeks. “awh, already? but i was just starting to have some fun…” you pouted, “but hold it in, will ya?” you asked him. “i can’t, mnghh…[name] you’re being mean!” he said weakly. “you can’t what? use your words…” you looked at him in his eyes.

he stared at you back with that same frown on his face, it looked like he was choking back words. you waited for him to speak, wondering what he had to say. “i can’t…ride you anymore— ah!” you slammed him down on your dick again, “you’re too big…nghh…” nagi kept rambling on, “you’re— so mean…just fuck me already…please…?” he gave you a pleading look and you sighed. “looks like poor baby can’t ride me anymore. don’t worry, i’ll take it from here” you teased him one last time before switching the position you two were in.

nagi laid on the bed, his face having a fucked out expression, both of his legs wrapped around your waist. you barely gave him a moment to recollect his thoughts when you sharply thrusted into him, knocking the wind out of nagi’s lungs. you pounded deeply into his hole. the sound of his moans sounding almost pornographic.

nagi could barely think, let alone form words. all he could do was just lay there and moan. “you are such a whore for dick, seishiro.” you smirked, he made a desperate attempt to shake his head no, but he was too fucked out to actually do anything. “what a little slut, bet you lost that game on purpose huh?” you whispered in his ear. his only response was a little whimper.

you were surprised when nagi tightened his legs around you, rutting against you for any sort of friction, for you to go deeper. you smiled at this and leaned in to kiss him deeply. he lazily wrapped his arms around your neck. when you two let go to breathe, he whispered something softly in your ear, “mm…[name] i love you…so please, don’t go easy on me, okay…?” in that moment, what kept you from holding back (barely anything), just shattered in that moment.

…

“[name]~ my back hurts” nagi grumbled. you chuckled softly at that, “you were the one who wanted me to go hard, seishiro. don’t make a fuss.” he just responded with a petulant look. you two were on the bed looking at each other, sweaty and breathless. even when nagi was a mess he was beautiful. “you were being mean too…” he complained. “sorry, i couldn’t help it when you were being such a brat…” you remarked.

“ugh…that was such a hassle…i don’t know why we did it…” nagi mumbled while sinking into the bed. “you agreed to the bet!” you groaned, rolling your eyes at his complaint. for an athlete, he was sure unmotivated. “can you wash me? i feel gross…” he asked with puppy-dog eyes. it wasn’t unusual for him to ask you to do things like that. “okay, okay. i’ll carry you.” you sighed, unable to resist his adorable look. though it was a bit of work, you didn't mind doing it for nagi.

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