#Imagine THIS being the first time they see him again!!

[amaranthineghost]

FLOWERS FOR THE 'TOTALLY-A-COUPLE' FRIENDS

oscar piastri x reader

when two friends visit the market and, upon seeing free flowers being given out to couples, they decide to pretend to date for the sake of free flowers. when they end up liking the idea of pretending to be together, they end up wondering why they need to pretend to begin with.

credit to @foreveralbon for the idea!!!! <333

authors note: this was so fun to make!!! i really wanted to make something for oscar and totally stole this idea from liyah (THANK YOU AGAIN!!!) so I finally have an imagine for oscar yay!!!

SOMETIMES IT’S NORMAL FOR FRIENDS TO PRETEND. pretend they’re fighting, pretend while playing games, pretend they’re racing against traffic, pretend they don’t really like each other more than friends.

they pretend they’re dating for the sake of free flowers from a random guy in a market that they visited as friends because they are friends. they are friends. it’s totally normal, totally completely normal for friends to do such things.

it was as simple as that.

at least it was before it all happened because now they didn’t know if they were just pretending anymore or if they had dropped the act hours ago. was it all really that simple now?

it was a clear day in oscar’s hometown and what better way to spend such a beautiful day off than in the company of his good, even best, friend at a market down the street from where he grew up. considering she hadn’t grown up in the area he had, he wanted to show her around all the classic spots that he used to frequent with his mum as a little kid.

well, now he felt like his mum when she used to drag him to all the corner stores or street markets in the blazing sun and smudge sunscreen on his face, except now it’s with her. his best friend, and only his friend and nothing more because his mother was convinced he was smitten. he always denied it.

but everyone could see the way he looked at her whenever he smiled, how she would be the first person he looked to when he laughed at a joke someone else made.

everyone knew except for them, it was painfully obvious that they both felt more for each other than they allowed, and they were painfully oblivious.

the walk on grass, through the bustling market, was relaxing with hands to their sides and their shoulders constantly touching. every so often, they'd look away with red faces and awkward smiles as their hands just barely grazed each other’s skin, but they never closed that gap. it had been happening for months and their friends were clawing at their eyes just waiting for it to happen.

but they weren't here to push them together, just the two friends walking past different stalls of clothes, antiques, accessories, and other various items.

a light breeze blew her hair into her face, causing the constant sputtering of lips as strands stuck to her lip gloss.

of course, in true friend fashion, he laughed every time at her struggles with taming her hair, telling her without fail, “you should really put your hair up, it'll only keep getting in your face.”

she scoffed at him as he pulled strands from her face and futilely attempted to tuck them behind her ears as they blew back into her face.

“i don't think i even have a hair tie,” she whined as she pulled her hair back but couldn't tie it up.

“oh, wait, i do,” he remembered the band on his wrist, years of being friends meant carrying hair ties around for the girl because she wouldn't.

she gasped softly, taking it from his hand that held it flat on his palm, muttering “oh my god, osc, i love you so much, thank you,” she rambled under her breath, “not going to question why you even have it.”

a smile graced his face, completely tuning out her last words at the nickname she had called him. it made his heart flutter every time.

the words ‘i love you’ had been said constantly throughout their friendship that it was second nature at this point. to them, it was just a simple sentence they threw around, though the saying became more and more frequent in the past few months.

maybe it was their way of getting to say their feelings in a disguised, double-meaning phrase that wouldn't confuse what they were.

oh, but it did.

at this point, the words ‘i like you’ held deeper values because it told them how they really felt, but they would never say it. they could've rehearsed it in their heads for days, weeks, or months on end just at the end of the day to say the thing that felt safest. i love you.

he simply muttered back in admiration, “you're welcome.” a smile played on his lips for the longest time, the more he looked at her, the warmer and fuzzier he felt his heart become.

maybe his mum was right.

he shook his head internally. no, she couldn't be. but as he looked at the girl, in such deep admiration like she was the only thing to have ever existed in his life before, he wasn't so sure.

he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as they continued on walking. the breeze had calmed, and her hair was safely tied up and out of her face. back to grazing hands ever so slightly and arms rubbing against each other caused goosebumps to line their skin.

it was cold, they said to play it off as they looked in opposite directions. the more time passed, the more they hung out, the more excuses they made, and the more awkward it became.

the awkward silence between the pair, birds chirping and other monotonous conversations were the only thing heard until a deep voice called from somewhere up ahead of the crowd.

she stood on the tips of her toes to see over the heads of other people while he made no effort to because he already could.

“guy’s handing out free flowers,” oscar started before pausing and looking at her, “for couples.” he scratched his neck again.

she exhaled sharply, “we could totally pull off being a couple,” she slowed down to the side and stood in front of him. he looked down at her with raised eyebrows and a racing heart.

“you think?” he tilted his head with thought, pursing his lips, “free flowers are free flowers.”

“exactly,” she said in a intellectual tone, holding her hand out for him to grab, “what do you say?”

he thought for a moment. at least he acted like he did because he would've grabbed her hand in a heartbeat, but he couldn't make it obvious.

“alright,” he agreed, hesitantly interlacing their fingers together, “but if you’re uncomfortable at any time, we can stop.”

she rolled her eyes, turning back walking into the crowd, now with his hand interlocked with hers at their sides, “yeah, yeah.”

but he pulled her back before she could slip into the crowd, bumping back against his arm, “promise me, you'd say something.”

she paused, and sighed, “i promise, okay, let's go,” she pulled him along, feeling his slight resistance while dragging him because he thought I'd be fun to see her struggle.

when she gave him a look when she turned her head, only then did he follow alongside her.

the guy handing out the free flowers wasn't too far from them, considering how loud he was when they first heard him.

when they first approached him, they could tell he was skeptical. for some odd reason, they didn't fit the image of a couple. it didn't mean they didn't suit each other, they did by all means look amazing side by side, but he knew. somehow he knew.

maybe it was the way they looked so naïve, how they stood with space still between them, or the nervous energy they put out. either way, he didn't believe them.

“kiss then,” the guy shrugged, causing the ‘couple’ to look at each other confused. she pursed her lips before opening her mouth to say something when he spoke first, “if you're really a couple, just kiss. not that big of a deal.” 

it wasn't like they were uncomfortable with what he was asking. oscar was just unsure how she felt about it, meanwhile she didn't care. deep inside, she was nervous because they're just friends, they've never held hands—until now—let alone kiss.

though once she noticed oscar's hesitancy to make a move, she knew she would have to be the one to do so. she didn't give him time to react, hand around the back on his neck to pull him down to her level and his chapped lips met her glossy ones. his hand ravelled its way into her tied hair, messing up the perfectness she had.

she tasted sweet, the gloss on her lips transferring to his before she pulled away less than a second later. his lips were pinker with the blood rushing to his face.

the guy was smug and satisfied, handing them the bouquet they just kissed—as friends—for.

by the time they had walked away, still no words had been exchanged between the pair. their faces still flushed red and their lips left pink and glossy. every glance in the others direction led to them looking the opposite way. they hadn't processed the fact their arms were interlinked now as Oscar held the flowers in his other hand.

he cleared his throat, prompting her looking at him as he held them out to her, “here.”

her lips parted as she stuttered over what words to say, “are you sure?”

he furrowed his brows, “yeah, why wouldn't i be?”

she nodded, “right, yeah.” she took them from his grasp. she looked at then how oscar looked at her, but maybe it was because oscar had given them to her.

she felt fuzzy, she felt a smile creep into her face as she smelled the flowers. her heart was pounding in her chest. she liked the idea of this fake dating thing, but she didnt imagine the length it would go to in such a short amount of time after she proposed the idea.

maybe she only liked the idea of pretending to be together because it was the closest thing she had to actually being with him.

they remained in silence for the whole walk back to his car, she still clutched the flowers with almost both hands. his hand still laced with hers as she held the bouquet against her body. they only separated as they went to their respective sides of the car, carefully getting in before buckling their seat belts.

the drive was silent, even the volume for the radio hadn't been turned up, only the air conditioning could be heard. it was like that for a while as he drove her back to his house because they'd made the plan to hang out afterwards. he thought it would be rude to change routes and drop her back at her house.

when they arrived, they sat in the car, unmoving in silence.

“do you want to talk about it?” his voice was uneven, and he wasn't looking at her when he spoke, not until the silence consumed them again did he turn his head.

“i mean—there's nothing to talk about really,” she shrugged, unsure of what to say as she bit on her lip, “we were just—pretending, right?”

she turned in her seat to look at him, and he nodded, “right, so just friends.”

“right,” she repeated in confirmation, nodding along as they both looked ahead again.

she hesitated. she realized things had already changed between them, their dynamic had shifted and it wasn't going to be the same. it wasn't going back so if she was going to do any more potential damage, she knew now would be the time.

“but—i guess i didn't mind it,” she muttered under her breath, causing him to gaze across at her, “the fake dating, I mean.”

“really?” he questioned, hand gripping the wheel despite the fact they were stationary.

“i mean, it was fun while it lasted,” she finally met eyes with him, fidgeting with her hands as she pursed her lips, “i enjoyed it.”

“the fake dating?”

“the kiss.”

he only nodded, thinking deeply in his head, but on her end, she thought she majorly fucked up whatever they could've salvaged from before. now they couldn't.

truthfully, he just had no words. the kiss had given him a different perspective because now he was longing to kiss her again, to feel and taste the lip gloss on his lips that came from hers.

it was like every feeling he had ever felt for her was pushed to the very forward part of his brain and refused to be put away again.

“i enjoyed it too.” he muttered so quietly, she nearly didn't hear him.

but when she had finally registered the words, a smile cracked her serious face and she looked at oscar, “really?” her voice was high and so unsure.

he only nodded in confirmation as she melted back into the car seat, smiling giddily as if she hadn't been waiting for this.

“hey,” he spoke softly, still gazing at her with eyes of admiration she only saw now, “i guess—it doesn't have to be pretend.” he shrugged.

“are you saying what i think you're saying, piastri?” she leaned back and watched him roll his eyes, only pulled in by oscar's hand on the back of her neck to make her meet him in the middle above the center console. he felt her lips smile against his which caused him to as well. it was infectious.

he cradled her face in his hand, this second kiss lasted much longer than the first, and it marked the end of their long-lived friendship and short-lived pretend dating, but marked the hopefully long-term relationship that had now sparked between the two.

—

taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs @poppyflower-22 @thearchieves @beskardroids @lorenica @hiireadstuff @delululeclerc

proofread by @foreveralbon <333

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[ellecdc]

hello love! I just, like, devoured all your writings today and idk if your requests are open, but I really like seer!reader and I was wondering if I could request one with poly!marauders where reader is a slytherin and she has a vision of befriending them or being in a relationship with them?

I’d imagined she thinks it’s a silly vision at first but the more she sees the boys (as she’s friends with Regulus so is bound to run into them with him), the visions occur more and more until she finally has an official interaction with them and officially meets them.

Idk if that’s too complicated/confusing, if so, you don’t have to write it obviously 😅.

I love Seer reader!!! thanks for your request lovie <3

please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.

poly!marauders x Seer Slytherin fem!reader who Sees a relationship with them

“Tell me again why I have to sit at the Gryffindor table for lunch?” You protested as Regulus all but dragged you to the Great Hall and Barty skipped merrily-on ahead. 

“Because I have to sit at the Gryffindor table for lunch.” He answered gruffly, strengthening his hold on your arm as you faltered in your steps.

“I don’t know, babes; have you ever considered just killing him? You wouldn’t have to reconnect with your estranged brother if he was dead.” Barty offered nonchalantly. 

“For the last time, Barty, I am not killing my brother.”

“A decision we’re all suffering for, apparently.” You muttered petulantly as you entered the Great Hall; chatter and the sounds of cutlery and tableware permeating your senses.

“Don’t worry, Treasure. The faster we eat the faster we can get away.” Barty offered in consolation.

“I am not doing the heimlich on you again, Barty.” You groaned as you followed Regulus towards the wrong side of the Great Hall.

“Come on, they’re not that bad.” Regulus tried.

You and Barty both stopped to give him unimpressed glares.

“Lupin’s not that bad.” He corrected.

“Yeah, and then he ruins that by the company he keeps.” You grumble as you plopped yourself down unceremoniously at the Red and Gold table across from your three lunch dates for the day.

Listen, you were all for being a good friend, a supportive friend; you would die for Regulus Black.

You’re not sure that support extended to willingly eating lunch with Gryffindor’s. 

But Regulus was determined to mend his relationship with his brother before Sirius graduated, Barty went just about anywhere Regulus went, and apparently you were single-handedly responsible for Regulus’ general sanity when it came to his brother and Barty.

“Hello Reggie!” Sirius called quickly.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What am I supposed to call you?” His brother bit back slightly less brightly. 

“I call him sugar tits but I don’t think that’s universal.” Barty offered as he started loading up his plate.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Junior.” James offered cautiously.

“I bet it is, Potter.”

Sirius sighed as if he’d been dealing with the likes of toddlers all morning and not 37 seconds of Barty Crouch Junior. “The polite thing to say would be ‘it’s nice to see you too, James’.”

Barty froze with his fork half way to his mouth as he furrowed his brows at Sirius. “No it wouldn’t; it’s not polite to lie, Black.”

“I brought another friend you can try to converse with.” Regulus spat hastily.

“Pretend I’m not here; that’s what I’m doing.” You sighed as you resigned yourself to your fate.

“Well, this is off to a good start.” Remus said with a smirk as he flipped a page in his book. 

You did suppose Lupin was the least…abrasive of him and his boyfriends. You’d had a chance to get to know him last year during prefect rounds; and while you didn’t appreciate how much he let his fellow Marauders get away with, he was relatively nice. In fact, if he had been in any house other than Gryffindor, you may have given him a chance. 

His boyfriend’s, though?

You’d rather take your chances with the Giant Squid than spend your lunch hour with them.

Were they attractive? Sure. You may be contemptuous, but you weren’t blind. 

But they always seemed to be on; there was never a moment of silence with those two nearby, and you often found yourself bracing for impact whenever they were around.

“Looking as smashing as ever, L/N.” James said as he shot you a wink.

Case in point. 

“If I threw a stick, you’d leave right?” You sneered and turned towards your sandwich.

“Nice!” Barty cheered at the same time as Remus muttered “easy kitten; play nice.” 

You started to feel the familiar sensation of your consciousness being pulled elsewhere. It felt as though you were being submerged under cold water, and the neurons firing in your brain were being gently lifted and ushered towards a new reality. 

“What’s wrong dollface?” Sirius asked you earnestly.

You sucked in a shaky breath as you tried to hide the trembling in your hands. “I just don’t feel very good.” You whispered, not trusting your voice to get through a sentence without sobbing.

“Oh, my poor girl. Come here sweets.” He repositioned himself from laying on his stomach to sitting cross legged and opening his arms in invitation.

You quickly accepted his offer and curled up in his lap as he wrapped protective arms around you and began to rock you back and forth.

“You’re okay, dolly. You’re just fine.” He murmured with his lips pressed to your hair line. “D’ya wanna stay here with me and the boys tonight?”

You let out a pathetically embarrassing keening sound as you nodded quickly.

“Okay baby; consider it done.” 

You sucked in a horrified breath as your consciousness returned and you were once again assaulted by the noises of the Great Hall.

Regulus quickly caught the glass of pumpkin juice you’d just nearly toppled and was holding your wrist tightly in his hand.

You thanked the deities for his seeker reflexes and that he seemed to already know what had happened; this was a relatively routine practice between the two of you this far along in your friendship.

“You’re okay.” He offered without even sparing you a glance as he took a napkin with his free hand to clean up what little you’d spilled.

He kept your wrist in his grip; tracking your pulse as he waited for your heart rate to slow down. 

“Was it a good one!?” Barty asked excitedly, alerting you to the fact that it wasn’t just you and Regulus sitting here.

You looked up horrified to see Remus, James, and Sirius all looking at you with various levels of concerns. 

“Was what a good one?” Sirius asked bemusedly. 

Barty scoffed derisively. “She’s a Seer, Black. Fuck, you’re thick.”

“Barty.” Regulus scolded as he turned to offer you his full attention. 

“Are you really?” James asked at the same time as Regulus asked “what did you See?” 

“I have to go.” You muttered breathlessly as you grabbed your things and headed towards the exit.

“No fair! Why does she get to leave and I don’t!?” You heard Barty whine as you pushed through the doors to the courtyard. 

You were going insane, surely. This was just a bout of madness. You needed psychological help, like one of those muggle mind healers. You could not seriously be having Sights of you dating the Marauders.

“Hey L/N!” 

“Fucking hells!” You shrieked as you spun to see Remus and James approaching you, the latter having been the one to call your name.

James still had his ever present smile on his face whilst Remus approached you with slightly more caution.

“Not happy to see us?” Remus asked with a soft smirk across his face.

“I…well,”

Apparently your bumbling was particularly telling to your current mental state, if their furrowed brows and nervous glances to each other were anything to go by.

“No funny quip for us today? You’re not going to tell me that I look like something you could draw with your left hand?” James taunted.

“Go fuck yourself, Potter.” You said with half the amount of derision you’d intended.

“Why? You wanna watch him?” Remus asked.

Okay, everything you ever said about Remus being not as bad as his boyfriends?

Lies.

“For Salazar’s sake, L/N; you sure know how to pick ‘em, huh?” Avery sneered from behind you.

“Speak when you’re spoken to, fuck face.” You barked back.

Avery only scoffed in response. 

“Hanging out with Baby Black and his crazy pet that follows him around wasn’t enough; you had to sully yourself with the likes of Gryffindor’s?” Mulciber continued for him. 

“You know, I’d be mad too if I looked like someone who has fallen for every MLM scam known to mankind.” James spat; his face taking on a severity you’d never seen from the notoriously sunny-dispositioned boy.

You wondered what else you hadn’t seen from him.

You made a rather hasty and embarrassing retreat after that gave you some…inappropriate thoughts.

You’d been plagued with more Sights since then, having been avoiding them after more images of them fussing and fawning over you (and - perhaps more horrifyingly - you over them), and then out-and-out hiding from them after a particularly… steamy Sight you had.

“You cannot hide in the Slytherin common room forever, Treasure.” Barty sighed as he plopped down beside you on the couch and rested his head on your shoulder.

“Why not?”

“Because Regulus gave them the password to the common room.”

“He what!?” You shrieked as the door opened and in spilled three Gryffindors and one Slytherin. 

“There you are, angel!” James cheered as he quickly made his way towards you.

Already with the pet names!?

“Did you really think you could hide from us, dollface?” Sirius winked as he and James took the settee across from you (causing a few younger year Slytherin’s to quickly vacate the area).

“Regulus, how could you?” You seethed at your now ex-friend. 

“I’m tired of Barty bailing on me to hide out here with you. Also, I’m not a house elf and will no longer be bringing you your meals.”

You pouted at him before a surprised yelp left your lips as you were lifted up from your seat.

Remus took your place on the sofa and placed you in the space between his thighs.

“Lupin! What are you doing!?”

“Making your dreams come true, gorgeous.” Sirius answered for you.

“They’re not dreams, you absolute mumpsimus. They’re visions of the future.” Barty sneered.

“Even better then.” James continued as he now pulled a scowling Sirius into his side. “We’re starting our future together.”

“You told them!?” You asked Regulus disbelievingly.

“Well you weren’t going to.” 

“That was the point!”

“Easy there, dove.” Remus whispered into your ear, causing a shiver to rack through you as your body traitorously melted further into Remus’ embrace. 

The only way out of this was clearly going to be the death of you (via Remus’ smoothness, James’ loveliness, and Sirius’ boldness), their murders (at your hands), or stupidly drunk in love.

You weren’t sure which option was worse.

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #poly!marauders #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #james potter x reader #james potter x you #bartylus #regulus black #barty crouch jr #seer!reader #ellecdc fics

[artytaeh]

. . . this is a silly thought, but indulge me!

( i might write more elaborated headcanons about it, though. let's see, let's see. 🌷 )

thinking about reader having kids with mattheo or theodore. and despite these two being so similar in some things, they'd be the opposite on this:

because there's a vital part of your baby growing up, where they start babbling, threatening to say their first word. the silent expectation to see which of you the baby will call for first— their mama, or their papa.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

THEODORE NOTT is a mama's boy; even at his adult stage, having left hogwarts with you and putting a ring on your finger, it's inevitable that theo's mother always had, always will have such a special place in his heart.

theo looks at you, looks at the baby created from the strong love you feel for each other— and his heart aches, somewhat bittersweetly, as theodore imagines his mother there with his little family; making the scenario even more perfect on his eyes. theo constantly thinks about how much his mother would absolutely adore you, and be the best grandmother possible for your baby.

so, being a mama's boy— and seeing the tenderness you have for your child as a parallel of the unconditional love that theo's mother had for him...

... theodore nott isn't competitive for the first time on his life, because truly, theo wants your child to call out for you first.

not because he's uninterested or doesn't care for your child! no, it's the opposite— theo loves you both so, so much, that his heart feels like bursting from so much love, so much tenderness and happiness. it's just that you deserve it more!

both of you made the child, of course; a human being isn't made alone. yet, as much as theo supported you as much as he could— it was you whose body developed this little human that theo adores so much. you went through all those morning sickness, all of those cravings and body changes; it was you who spent hours in labor to bring that child to the world— it was you who fed them on their first weeks of life.

so, seriously, with all his heart: theo felt like it was only fair for this little human of yours to call for his beloved wife first.

and he even makes sure that such a thing happens!

on a sunny day, you'd find theodore sat on the garden; during these first months of this little human's life, it was a joint decision to spend them in theo's childhood house— where he grew up with his mother, on these beautiful grounds of italy.

sat with his back against a tree, theo uses his knees to support the baby's back, as the little human giggles and trashes both chubby arms and legs, amused by the tenderness of their father; theodore nott. he makes sure that the baby has their beautiful eyes looking at him— pronouncing the syllables with patience.

'ma-ma. mama. maaaaaa... ma.' he'd say, slowly for the baby, exaggerating the movement of his mouth, so that in a way, it would be easier for them to imitate.

it didn't matter how long it took for the baby to properly say those two simply syllables— theo would keep mouthing 'mama' over and over again, carrying the baby on his arms, to then point at you: with a cheeky smile (proud to be the father of this little human, whose also your child. you're their mother. and his wife.), theo gestures to the baby.

'mama. that's your mama; the woman i love the most. ever since i saw your maaaa-ma, i knew that she would be la mia futura sposa.'

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

MATTHEO RIDDLE, on the other hand, doesn't know how to lose; unless his loss brings some sort of benefit to him, obviously.

however this time... no, there wasn't much of a benefit, of a reward to let you win this time. it was a question of honor, of duty! to get this child of yours to call for mattheo first. (as silly as it is, mattheo needs a way to subconsciously assure himself, that he'll be a better father than his. that he'll offer support and unconditional love to this baby— not fear, resentment, and vicious bad habits to deal with the damage.)

and despite this tiny human being days, weeks or few months old— that doesn't really matter to mattheo, because he'd sooner than later teach your child about this corrupted world you live in. that this society, the human beings are nothing but weak meat, meant to fall into temptation, to indulge corruption and...!

long story short: mattheo tries to bribe the tiny human into loving him more.

and mattheo riddle is a creative man, you see; bribe is not just made with money, no, no. bribe comes in various ways:

demanding to be the one to mostly change the baby's diapers, so that mattheo could have more time alone with them, to manipulate that little brain to find it easier to babble the letter 'p' instead of 'm'— and one day, he might oh-so-dramatically say that he was the one to bear with the smell, who had to do the dirty work of changing diapers! because this being said, he deserves more acknowledgement, seriously!

encouraging this tiny human to talk. and when i say encouraging, i mean that mattheo indulges all those gibberish as if they were proper words, ones that mattheo assures to understand, and so mattheo and the tiny human engage a serious conversation. when the baby is quiet (which is rare), mattheo disturbs the peace and quiet, so that he can trick the tiny human into saying that simple, easy word. 'paaaaaa.... paaaa... papa. paaaa! pa!' he sing-songs.

by playing so much with the baby, be it with the amount of toys they have on their nursery, or by tickling, making sounds, already teaching the tiny human how to throw punches (just like his father! 🎀)— mattheo believes that he's associating himself to the feeling of having fun. so if not him, who else would they call for?! (you. because you're the most amazing mother, and mattheo knows that; he tells you that every night, so proud of this beloved family of his.)

another silly thing he does is pronouncing the word 'papa' really slowly, mouthing with such a dramatic and exaggerated movements, that it always makes you laugh when you testify it. however, when mattheo points at you, he says the word 'mama' in a faster way, purposefully making it sound very confusing for the little human on his arms.

and when you caught mattheo doing all of these things, so that he gets to be called by this baby of yours first— well, mattheo is already expecting a lighthearted slap on the nape of his neck, but oh well, the punishment and the effort are worth the prize.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻’

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— i'm on a huge slytherin boys brainrot. no, seriously, i have so many drafts about headcanons and drabbles about them; the comments and reposts of theo's drabble melted me into a puddle, i swear. :( tysm!

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

#theodore nott #mattheo riddle #hp fanfic #slytherin boys #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott dating #headcanons #theo nott headcanons #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle headcanons #fluff #dating #slytherin boys react #hp drabble

[pholla-jm]

Heir (2)

IMAGINE: HEIR~ SUKUNA X WIFE!READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: sukuna is a bit ooc. f!reader. true form sukuna. not proof read

If you haven't read the first part, here it is: Heir. ***************

As months went by, your stomach got bigger and rounder. Your back was certainly hurting, feet aching, and a constant need to go pee. 

You almost hated every second of it. 

If it wasn’t for the fact you were bringing life into the world, you would’ve hated every second of it. 

Someone that was almost more excited than you was your lover, Sukuna. He was dead set on the baby being a boy. He was so excited to raise a boy to create a future heir. 

He even already picked out a name for him. Akumu, not a common name but it was one that Sukuna liked and it was set. 

However, you had a feeling that you were having a daughter. But, Sukuna was not hearing any of that. But just in case, you picked out a name just in case it was a girl. You wanted to have a similar vibe that Sukuna wanted so you chose Yumekui. 

You were very close to your due date and you were extremely nervous. You felt like you weren’t ready. You felt the nursery wasn’t ready or that things weren’t baby proofed enough. 

That’s why you paced around the castle, trying to get things ready. You didn’t care that your feet ached and your back was crying for help. All you cared about was making sure that everything was ready and perfect for the baby.

You know who did care? Sukuna. He didn’t like how you are constantly on your feet, pacing around and just being worried in general. 

“Woman.” Sukuna calls out once he finds you wandering the halls. You turn to him, already knowing you’re about to get scolded. “You should be resting.” You pout a little, “but do you see that over there?” You say while pointing to an area where a sharp corner was protruding. 

Sukuna follows your finger, “yeah. What about it?” “What if the baby hurts themselves from that?” Sukuna rolls his eyes, “you’re being paranoid. Our son will be strong. A corner is not going to harm him.” 

There’s that word again. Son. You often thought about what his reaction would be if it was a daughter instead. Would he be mad? Would he kick the both of you out? Would he kill the child? All these negative thoughts clouded your mind daily. 

That’s why when the time came, you really didn’t want Sukuna in the room- just the midwives. However, Sukuna wanted to be in the room with you and no one was really going to defy his orders. 

Sukuna was being super supportive though during the whole process. He held your hand and let you squeeze as hard as you wanted, even though it felt like a little pinch to him. He also kept a clean towel to wipe the sweat off of you. Even the sly cursing didn’t affect him. 

The process felt like hours and you were sure you looked like a hot mess. Sukuna didn’t care though. In his eyes you were still the most beautiful woman. 

You could feel the baby coming through and it was only confirmed by the midwife when she said the head was crowning and you only needed to do a couple more pushes. 

You were happy to hear that as you started to feel more tired and weak with every second that passed by. 

Finally, you heard the sound of an infant crying. Relief washed through your body. Until you heard the words you didn’t want to hear.

“Congratulations. It’s a girl.” 

You felt Sukana’s grip on your hand loosen until he completely lets go of your hand.

You could feel your heart drop and your skin paled. You wanted to grab the baby before Sukuna did. But you were too weak to sit up correctly. 

“W-wait..” Your voice only came out as a whisper as your back hit the bed. “I want..” You couldn’t speak anymore as your head lolled to the side. You could feel a midwife trending to your side. 

The last thing you saw was the midwife holding the child and Sukuna walking up to the child. You could see the subtle frown on his face as he looked down at the small baby. After that, your vision went black as you went into a peaceful slumber. 

*************

Everything felt sore. Extremely sore. It took you a minute to come to your senses. But when you remember your situation, you sit up. Hoping to find your daughter safe and sound. 

However, what you saw was the last thing you expected.

Your daughter was swaddled, in the crib sound asleep. 

What shocked you even more was Sukuna. The man who said who wanted a son, stood at the crib admiring his child. 

His large body was bent over so his arms were crossed and leaning against the edge. His head was tilted to the side and resting on his arms. You would have never guessed you would see a sight like this. He looked almost… soft. All though, you would never say that to him. 

Sukuna heard the rustling of the sheets causing him to sit up a little. 

“I’m glad you’re awake.” He says and you nod your head. 

“Are you mad?” You softly ask him. “Why would I be mad?” “You know… for having a daughter. Not a son, like you wanted.” 

Sukuna laughs, but not too loudly to wake the baby. 

Sure, he was a bit upset when he heard that it was a girl. But as soon as her eyes opened, the same red color as his, he swore he could feel his heart stop. The cries were weak and pathetic in his opinion. However, when the midwife handed her over to him, her cries stopped. The baby looked up at him with wonder and she showed him a gummy smile. 

Sukuna would never tell you that as soon as her cries stopped he started to love the child. 

“No. She’s so small. I decided that having a daughter isn’t too bad.” You chuckle at his answer and peer over the crib, getting a good look at your daughter. 

Even though she was a few hours old, you could tell that she was Sukuna’s daughter. You could only imagine what she would look like when she gets older.

“She looks just like you.” You mutter, a little upset that you carried her for so long and she came out looking like her father. 

“Of course she does. My genetics are strong.” “Hmm, we’ll see with the next baby.” 

Sukuna grins at your words, “the next baby? Already planning for another?” “Wait, wait,” you giggle while holding your hand up, “I don’t mean that just yet. I still have to heal.”  Sukuna hums, silently agreeing. “Next time, it’ll be a boy. I’ll make sure of it.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging: @lotuskassagi

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #oneshot #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #ryomen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x you #jjk fluff

[rusmii]

Out in California, I've been forward stroking, swim.

— how the bsd men FUCK you. ft. chuuya, dazai, tecchou, and ango x FEM!reader

⟢ reblogs greatly appreciated mwuah 🤍

c/ws::: ooc as fuck cause its smut. lots of cumming and theres sub ango too as well as impact play/slapping in angos part. MDNI

a/ns::: omg gasp runi finally dropped ?!?!?! neways song is based off swim by chase atlantic <3

✦ CHUUYA fucks you like there's no tomorrow. his version of fuck is love, he is a verse-service top and won't hesitate to put your needs above his. "so good f'me baby," he whispers little praises above you as he rams his thick cock into your cunt. chuuya, at the start, tries to be as gentle and careful as he could, but most times he loses himself to the pleasure and let's loose a little bit of his strength. his grip his bruising and will hurt pretty bad later, but his dick outweighs the pain—"nah, don't," he grunts in annoyance the moment you cover your face, hips still thrusting in and out as he prys your arms away from your face and pins them above your head using one hand. chuuya is the type of lover to make sure that you come first or together. it's an absolute must, and when chuuya cums, you can feel that shit plug you up with just a few spurts. his cum is thicky, creamy, goey, and a little bit sticky. even with condoms on, his cum is so hot, it feels as if you've been doing it raw.

"fucking—! sweetheart, 'm cummin, you feel so fuckin' g-ghn-good for me— fuck! aggnn... shiit.."

✦ DAZAI fucks you aggressively at first. you were nothing but a one night stand, someone who he could relieve his stress from and move on without complaint. however, this didn't seem to be the case for the mutual sex relationship you both set up. at the start, dazai is a dominant top, not allowing you to see him so vulnerable, and at this point of time, he still has his bandages on. "no darl'.. so sorry, maybe next time?" he would always make false promises for you to top him during the next session, but none of that happened—until the relationship changes for the better. it takes a while, but dazai finally opens up, becomes vulnerable and finally bottoms for you, nervousness in his system as he's stripped of everything, including his bandages—"ah! fuck! w-wait-mhn! tha-that feels sooo goood..!" he whines into the pillow, back arching as you ride his dick like tomorrow.

"gh—! [name]!! i- i feel it—uhnn! im- cu-cuhnn—!!"

✦ TECCHOU fucks you so passionately, you feel like shedding tears out of the pure love you feel. tecchou is a traditional dom-top, always concerned about making sure you're taken care of first. "are you alright? does it hurt?" he asks as he's bulldozing your pussy. tecchous dick is long, with a fat tip and thick base. he doesn't tell you this, but stuffing you full with his cock turns him on so much, he's able to cum within just a few thrusts inside your hole. tecchou isn't a moaner, more like a grunter, but that doesn't mean he isn't enjoying it, nah that man is probably under the pleasure more than you, cumming and stuffing your hole more than you could imagine. tecchou has thought of kids at one point in time, but with him being in the hunting dogs it just wasn't going to work out—so let him fuck his concerns away tonight first, then he can fuck his kids inside you in the future.

"i- i think—ghn! im- cummin' 'm cummin, please lemme cum—you're so good for - gh - me—hnn!"

✦ ANGO fucks you like a bottom bitch, he's the bottom getting bitched. he absolutely loves it when you ride his shit like you're rocking his world; everything is nothing but muddled into one the moment he feels your pussy wrapping itself around his dick. ango is a loud bitch, moaning and whining every time he feels a trinkle of pleasure—crying tears of pleasure whenever you slap him. ango himself didn't know how much into slapping he was— he fucking loves it when you slap his ass, thighs, chest, and even face—" 'm sorrryyy!! i won't move again! please - ride me—mhn!" he begs after you slapped his face for thrusting up without your permission. he cums fast and easily, being so turned on by you, he just can't help it! ango writhes in overstimulation every damn time, but he doesn't make an effort to move, loving every single round you pull out of him until you're done.

“i - [name] - ghnn—! im - sogoodsogood—!”

im gonna remake my taglist bleh

here’s a poll for what imma work on next

RUSMII 2024 . dont do the basic copyright shit. ty.

#₇₇₇༝ scriptures #hi I got a juicy fic coming out soon trust #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #tecchou x reader #ango x reader #chuuya smut #dazai smut #tecchou smut #ango smut #bsd x reader #bsd smut

[draconic-desire]

hiiiii ive been brainrotting abt sunday and his triple face god thing abababah thinking abt him handcuffing reader and interrogating them with the truth thing he does to aventurine ARGHH omg questioning abt who they were with cos hes jealousssss AUGH you dont have to write anything off of this i just hope this inspires you ily

oh you have read my MIND. I’m currently in the middle of writing a fic with dr ratio interrogating reader like he did with mx. stellaron…but now imagining that with sunday?? wow.

i’m totally normal about this man. i swear.

Yan!Sunday x Gn!Reader

Fingers drum on the table, the only break in the suffocating silence engulfing the room.

“I’ll ask you one. Last. Time.” Sunday punctuates each word with another tap of his finger, and you gasp as you feel the Harmony sink its influence another inch further into your skull.

Despite the futility, despite knowing you’ve been trying the same thing over and over again for the past half an hour, you pull at your restraints. The metal chain of the handcuffs skitters along the table, the sound like nails on a chalkboard, but it does not budge from its steel attachment. You’re firmly and inescapably chained to the table in Sunday’s office, with said perpetrator sitting opposite.

He appears calm, but you’ve learned to notice the slight twitch of his eye, the falter in his normal smirk. His patience is one wrong answer away from shattering.

At your silence, he leans back in his chair, shaking his head. His golden gaze is chastising, almost disappointed. “Angel, you know I don’t want to hurt you. Just tell me who you were with.”

You only glare at him in response. Bullshit. You’ve lost count of the amount of times he’s forced truths out of you or affections upon you through the Harmony. The psychedelic pest in your brain is almost the norm by now, a poison he has slowly been feeding you.

Oh, Triple Faced-Soul, please sear their tongue and palms with a hot iron, so that they will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows.

Those words are branded into the flesh of your brain, your soul. And tonight, if you tell him what he wants, even more blood will be spilled.

Sunday’s jealously is as calculating as he is. It’s a knife poised at the right angle to spear you, to pin you with accusations that you can’t talk your way out of.

Like in this instance, where he has deluded himself into thinking you are trying to leave him. He’s finally let you out of Dewlight Pavilion (you’ve learned that trying to escape the dreamscape is pointless, so you’ll take your freedoms when you can), and this is the first reaction you’re met with? Being dragged to his office as soon as you returned and invaded, prodded, and violated by the Harmony?

The pressure around your temples tightens another fraction, and you cannot stop the pained cry that escapes you. Rainbow streaks cloud your vision and practically pull the words from your mouth. “I was with friends! We were at the Dreamjolt Hosterly for a couple drinks, that’s it!”

Sunday merely hums as he stands and pads towards you, taking a position at your back. You’re unable to turn around to face him, but you can feel the weight of his presence, the promise of his power, as he wraps a hand around the back of your neck.

His breath tickles the shell of your ear as he leans in and whispers, “Liar.”

One word chills your blood to ice. “I’m not!”

The grip around your neck tightens in tandem with the pressure in your head. “Do you really think you can evade me, (Y/n)? My gales are perched in every region of Penacony, and THEY are by my side. THEY see all, hear all, know all.”

As if on cue, the Harmony rips through your consciousness, and it takes all your willpower not to pass out. Exhausted, you involuntarily lean back into Sunday’s hand, which seems to please him. “Now, tell me the name of the man who dared to touch what is mine.”

Clenching your eyes shut, you shake your head. You’re out of breath and stumbling along your words. “He was just being friendly, and he was drunk, we all were, and all he did was kiss my cheek; it was a dare, and I swear to you, Sunday, we’re just friends—”

“(Y/n),” Sunday interrupts. “His name.”

The finality in the Family head’s words sends your heart plummeting. You feel your resolve slip as the Harmony tightens its grip and goes in for the kill. You speak the name aloud, barely a whisper, and know that you’ve just delivered the man’s fate.

In your half-conscious state, you barely register Sunday removing your cuffs and scooping you into his arms. He tucks you into his chest bridal-style, his wings fluttering across your face. “You did well, my angel.”

“Please,” you breathe, your voice wobbly with tears, even as you feel the Harmony retreat from your senses—for now. “Don’t hurt him.”

Sunday merely leans his head down to place a kiss along your temple. “Enough of that,” he scolds. “The only man you should be thinking about is me. After all, it is an angel’s duty to obey their god without question.”

And Sunday is, if anything, a vengeful god.

For that night was the last that you ever saw your friend. Death in dreams was your only reality.

#yandere sunday #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail #yandere #yandere headcanons #yanderecore #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere male #sunday hsr #hsr sunday #sunday #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #honkai sr #hsr

[shnarky-blogs]

RAAAAHH I LOVE THE SICK MAN!!

can we have more of him? :>

your writing is so scrumptious btw!!! ate it up so quickk

of course darling anon!^^

ᵗᵒᵗˢᵘᵐᵒᵗᵒ ʸᵘᵘˢʰⁱ ˣ ᶠᵗᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

Summary: Just you and Yuushi having a normal fucking session and him just trying to knock you up with his seed. ₜₕᵢₛ ₘₐₙ ᵢₛ 𝒸ᵣₐᵥᵢₙ𝓰 ₐ 𝒸ₕᵢₗ𝒹

You and Yuushi met while he was trying to get some relief in some strip club, his eyes landed on you and and he couldnt help but feel something tingling in his stomach when he gazes unto your form.

Never in his life he had met someone so handsome like the man he had before him. The first time you guys fucked was the best thing he had felt in ages, but after that he needed to pay. So while still in bed with Yuushi, you were whining and crying- shaking his shoulders roughly telling him to pay you now!! but all he did was let out some hums and shrug you off after that, not even glancing at you.

So, you eventually gave up and left his apartment with annoyance in your puffy red face after crying out to him to pay you.

"I am totally never gonna see that man again.."

You grumbled to yourself but, ironically you met him again in that very strip club you guys met a month ago, you were still pissed off about him but when he offered you to fuck again.. oh! the memories of having a dick so big like his shoved in you again was a dream come true!!! but you are not gonna let this man have fun with you without paying you! its so so unfair...

but eventually gave in though... you can't say no to a cock that good. some a year had passed and both of you developed something like a romantic relationship.. it was kinda ironic of you hating that man before but now loving him with your body and soul now.

despite him being lazy most of the time he tries pushing himself to get a job again.

sometimes he thinks of having a baby with you.. the thought of you having your belly filled and bulging with his kids inside, it was so cute just imagining it.

Now youre beneath him, his cock railing in and out your sobbing pussy while he praises you.

"Good boy sweetheart.. youre so cute.."

He whispered in your ear softly, his tip hitting your cervix making you mewl out his name.

youve been fucked by him many times now but with a condom, but now he was really going to finally cum inside you! even with tha single thought he couldnt help but slam harder and harder- gripping your waist in a bruising point.

"Fuck.. i wanna have a child so bad.. will you give one for me pretty boy?"

You just absentmindedly nodded as he piston his hips forward to meet your ass.

"You're so cute.. such a good boy f'me"

He smiled lovingly, taking your hand and locking fingers with you.

Your squeals and moans made him go nearer to his climax, your wet cunt clenched around him as his tip kissed your cervix

Finally he came inside you filling your womb up, you went limp under him and you were so so full of his warm cum.

"You did so well for me sweet boy... I can't wait for my kids.."

#x bottom male reader #ftm reader #sub male reader #x ftm reader #bottom male reader #male x ftm reader #cod x male reader #yuushi x male reader #totsumoto yuushi x male reader

[lemonmaid]

You know what I love chat? Reincarnation.

Imagine being Sukuna's lover in every universe, in every life, every time stamp, but not surviving a single one.

Sukuna remembering every, e v e r y single one. The anguish, the raw feeling he feels every single time watching you die.

Warnings: slowly crippling insanity, yandereish, pregnancy, male pregnancy, omegaverse, mention abortion, gender neutral reader but the first and second are female and male, child birth, sacrificing

First.

It was a typical love story, a farm boy meeting a daughter of a shaman. When Sukuna first started courting, the man of the house, (Name)'s mother, told him that he had bad, very demonic energy and needed to be cleansed. (Name) and Sukuna rolled their eyes and eloped.

Sukuna rushed to his shared home with you. He was in the fields working in the blistering summer heat when a messenger ran towards him, telling him his wife was in labor.

He felt ecstatic. He prayed to the gods that your delivery would be safe.

Appernlty no gods bared him that request.

"Mrs Ryomen!! Relax".

(Name) let out a pained cry, their stomach contracted, tighting to move the babe from their stomach, "I- FUCK! I CANT!".

Midwives held onto (Name)'s hands, easing (Name) onto their knees, "Ma'am- you have to push-".

Sukuna slammed open the door, hearing his wife's crys, "I'm here!!".

(Name) looked at Sukuna with teary eyes, "Suki- OH GODS!".

Sukuna rushed to (Name)'s side, holding her hand, "Breathe my love-".

(Name) let out a scream, the midwives speaking amongst themselves. A small cry was heard, "it's a boy sir".

Sukuna held a proud smile on his face, looking down at his wife to see their reaction.

(Name) looked at Sukuna in a daze and back at their son, "he's beautiful Suki....".

Sukuna looked at (Name) with worried eyes, looking at the midwives, "something- hey- something is wrong!!".

One of the midwives looked under (Name)'s nightgown before going pale. One rushed out of the small hut. Sukuna gave his son to a midwife, before putting his focus on his wife, "hey hey hey, look at me, don't close your eyes".

The doctor didn't show up untill three hours later, but by that time (Name) was gone.

Sukuna looked at his crying son, his heart heavy, his mind weaked.

'I would do anything to bring them back'.

'Anything?' A voice rang out.

Sukuna looked backed at his crying son, then at the marbled statue at the altar.

That day, Sukuna murdered his own blood for a gamble with a hinnagami. It wasn't until his death that he knew what he wished for.

Second.

When Sukuna awoke, or when he first gained consciousness; he was in a different world or what he concluded a different universe.

Alphas, betas and Omegas.

It was... peculiar, different, but when he found you again, he stopped caring. You were a male this time, a beta male. It didn't matter to him. You were his mate, his soul mate, and he wasn't going to lose you this time.

"I want you to take birth control".

You looked at him with a deadpan face, "Okay werido".

"I'm serious".

You sighed. You've only dated or courted Sukuna for a year, and it felt like he knew everything about you, he had his quirks but it didn't make you love him any less.

"Baby." You reached over, grabbing his waist, "I'm a beta.... I can't get pregnant. "

"Sir, I'm surprised to say this, but you're pregnant".

Sukuna felt his heart drop to his chest. You were flabbergasted, "HOW!?" Both of you said in allusion.

"It looks like you're just.... an omega in terms".

Sukuna growled, "in terms of what? He doesn't have a scent nor-".

"I understand that, sir, your mate has.... we just need to do further testing".

After the doctor left the room, Sukuna has his eyes on you. "You need to get an abortion".

Your eyes widen, "excuse me?".

"You need to remove the thing-".

"That thing is our pup-".

"It's going to kill you-".

"You don't know that! People give birth every day, and it there's, like, barely a chance of death! We live in a time of technology! Not like, the stone age!".

Sukuna huffed, "I think....".

"I think you're just scared, baby..." You grabbed his hand, "... it's..... I know you're scared and I am too, but I want this with you... I'm ready. " You smiled softly at Sukuna, your smile relaxing him.

You were five months pregnant when you died. Sukuna could've laughed. It wasn't this pregnancy that killed you. No, it was a freak accident. Who would've thought that a fire happened at your work trapping you inside on your last day before maternity leave.

Three

When Sukuna awoke again, he vowed to just convince you (trap you) to stay at home. This time, he would get a vasectomy when he was of age.

Sukuna searched for you.

He didn't care about this world.

He just wanted to find you.

He found you.

But you were already dead.

20

In this life, luckily, he had the chance to grow up with you. You both went to the same school, became highschool sweethearts.

War broke out, separating you two.

No matter how much Sukuna fought against it, he was drafted. Sukuna didn't care who he hurted, he just wanted to go back home to you.

Which is why he cut his own foot off. He heard of other men doing the same thing, so why couldn't he?

While waiting in the discharge center he found out that his home town had been bombed.

Sukuna started hating humanity.

He hated this curse.

He hated that no matter what lifetime he was in, he could never have you to himself.

489

This life started out strange. He was born back into the Hiean period. But he couldn't find you. Instead of killing himself to reset the life, he decided to take centuries long frustration on humanity, it was a good run, people called him "King of Curses".

Instead of dying, cruelly, he was punished by being sealed. During that he rest he could only think of you and only you, how beautiful every form, every life you've had, you were still breath taking.

He couldn't stand the fear in your eyes. He came back, and here you are staring at him like he is a monster. Sure, this isn't his body. And yes, you just saw him take over your student's body. But it doesn't matter anyways, he's back.

And no one is going to take you away this time.

#heian era sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #male reader #female reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader

[aperrywilliams]

If Anything, I Find it Educative (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Spencer is not happy attending the annual FBI Gala this year. Having to socialize with a woman who only wants to seduce him makes it worse. But one not-so-fortunate incident could improve his night somehow.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: Awkward Spencer. Morgan is stubborn about Spencer getting 'game.' Spencer spills facts about seafood (oysters), human biting, and cheating. Mention to Spencer's dick (only a phrase). Someone choking on food is described. A toxic relationship and job insecurities are described too. If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: Okay, people. This is kind of an experiment: I want to know how you think the relationship between Spencer and Reader might evolve (if it evolves at all). Good friends? Romantic relationship rom-com style? An angsty romantic relationship? Friends to lovers? Just lovers? What important things do you imagine could happen to them? (canon or not). What could be the Reader's whole back story?

This is just a one-shot, but I am considering continuing it based on your thoughts and suggestions.

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Spencer's POV

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There are few things I hate more than being surrounded by many people at an event. Standing in the middle of a crowded party dressed in formal attire is one of them. 

It is an uncomfortable occasion highlighted by uncomfortable clothes.

And this time, it's Hotch's fault.

Tonight, I should have been at home, wrapped in a cozy blanket and enjoying my new edition of War and Peace. But the annual FBI gala and Hotch's adamant request blew my plans.

"Strauss wants to see the whole team at the venue this year. And we are in a very thin line with her to ignore her wishes."

No one seemed conflicted with the idea of attending this fancy party. Even some of my teammates looked excited about it. While JJ and Garcia chatted animatedly for days about what dress they would choose, Morgan saw it as a chance to get to know the new female agents working at Counterterrorism. Rossi only wanted to know how good the scotch would be this year, and Prentiss took it as an excuse to have free drinks. For his part, Hotch seemed as calm as any day at work.

But me? I wasn't excited at all.

Reluctantly, I purchased a tuxedo for the gala. At first, I thought about renting one since I would hardly use it again. But my germophobic self made me think again, and I decided the expense would at least make me feel less uncomfortable.

Keyword: a little less uncomfortable.

Now, I'm standing at the entrance, scanning the venue, searching for a familiar face. The place is packed with agents from all divisions and their plus ones, so it's hard to find anything at all.

But a familiar voice pulls me from my struggle.

"Boy genius! Over here!"

Penelope is calling my name from a table in the corner. As my gaze lands on her, I can see Morgan, Emily, JJ, and Hotch there too.

A sigh of relief escapes my lips, and quickly, I stroll where my teammates are.

"Spence! You made it!" JJ greets me as I pull a chair next to Morgan to sit.

"We thought you weren't coming," Emily added before sipping her drink.

"I understood it was a requirement," I quipped, looking at Hotch. The aforementioned man nodded in agreement.

"It was, indeed. Have I to remind you Strauss is still mad about the whole ordeal with you stepping into a building with no vest and no gun?"

Hotch is right. Strauss made his life hell for a whole week until he notified my suspension.

I wince, remembering the incident in question.

Self-note: don't leave behind the vest and the gun again.

"You look very handsome, boy wonder," Garcia chimes, waving her hand and pointing at me.

I can't help but blush at the compliment. It's not she hasn't done it before, and I know she means well, but-

"Maybe pretty boy gets some game tonight," Morgan claps his hand on my shoulder, grinning.

That's why I don't like that kind of attention. At every chance, someone pips up and tries to play wingman or wingwoman for me. And although I appreciate their efforts, I like to move at my own pace. Even if some say my pace, it's more like a turtle's speed.

Giving him a tight-lip smile, I reach for a glass of water. I don't know how I'll survive this night.

Surprisingly, it is okay for now. I fall into conversation with Garcia and JJ, although it is more like me listening and them talking. Occasionally, I add some to the topic, and they seem receptive.

But Derek looks impatient to stand and march to a group of women talking on the opposite side of the venue, next to the bar. I don't look much into it until I feel his hand on my shoulder.

"You're oddly quiet tonight, pretty boy. What's up?" My sight darts from JJ and Penelope to Derek.

"Nothing?" I offer. My eyebrows creace. Derek snickers.

"I know what you need! Come on, let's enjoy the party and come with me to chat with those beautiful agents at the bar over there," he proposes. I shake my head.

"No. I'm good. You can go if you want. I don't think you need my help."

Derek rolls his eyes.

"Don't get dismissive with me. It'll help you to lose a little. I promise," he insists. And I know I'm losing my battle with him tonight.

"As if I had something interesting to say to them," I mumble, loud enough for Derek to hear.

"Don't say that. Surely, some would like to hear about, I don't know, oysters? And how they became a symbol of glamor or whatever. Because I'm sure you know that, right?" Derek points, grabbing an oyster from the tray a waiter offers him.

"Actually, oysters were not considered a status symbol until the 11th century, when the Crusades trunked access to seafood in Europe. Some researchers believe that-"

I'm about to explain the whole thing when Morgan cuts me off.

"See? Now, don't waste that knowledge with me, and let's share it with those gorgeous, shall we?"

I'm screwed.

I reluctantly stand to follow Derek. I know he's the best intention even if I won't tell him that. Maybe he's right, and I need to step out of my comfort zone occasionally.

As smoothly as only Morgan can be, he interrupts the conversation between three women by the bar. You would think they would return annoyed looks from the sudden interruption, but they did not. It is everything but that.

"Excuse me, beautiful ladies. Hope you don't mind some company. My friend and I thought it would be an honor to share part of your precious time tonight."

How the fuck can he do that?!

The result shocked me almost more than it impressed me. The three turn to us with flirting smiles flashing to Derek. And me?

That's new. And, of course, I have to blush furiously at that.

"Hey, handsome. Sweet talk, uh?" One of the girls teases Derek while the others giggle.

"I know I can do better, but you make me nervous, sweetheart," Morgan banters as smoothly as the beginning.

And that's it. We have their full attention now. Scratch that; Derek has their full attention now.

He asks for their names, and that's how I know the woman who spoke first is Vivian, and her friends are Julie and Ashley. The three of them work in the Counterterrorism Division.

"And who is your good-looking friend?" Ashley asks, skimming at me.

Why is she looking at me from head to toe?

Derek glances at me, and I understand it's time for me to say something.

"I'm Spencer," I wave.

Short and precise.

"Hi, Spencer. You are cute," Ashley points, and suddenly, my mouth goes dry.

As Emily once said, my IQ slashes to 60 when I'm in front of a beautiful woman. And Ashley is a beautiful woman. Her long, stylish blond hair, blue eyes, tan skin with perfect makeup, gorgeous smile, and a dress that accentuates her body in the right places. It would be stupid to say she is not attractive.

"Why don't we go to the dance floor while Ashley and Spencer get to know each other better, uh?" Derek offers to Julie and Vivian, winking at me.

Oh, Lord. Help me.

I don't think Derek or Ashley would appreciate it if I refused to stay here and run to the nearest exit. So I give Ashley a tight smile and prepare myself for whatever comes now.

"Well...?" she prompts, and I don't know what the fuck she expects me to say.

"Yeah. Nice party," I offer, hoping my attempt to small talk works.

Ashley's smile suggests it does.

"It is. Are you having fun?"

No.

"Yes! A lot! Are you?"

"Yeah. But I think it turns out better now," she says, subtly closing some distance between us with a playful look directed at me.

Is she flirting with me?

I clear my throat to appease some of my nerves. I need to cool off. If Derek can do this, I should try.

A waitress approaches us and offers some drinks. Ashley picks a glass of wine, and I prefer a flute of champagne. I don't usually drink alcohol, but I need it now.

"Slow down, boy. People would think I make you nervous," Ashley points seductively when she notices how I quickly down the liquid.

My eyes widen when she rests a hand on my chest and leans to whisper in my ear.

"I don't bite. Unless you want me to."

Okay. That sounds very straightforward.

I should feel flattered. An attractive woman is more than insinuating me right now; I barely said anything. But it doesn't feel like that.

Derek surely would tell me, 'Take it and play it, pretty boy,' but I don't feel like it. If we could engage in a kind of conversation, I would feel more comfortable. Don't get me wrong. I know what a potential one-night stand means, but I'm not good at it. That's how I am. Sue me.

I want to turn her down gently, so I do what I know to do, and people usually hate me for it: spit information.

"Compared with other mammals, like dogs and bears, humans don't have the strongest bite. Scientists measure the pressure exerted by an animal's bite in pounds per square inch or psi. The human bite force is 162 psi. The bite force of some dogs can reach 250 psi, while some bears have a bite force of over 1,000 psi. It's interesting, actually-"

Ashley is now looking at me, confused. She retreats his hand from my chest and hums, faking interest in what I'm saying.

As I go on with my info dump, I notice how Ashley changes her empty glass of wine to a filled one when a server offers it.

Aside from 'interesting,' 'oh,' and 'uhm,' she doesn't add more to the conversation - or more likely, my rambling - and by now, you would think she's tired of me. But no. For God knows what reason, she is persistent. I give her that.

Typically, I can ramble on and on, which is not the exception. The waiters and waitresses keep coming with drinks and food, and even I pick some for myself.

When they offer us a tray with oysters, I can't help but recall what Morgan told me before.

As I see Ashley ushering one to her mouth, I deliver an exciting fact about it.

"Did you know that raw oysters are still alive? Indeed, some people argue oysters might feel pain, and others say that because they don't have a central nervous system, they don't feel pain like other seafood species might."

Not looking at her, I focus on my oyster, inspecting it before continuing.

"If it's that so, the question is when they die actually. This is likely to happen when they are shucked rather than when they are chewed or swallowed. Scientists think this because an oyster's heart is right next to the bottom adductor muscle, so separating it from the shell kills it."

I should have known the lack of response wasn't due to the interest in the topic, although speaking was impossible for her. Her face's blueness and her hand on her neck now tell me something is wrong.

Fuck. She is choking.

I don't know what to do. She is choking on an oyster, and I'm paralyzed. The people around us start to scream as they see her turning blue. That picks everyone's attention, and I want to dig a hole to get into right now. But first, I should do something to help her. Before I can reach for her, a pair of arms hugs Ashley from behind and applies the Heimlich Maneuver. After a few thrusts into the abdominal area, we see the oyster fly from her mouth to somewhere on the floor.

At the same time, Vivian, Julie, and Derek rush to us to find out what is going on.

Ashley starts coughing, and some of her natural color returns to her face. The arms around her torso loosen, and that's when I notice the woman who just saved her life from choking.

Everything happens so fast that I barely register the slap across my face—Ashley's courtesy.

A collective 'Uhhh' is heard around us.

Before I can say anything, Ashley starts a rant full of anger and frustration toward me.

"Are you fucking crazy? Why would you say something like that? It's disgusting!"

Ironically, I'm speechless now.

What is wrong with talking about oysters?

"You fucking weird!" Ashley continues with her rant. It's like she has been holding it since we were left alone.

The woman who helped Ashley now looks between me and her with her eyebrow creased.

"Hey. You should take it easy. You're just recovering from-" 

She can't finish the sentence since Ashley turned to lash out at her.

"Don't fucking tell me what to do! I almost died because of this pathetic nerd here who can't stop rambling about alive oysters! Just thinking about it makes me sick again!"

"Could it be a hint for not eating them anymore?" I muse, gaining a chuckle from the woman - let's call her the savior - and a deadly glare from Ashley. I recoil from saying anything else, and it is the wiser.

"I should have known better than to engage my time with you. Even if you actually pack a big dick, it doesn't worth it!" she whisper-yell at me, but loud enough for Derek, Vivian, Julie, and the mystery-savior woman to hear.

I'm utterly confused and embarrassed. What have to do my dick with all of this? 

Derek is now dispersing the crowd around us as Vivian and Julie try to soothe her friend's anger, rubbing her back and arm.

I bet they see Ashley's wrath boiling and the high probability of her launching towards me to punch me. Their efforts to subdue her seem to work because, after a loud huff, Ashley only grabs her coat from Vivian's hand and spits at me: "Thanks for ruining my night!"

The three pass by my side to one of the exits venue.

I don't even know how I should feel.

I feel upset because my escape plan didn't go as planned. I feel relieved because Ashley didn't die. Hurt? Yeah, that, too. I didn't deserve a slap on my face. She calling me a pathetic nerd? Sadly, I'm not surprised. And it only confirms my theory I'm not good at this kind of setting.

With the show over and people not focused on me anymore, Derek approaches. I know what he wants to say, but I don't want to hear it. I'm done for tonight.

"Don't say it," I cut him off.

"I wasn't gonna say anything," he tells me with a sympathetic look, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Sure you not," I grumble. "And what was about that comment about my… dick?" I whisper to him.

Derek's face tries to remain neutral, but I know him better.

"What did you do?" I demand to Morgan, and he sighs.

"I may or may not have suggested a rumor about your attributes."

I look at him in disbelief.

"Shut the fuck up! You did not!"

"Come on, pretty boy. It worked! You caught their attention, didn't you?"

I shake my head, trying not to snap at him in public. Morgan can see the distress I'm carrying right now and relents.

"I'm sorry, Reid. I thought it would be a good chance for you to show yourself around. You're a good kid; you deserve to have a good time."

It's useless to engage in this argument again. I understand his good intentions, but like this? No, thanks.

"I better get going," I mumble, walking backward. I'm done for the night.

"Reid..." Morgan starts, but the shake of my head cuts him off. He sighs as I turn to head to one of the exits.

Walking through one of the venue's doors, I find myself on a lateral terrace. I stop for a moment to look around. 

If there were different circumstances, I would be enjoying this view. To the front, you can see a beautiful and thick green shrubbery. Several fountains with little waterfalls and statues recreate a neoclassical garden. It is no coincidence since the property where the venue is located is a typical Jefferson's Neo-Palladian construction with high ceilings and large columns.

My architectural appreciation stops when my eyes land on a woman with her back leaning against one of the columns, her left hand resting on the concrete railing, and her right hand with a glass of wine. Her face is turned to the side, and she is observing the beautiful garden in front of her.

I know her. I've seen her before.

Although it is dark outside, the light from the venue's long windows illuminates the terrace enough.

My brain comes up with the answer in a fraction of a second.

Is the woman who saved Ashley from choking. 

After what she did, nobody even thanked her. The worst part is knowing Ashley behaved that poorly with her. It's not fair. And it's my fault.

With that in mind, I approach her.

She seems too concentrated to register I'm just a foot of distance from her. I clear my throat to call her attention.

She turns her head with a confused look at first. But she offered me a kind smile when she realized who I was.

It's my first chance to look at her; with everything happening so fast, I barely noticed her trying to talk back to Ashley moments ago. 

And now that I'm in front of her, I feel weirdly struck.

Besides her beautiful smile, her eyes hold a piercing gaze, but not the kind that frightens you. It's more like she actually sees you and gives you her undivided attention. With light makeup, her face lets you see some of her freckles. With her hair tied to one side, you can see her neck adorned with a simple gold chain with a compass-shaped pendant.

My not-so-subtle scrutiny is interrupted by her voice.

"Can I help you?" She asks, and my cheeks turn pink. But I'm here for a reason, so I clear my throat before speaking.

"Sorry. I - uh. I'm sorry for bothering you, but I wanted to thank you. For what you did back there," I say, pointing to the inside. "And, well, I want to apologize too. Ashley wasn't very kind to you, considering you mostly saved her life."

She tilts her head slightly, a frown forming, while contemplating what to say.

"Well," she starts. "I'll take the thanks. But I can't take the apologies."

Now, it's my turn to frown.

"Oh, okay. Uh - Why not?"

Not that she should do it. It's her right to do it or not, but I'm curious.

"Because you didn't do anything wrong to me, so you don't have to," she shrugs, like it's obvious.

"I kind of did. I mean, Ashley behaved awful, and I didn't -"

Before I can continue, she shakes her head to stop me.

"No. Don't do that. Why on earth do you want to apologize for someone else's bad manners, considering she treated you like garbage?"

She doesn't say it as if she is upset at me, more likely as if she doesn't understand why I would do that. And yes, she has a good point. But someone has to do the right thing, and that's what I say next.

"It's just the right thing to do."

She takes her time, mulling over my words and whether she believes me or not.

"Okay. You're correct. It's the right to do. And it's a shame most people don't do it. But I still believe it is not your responsibility here."

Something is telling me her statement concerns more than Ashley being impolite. But it is not my place to point that.

"But some people do. And that must count as something, I guess. "

It's curious how her look changes from pensive to more light-hearted.

"Okay. You win this time..." she trails off, not knowing how to refer to me.

"Spencer," I supply. She hums.

"You win this time, Spencer. And being that said, I accept your apology too," she added, sipping the remaining wine from her glass.

I smile, nodding appreciatively. It's a little gesture, but I feel better after what happened.

Silence settles between us, and I take that as my cue to leave. I had already taken enough of her time.

"Uh, well. Thank you again..."

I trail off, realizing I don't know her name.

"(Y/N)," she says.

"Thank you again, (Y/N). Hope you enjoy the rest of your night."

With that said, I should get on foot to leave the venue, as I had planned to do ten minutes ago, but for some reason, my feet didn't want to move, and I kept standing there. (Y/N) look at me as if I'm going to say something else due to the lack of movement on my part.

"Are you okay?" she asks, and now I have the same question for myself.

"Yeah. Yeah. Totally okay. Sorry, I'm leaving now."

Turning in my heels, I'm about to walk away when I hear (Y/N) 's voice.

"I didn't know that, you know? And, for the record, I didn't think it was disgusting."

I stop in my tracks to look at her with a raised eyebrow. When I catch what she is referring to, my eyes cast to the floor, and my cheeks turn pink again.

"If anything, I found it educative," she adds. I try to decipher if there is some teasing in her words, but I find none. She's being oddly genuine. Oddly, because I'm not used to people saying that when referring to the things I tend to ramble about.

"Thank you," I sheepishly say, my hands finding home in my pant pockets. "People don't tell me that very often."

A puff leaves (Y/N) 's lips before she says, "Ungrateful fuckers." 

I chuckle at her choice of words.

Weird. It's the first time all night that I don't want to run away from here.

"Yeah. Something like that," I agree, and she smiles. Now I'm comfortable enough to make some conversation.

"Uh, are you from Quantico?"

"Yeah. A very adrenalinal position," she prompts, and I raise an eyebrow. "Finance Division."

I can't help but snort, and she laughs. "I told you. What about you?"

"Behavioral Unit Analysis," I reply. (Y/N)' s eyes wide in recognition.

"Wow. The one and only BAU."

"You know us?"

"Sure. I wouldn't forget a unit that has its own jet. I'm the one who enters the travel expenses from all Quantico," she explains. I hum, trying to figure out the amplitude of that sole task. "Like I told you, very exciting."

She is mocking herself regarding her job. But I find it impressive for a desk job. Not all people have the skills to run financials.

"Well, I agree it is not very adrenaline but very important. I mean, we have to travel around the country all the time. Our job depends on traveling."

(Y/N) has now an amused expression on her face.

"It's nice to know someone truly values what you do. Not even our boss does it," she points before letting a deep sigh escape from her lips. "Gosh, I'm being very judgmental right now. You're going to think I spend my life complaining about everything. I do sometimes, but I'm not always like this," she explains. I shake my head.

"I'm not judging you. Everyone has the right to say what things don't like or would change about their jobs."

"Well, thanks. Although I'm sure you guys have more reasons to be concerned. You risk your life on the field every time. That's huge."

She rests the empty glass on the concrete rail, adjusting her coat around her body. The air is chiller at this time of the night.

"You know? People say that a lot. And I agree. It's a dangerous job, but it's not better than anyone's for that reason, or whatever another reason for that matter.

Her eyes are analyzing me with curiosity. I'm not sure, but it's like she's having difficulty believing what I'm saying.

"Can I ask you something, Spencer?"

"Sure."

"Why are you here tonight?"

My eyes narrow at her question. Isn't the reason obvious?

"What do you mean? It's the FBI annual gala," I point out, knowing she already knows that too. She nods.

"Precisely," she starts. "And at the risk of being impertinent, I can say this environment makes you uncomfortable. When you were with that girl talking - scratch that, when you were talking, and she looked at you, trying to devour you with her eyes - you seemed like you didn't want to be there. Above all, knowing this kind of event is basically to show off to other bureau agents, I don't think is your notion of an ideal night."

If I wasn't impressed when we started talking - which I was - I am now. 

She assumes my awe as discomfort.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to overstep."

"No, no. You are okay. And let me tell you, your observation is completely accurate," I hasten to clarify.

"Yeah?" (Y/N) asks, and I nod earnestly.

"Yeah. Have you not considered applying for a position as a field agent?"

An amused laugh leaves her lips.

"No way! I would be a total disaster! And carrying a gun is not my idea of a dream job anymore," she points out, still laughing. 

I chuckle, but her answer makes me think. Before I can ask for clarification, she calls me out.

"Hey, you didn't answer my question."

I didn't, although the answer is simple.

"My boss made me."

(Y/N) scoff in disbelief.

"What? Did he put a gun against your chest?"

Well, thinking better about it, maybe the answer is not that simple.

"Not quite, but you can say I felt it that way."

I tell (Y/N) how my team always worries about my lack of social interaction, which isn't that accurate if you ask me. However, some of the pressure of doing things that people my age would generally do is finally getting me and pushing me out of my comfort zone.

She listens to me with undivided attention and seems to understand what I'm talking about.

"Peer pressure, uh? I can relate to that to some extent," she agrees.

"That's why are you here tonight, too?"

My question makes her let out a deep sigh as her eyes focus on the garden beside us for a second.

"Not really. Who knows, maybe I do enjoy being here?"

(Y/N) phrases it more like a question than a statement. And I can tell she doesn't believe it either.

"Enjoying being apart from the crowd, in a lateral terrace barely illuminated and exposed to the chilly night air? I can think of several other places to do the same thing without the trouble of a gala environment."

Her cheeks turn a shade of pink, which tells me I'm right.

"Not fair, you are a certified profiler," (Y/N) complains, faking annoyance.

"And you haven't answered my question either," I remind her. She rolls her eyes playfully.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Well, let's say I came here to prove myself something. Spoiler alert: I failed. That's why I have been mostly spending the night here."

I hum, knowing she is vague in explaining, but I'm not in a place to pry.

"Look, I would tell you more about it, but I'm sure you have to return inside. Your teammates are surely wondering where you are."

I can't help but snort, and she raises an eyebrow at my reaction.

"I'm sorry, but your assumption is far from reality. Considering what happened inside, they think I ran home. What I was actually doing before spotting you here," I admit.

"Ha! So it's true I'm holding you back but for a different motive," she triumphantly concludes.

"I didn't say that!" I complain with a hint of exasperation, to which she breathly laughs.

"I know. I know. I'm messing with you. Honestly? There are two reasons why I'm avoiding this topic right now. First, I don't think you want to hear the mess my life is these days, and second, I would kill for a coffee and a sandwich-" she pauses, stifling a chuckle before continuing. "Considering oysters are out of the table."

"Oh, come on!" I groan, seeing how she falls into a fit of laughter, so contagious that I can't help but join her.

"Sorry, sorry. Not very kind of me, I know. But I couldn't help it," she apologizes, still giggling. I bit my lower lip in amusement.

"Alright. It's okay. It's frankly funny," I admit, my words leaving my mouth before I can think of them. "Well, I could tell you more of those moments in my life - many of them - if you let me join you with the coffee and sandwich. I know a good place that is open at this hour. And you can tell me what kind of thing you wanted to prove yourself tonight."

Spencer Reid. Is that you? 

I'm surprised by my sudden confidence, and it seems (Y/N) is, too. She hums, scrubbing her fingers under her chin while contemplating my offer.

"Okay, I'll take it. But don't tell me later that I didn't warn you about the mess of my life," she points her index finger at me.

"I won't. I promise."

-

Grabbing a cab is relatively easy since the FBI considered transportation outside the venue for people who won't be driving.

The fifteen-minute ride allows us to have a light conversation. That's how I know (Y/N) has been in the bureau for almost four years. Being an Accountant by profession and with a Master of Science in Finance from Georgetown, she was recruited for the FBI precisely considering her outstanding skills in the financial department.

She asks me about my trajectory in the FBI as well. I tell her about Gideon and the start of my life at the BAU.

Arriving at our destination, I insist on paying for the ride despite her resistance. I assured her that she could invite me to the coffee.

It must be a curious image for the patrons to see two fully gala-dressed people stepping inside a diner at eleven pm.

We sit on a bench facing each other.

A girl who can't hide her curious expression comes to take our order. As promised, (Y/N) asks for two coffees and two sandwiches.

"So, Agent Gideon recruited you for the FBI. Why did you accept? I would have thought you would be more comfortable in academics," (Y/N) asks, stirring a spoon of sugar in her coffee.

"I thought the same at the time. But Gideon saw something I didn't. He knew I wouldn't settle with learning and teaching for the rest of my life, and I needed it to be useful beyond that environment."

I explain how profiling has helped us to catch unsubs around the country and how worthy it is for me. I can't think of myself doing anything else. (Y/N) listen to me with raptor interest; it is nice to be heard that way.

"You know? I haven't heard someone speak passionately about their work in a long time. It's good you feel that way," she says with a hint of longing that doesn't go unnoticed by me.

"It is bold of me to assume you don't like what you do?"

Maybe I'm overstepping, but I'm curious. And (Y/N) doesn't seem bothered by my question. Shifting in her seat, she leans, resting her elbows on the table.

"Not bold at all, mister profiler," she teases. "But not always has been that way. I would say I started to feel uncomfortable not long ago. A couple of months, perhaps?"

I hum, thinking about what could have made her feel that way.

"It has to do with why you were at the gala tonight?"

She chuckles, nodding.

"Kind of. Remember I told you I wanted to prove myself something? Well, it has to do with what has been bothering me," she prefaces.

(Y/N) relates how things have gone well since she got into the FBI. She felt respected, wanting to do many things and learn everything she could. 

That's how she met her boyfriend.

"I wasn't looking for a romantic relationship, much less at work. I wanted to be professional, separating my private life from my job. But he was so attentive and supportive. He always told me he was happy I felt fulfilled with what I was doing. He was so perfect I thought I had found my soulmate."

I don't know exactly where she is going, but sure as hell, that prick wasn't her soulmate.

"What happened?"

"One day, I wasn't good enough for him anymore. After two years of relationship, he started with harsh comments and criticism about everything I did and didn't do."

A humorless chuckle escapes her lips.

"I should have noticed. By then, he was promoted from desk duty and junior trainee to field agent. He had always wanted it, and I felt so happy for him. But that changed everything."

(Y/N) tells me about how her boyfriend stopped listening to her, and instead, every topic of conversation turned to his job, implying - sometimes saying it explicitly - that it was more important than hers.

"It's not only the fact we stopped communicating; it was realizing how low he thought about me and my accomplishments. At first, I tried to understand. Of course, he was dazed by this new life, full of danger and adrenaline. I could understand it. But when he started comparing me to his female colleagues and the things they were doing, way more important than the ones I was doing, it made me insecure."

(Y/N) takes time to collect her thoughts, sipping the remaining coffee from the cup.

"The insecurities got the best of me. At some point, I just wanted to run away and leave it all behind. I knew it was irrational, but I believed him. I even thought about changing my career and training to be a field agent. Good thing we broke up before I could do that," she admits.

"What stopped you? I mean, like you're telling this, you were going to change for him," I ask. She cast her gaze, averting mine. Her cheeks turn pink.

"I don't like to admit it, but the reason we broke up wasn't because I realized how stupid the situation was. We broke up because he cheated on me. I discovered it two months ago, breaking the camel's back."

Fuck. That prick was not meant to be her soulmate. And I feel the urge to have one or two words with him right now.

"I'm sorry." It's the only thing I manage to say. (Y/N) shakes her head.

"Nah. If anything, I'm glad it happened. Even if it broke my heart."

"He was at the gala, right?" (Y/N) nods.

"With the coworker that he chose to cheat on me. His current girlfriend."

Everything makes perfect sense now. (Y/N) was trying to prove to herself that the wound had healed. And from what she said earlier, it didn't turn that way.

She bitterly chuckles.

"Yeah. It's pathetic, I know."

Spencer, do something.

"No! It's not. Unfortunately, cheating is not uncommon, particularly in men. In 2020, IFS released a report stating that 20% of men have admitted to cheating, and only 10% have. In 2021, the Health Testing Centers asked 441 people who admitted infidelity to their partners and asked how long it took for them to tell their partners about it. 47.7% of the respondents told their partner within a week that they'd cheated. 26.6% of those have waited for a month, and 25.7% took six months or longer to tell their partner about the infidelity. And 60% of them said the affair started in a work environment."

And then again, the rambling. But instead of giving me a blank look, (Y/N) seems to consider what I just said.

"Maybe I shouldn't feel so bad about it then. Anyway, it hasn't been easy to get out of this. I thought going to the gala and forcing myself to see them together would be enough to get a closure," she reflects.

"But it still hurts," I supply, making (Y/N) hum.

"Yeah. I'm not ready, and it sucks. Not for him, but for me. I hate feeling so out of place, so dissatisfied with everything," (Y/N) retorts, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest.

Her eyes look sad, and I want to do something to fix it, although I know that nothing I can say would be enough. Maybe joking will at least get her off the topic.

"And there I was talking about oysters all night," I sigh, feigning disapproval. Genuine laughter escapes her lips.

I didn't know that making her laugh could fill my heart so much with satisfaction.

"That's life," she adds, now checking the time on her cell phone. "I think I'll get going," she announces, collecting her things and preparing to stand.

"Can I walk you home? It's very late already," I ask.

"Oh no, don't worry about me. My building is not far from here."

I know she doesn't want to cause trouble, but it makes me uneasy about what could happen to her walking alone at this hour.

Thank you, BAU.

"Please?" I insist. (Y/N) raises an eyebrow.

"Aren't you already fed up with me?" she asks curiously.

"Non yet," I grin.

Not having the energy to put up a fight, she accepts my offer, and after paying the bill, we leave the restaurant.

The night is colder now, and both of us walk in silence with our hands in our pockets.

I can't know what exactly she's thinking, but at least I can't stop thinking about tonight. For someone like me, it's hard to fall into spontaneity, but with (Y/N), it wasn't a problem. That amazes me, and I like it at the same time.

When she stops walking, I get out of my thoughts.

"Here," she says, looking at the building we are standing by. "Thank you for walking with me," (Y/N) states, smiling. It's the same warm smile she offered when I found her on the venue's terrace a couple of hours ago.

"Of course. It's the less I could do."

And I mean it. She saved my night in so many ways she doesn't even know.

"Well, I need to say it was a pleasure to share this shit of a night with you and turned it less shitty," she says, grinning and satisfied with her remark.

I laugh at her statement. I couldn't have said it better.

"Thank you. It's the best compliment I have had in a long time," I joke, making (Y/N) giggle.

"You are welcome."

I have the question on the tip of my tongue. I would love to see her again, but what if she doesn't think it's worth it? I opt for the vaguest thing that comes to mind.

"See you around?"

(Y/N) thinks about it for a moment. Am I being too obvious? Before falling into a spiral, she smiles at me again.

"Yeah, sure. Why not."

I can't help but feel the excitement pouring from me.

"Great! Well, I - I'll go now. Good night (Y/N)," I say goodbye, slowly walking backward.

"Good night, Spencer," she retorts before entering the building.

I watch her disappear behind the door, and I think that while neither of us got what we wanted, maybe we got what we needed.

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A/N 2: I'm excited to know your thoughts about this!

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #dr spencer reid #amanda perry williams #aperrywilliams #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot

[writingforstraykids]

Keep it together

Pairing: Chan x femReader

Word Count: 2199

Summary: You come back to an empty home, overwhelmed after a shitty day. Once Chan's there he makes sure to take care of you.

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, cuddles, emotional hurt!comfort

A/N: My dear friend and editor Miya @miyaluvvsyou wrote this beautiful comfort fic for Channie, trying to make me believe that it's "just a lil sth and probably not good"...please, help me prove her otherwise🤭🖤

Pushing the front door to your home open, you drag your tired body inside and let it slam shut behind you, ignoring the sound that normally makes you flinch. You slide off your shoes, drop your bag and keys on the nearby table, and take off your jacket to hang it up on the hook next to the door. You turn towards your living room, taking a few steps into your home. The air is still, silence clouding the air as you realize no one is home besides you. The sunlight peaks through your windows, and subtlety illuminates the space just enough to see the features of your home. 

You walk past the living room and towards the stairs to your bedroom, stripping the clothes from your body in the process. As you reach your bedroom, you drop your clothes in the laundry basket by the door and head into the master bathroom, leaving the door open. Standing in front of the sink, you look into the mirror and you inhale a shaky breath, exhaling as you examine your features while only standing in your bra and panties. 

Your hair, now frizzy and all over the place from its neat style this morning, is the first thing you see. The dark circles resting under your eyes threaten to deepen with one more sleepless night. Your eyes were red and puffy from rubbing them all day, also ruining your makeup you put effort into this morning. Your skin was slightly paler than normal. As you take in the sight, tears begin to brim your eyelids, and you take a shaky, deep breath to center yourself. You were drained in every sense of the word, and it was very apparent in your appearance, though you tried to hide it. 

And all you wanted was him.

A tear escaped and rolled down your face, but you wiped it away quickly with a sniffle. Moving towards your shower, you turn on the hot water and let the steam envelop the room for a couple of minutes while you continue wiping away the tears still escaping your eyelids. 

Keep it together just enough to shower. Wash the day away, and you will be fine…

You repeat the same words in your head as you strip from your underwear and step into the scalding water, letting it welcome you with a deep sigh. You try not to waste any time and energy getting to work on washing your body. With every scrub of the soapy cloth, you imagine every single worry and inconvenience from the week being taken away. But no matter how hard you scrub, your mind can’t seem to relax. The flowing hot water only giving you temporary relief from the icy atmosphere in your mind. And you can’t stay in the shower forever, as much as you want to sink down to the floor and let the water consume you. You resist the urge and continue cleaning your body until you’re satisfied. 

Finishing your shower and getting out, you wrap a towel around your body and walk back to the bedroom. Grabbing your lotion, you sit at the edge of the bed and moisturize your body as you get lost in your thoughts again, staring at the floor and spacing out. Your body moves on autopilot, making sure to cover every inch of skin with the sweet-scented lotion as you’ve done countless times before. If anyone were to walk in, they would think you’re just doing your normal routine. But they’d have no idea of the depressive storm brewing in your head.

Keep it together. You’ll be under the covers and away from the world soon…

As you continue your routine on autopilot, you tug one of his t-shirts over your head, slip on a pair of panties, and sit on your side of the bed, facing the window. Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply and hold it in. The tears that were in your waterline begin to slide down your cheeks. You exhale shakily, and before you can stop it, the tears fall faster. You begin to cry, feeling your mind and body give in to the breakdown you have been avoiding all day. As your sobs get louder, your body slides down onto the floor, leaning back against the bed, and your hands reach up to cover your face. You cry your heart out, trying to keep your heart from racing out of your chest. 

You don’t hear Bang Chan come home almost an hour later. He’s humming to himself as he closes the door, guiding it so it won’t slam, and puts his keys in the bowl on the table. As he takes his shoes off, he notices yours and smiles to himself, putting his bag next to yours. “(Y/N), I’m home, love!” He calls out to you. Taking off his hoodie and hanging it next to the door, he turns towards the living room, expecting to see you. 

But he’s met with nothing but the still silence of the home. There weren’t any lights on, just the few rays of sunlight coming through the window. There wasn’t any movement coming from the kitchen. As he walked further in, he noticed the tv wasn’t on either, couch unoccupied. 

“(Y/N)? Are you home, baby?” Chan called out again, his eyebrows raised as he awaits for a response. But none came, and he frowned. 

Strange.

Taking his phone out of his pocket, he opens it and calls your phone, listening to the ringing. A couple of seconds later, he hears the vibration from your phone and looks around to locate the sound. He follows the vibration back to your purse, where he sees your ringing phone with his name on the screen. He looks around once more before ending the call. He softly hums and begins to make his way upstairs, 2 steps at a time. Maybe you were in the bathroom or in the shower.

Chan notices the bedroom door open and looks inside, standing in the doorway. His eyes scan the room before he sees the top of your head poking out from your side of the bed. He exhales with a small smile and slowly walks in, trying not to make noise to surprise you. But his smile fades as he gets closer to you and hears your small sniffles. Are you crying?

“Baby?” Chan speaks gently to get your attention. Your head snaps up to meet his gaze, and his heart drops at the sight. You’re sitting on the floor in his t-shirt, one shoulder exposed and crossed legged. Your eyes are bloodshot red and puffy, tears flowing. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you sniffle but struggle to breathe. My poor baby..

He’s kneeling down in front of you not even a second later, his hands cupping your cheeks and wiping away your tears with his thumbs. “(Y/N) what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did something happen?” Chan rattles out questions as he closely examines your body. You shake your head and sniffle, more tears flowing from your eyes. 

“C-Chan I-“ You struggle to get out between sniffles. You put your hands over his and close your eyes. He leans forward and kisses your nose softly, then your forehead, and finally pecks your lips so delicately. It causes you to still, taking a deep breath and inhaling his scent. It calms you enough to finally open your eyes and meet his gaze. 

He looks at you with a pained expression and rubs your cheeks with his thumbs gently. “What’s wrong, princess? What’s upsetting you, hm?” He asks sincerely. Chan hated seeing you upset, especially if he’s the one that causes it. But since he’s just gotten home, he doesn’t think he might be the cause this time. 

“I don’t k-know, but hold me p-please” You whimper and wrap your arms around his neck. Chan sits back against the wall and pulls you into his lap, holding you close to his chest as he rubs your back. You bury your face in his neck and sniffle, trying to steady yourself in his arms. 

Chan rubs soothing circles on your back and shushes you softly. You instinctively pull him impossibly closer, taking deep breaths. “It’s okay, babygirl. I’m right here. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.” You nod at his words. “We can sit here as long as you’d like, okay?”

“O-okay Channie.” You whisper into his neck, steadying your beating heart as you find comfort in his arms. 

The two of you sit like that for 2 hours. Once your sniffles died down and the tears stopped flowing, you curled up in Chan’s lap, subconsciously trying to shrink yourself. He continued to rub your back while planting soft kisses on your head every now and then. He even started to hum one of your favorite songs to help steady your heartbeat. He didn’t complain about being on the floor for so long, he just wanted you to be okay. Once the silence was in the air long enough, he spoke up. “How ya feeling, love?”

“I’m okay…” You shyly reply, shifting a little in his lap. “I’m sorry I couldn’t-“ You begin to try explaining yourself, but Chan interrupted you almost immediately. 

“Shh hey, don’t apologize to me. My concern is you, no matter what.” He looks into your eyes as he speaks reassurance to you, letting the hand that’s not rubbing your back gently caress your face. “If you’re not ready to talk about it, it’s okay. I won’t pressure you.”

You nod and your eyes flutter as he leans forward to plant a kiss on your forehead. With a sniffle, you begin to speak. “I just had a really tense work week and once I got home, my body just…broke down. It’s just been so-“ The tears begin to rim around your eyes as you explain, and you take a pause to take a deep breath. Chan notices and kisses your forehead, running a gentle finger underneath your eyes to wipe away your tears. You take his hand and look into his eyes. “Thank you, Channie.” You speak lowly, but sincerely. 

“Don’t thank me, it’s my job to make sure you are okay baby.” He speaks softly with a smile. You match the small smile resting on his face and nod. “Do you wanna sit here for a little longer still?”

“Can we lay in bed and cuddle? You’re probably uncomfortable from sitting like this for a while. Especially with me sitting on top of you.” You give him an apologetic look, while an adorable pout rests on your lips.

Chan shakes his head. “You know I’ll never complain when you’re sitting on my lap, princess.” He says, wiggling his eyebrows. You gasp softly and slap his shoulder playfully, smiling as he giggled. “But we can lay down and cuddle baby, whatever you want.” He chuckles and kisses you. You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and moving to straddle his lap. He wraps his arms around your legs and stands up with ease, causing a squeal to leave your lips in the middle of the kiss. He chuckles and kisses you again as he takes a few steps towards the bed and lays you on your back. 

You keep your arms around his neck and wraps your legs around his waist to keep him close. He smiles and kisses your forehead and cheeks, going back to your lips for a soft peck. You whine softly and try to connect your lips again, but he pulls back just enough to be out of reach, a grin that flashes his dimples rests on his lips. “Channieee” 

“Uhn uhn, cuddling only princess. That’s what you asked for.” He raised an eyebrow, still grinning. 

You sigh and pout at him. “Just a little kiss?” You give him the best boba eyes you can manage. 

But he doesn’t crack, giving your pouty lips a quick peck before he playfully slaps your thigh. “There’s your kiss. Now get under the covers while I change my clothes.” He says, giggling at your stunned face from his movement. He gives you one more small peck before standing up and going into that closet to change. You smile to yourself and crawl under the covers, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV. 

Chan comes out of the closet in a pair of sweatpants but his chest bare. He climbs into bed and underneath the covers, pulling your body close to his. You lay your head on his chest and intertwine your legs, feeling safe and sound in his arms. He kisses your temple and smiles. “I love you darling.”

“I love you more, Channie. So much more.” You speak, placing a kiss on his chest and smiling to yourself. You turn on Netflix and you watch that K-Drama you both have been waiting to watch, feeling that much needed peace you craved just hours ago. 

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143

#stray kids #skz #chan #chan fic #chan fluff #chan angst #chan x reader #chan x fem reader #bangchan #bangchan fic #bangchan x reader #bangchan fluff #bangchan angst #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #skz fic #skz fluff #skz angst #skz x reader #skz x fem reader

[joelsflower]

little present | bfd!joel x f!reader

an: okay i know we’re in APRIL lmaoo sorry but i was listening to last christmas by wham! and the whole idea came to me. enjoy tho!! read it now!! reread it in december!! do whatever!! hope u like it!! :^) so yeah this is christmas themed a bit. sorry. also i apologize if i’m still mistaking “in/on/at” a bit too much, i’m still learning the language :/ hope it’s not too bad and doesn’t influence badly on your reading tho! no beta ops

wc: around 2.5k i believe?

tw: titty sucking and pussy fingering combo (yay!), beginning of blowjob but that’s it, soft dom!joel, older!joel (i imagine him on late 40s/early 50s and reader on early/middle 20s but up to you), best friend’s dad, teasing reader, teasing joel, teasing me, teasing you, reader is able bodied, afab but not described; there’s one part where “your smaller body” is used but in no way to describe reader, just to point she was smaller than joel. image also does not describe reader, only for visuals. no y/n. ALSO. weather not described!! shout out to us latinas who go through christmas sweating and panting 🫡 it can be snowing too tho up to you

🌹🌹🌹

You knocked three times on the door; unsure if it would sound impatient or even be heard due to the loud music and chatting coming from the inside. Sarah didn’t lie about the whole family coming this year for Christmas.

By the look on Joel’s face when he opened the door, your three knocks sounded more likely the angels singing.

His big brown eyes lit up like candlelight when they found you. For a moment, you stood there in silent, letting him get drunk on your sight and you in his. The puffy bags under his eyes let you know it was a rough week, a rough week without you. The raspy, yet-to-made scruff adorning his cheeks and neck inciting your skin without even being near it. His calloused knuckles gripped the doorknob and the muscle on his bicep swelled, making your mouth water.

You let your eyes dance from his salt and pepper curls and finally to the little bit of chest peaking from the deep red plaid shirt, and when your eyes found his he broke the spell, letting out what seemed to be the first breath he took since he opened the door.

“Hi, sweetheart. Didn’t know Sarah invited you.” he shrugged weirdly, hand resting on his hip and the other on the door, like he was nervous. Due to college and construction, it’s been around one week since you’ve properly seen each other — it seemed like a whole year.

“Oh, hey santa” you joked, soft voice coaxing his tired ears, nodding to the santa hat hugging his curls. Suddenly, it was like he remembered he was wearing it and took it off, shoving it in his back pocket while making a face, biting back a smile when your giggle hit his ears.

“Uh- yeah, I wasn’t on the plans I think,” your fingers carved on the plate in your hand, and he gave you a “stop that” face, “she just called me last minute. But I have this!” you motioned the plate a little, making it be noticed.

“Didn’t need to bring anything, ya know. Just you’s enough.” silence once again put itself between the two of you, and if you were losing your mind, Joel could bet he was losing his a lot more harder. Opening the door to find the only sight that could rest his tired eyes on a beautiful red dress that hugged your body perfectly, matching see-through black thighs that allowed him to see just enough and the need for comfort that he could well read in your gaze was not on his list, but was definitely a present.

Not being able to properly talk or touch you was feeling more like being on santa’s badlist, though. And maybe it was what he deserved, he thought, for fucking his daughter’s best friend and enjoying it so much.

You brought him back to life. What was he supposed to do if not give you the world and the best orgasms in it?

“Uh- come on in, then” he shook his desire away, holding the door open and watching as you passed by him.

One foot past the door and the chatter got louder. Uncles and sisters and cousins of cousins of cousins — there were a lot of Millers in this world, and all of them would be a problem if you wanted just a bit of closeness to Joel tonight.

“Thank you, Mr. Miller,” you looked up at him shyly, hoping treating him more formally would get you away in case anyone heard anything. Joel, on the other side, could not be less subtle while losing control of how hard he closed the door when your silky voice hit his ears, saying his name, thanking him. Just like you did when he held your wrists up your head and made your foggy bambi eyes roll back your head.

“Here,” he took the santa hat in his hands, stepping closer to put it in your head. The way his fingers carefully put your hair behind your ear set your body on fire, just the slight brush of its tips on your ear, the soft but swift strokes on your scalp to put your hair in place sending cold breezes up and down your spine.

“I missed you,” you whispered, lashes flourishing while your fingers boldly gripped the end of his shirt. You just needed to touch him.

But he didn’t answer right away, too focused on “putting the damn thing in your head”, which translates to an excuse to caressing your face and being close enough your sweet, peachy smell invaded his nostrils and messed with his brain chemistry.

“All done” your glossy eyes and quivering lips broke his heart in a million; all he wanted to do was take you in his arms right there. “Later, angel” he reassured you, taking your hand off of his shirt and giving you a softer look, that you knew was his way of apologising and comforting you for now. It was too risky, you knew that too.

“Oh gosh, you’re here, finally!” Sarah jumped on you for a hug, scaring the two of you, her bubbly energy warming you up. “Jesus dad, knew you’d hate it,” she gestured to the hat on your head, filling your mind with thoughts of him. “C’mon, you need to meet cousin Maria!” she dragged you away, the only thing connecting you to Joel being the lingering gaze you’d share for the rest of the night.

🌹🌹🌹

“Ha! Remember that, brother?” Tommy laughed about a story old enough to be your age about one time him, Joel and their other cousin Frank went fishing and something apparently went wrong, you weren’t really paying attention though.

Not when Joel’s hand had found your knee under the table.

You just had to sit by his side cause Sarah wanted to be close to Maria that was close to Tommy that was close to someone else and the seat by Joel’s side ended up being the only one empty.

“Sit there by dad’s side, he doesn’t care. Here, gimme this,” she took the plate of sweets from your hands, setting it on the table. Joel, who was praying someone could come save him from hearing the same story for the 10th time, made space for you to pull the chair and accommodate your smaller figure by his side.

Around ten minutes into chatting with Sarah and Maria and taking food from left to right on the table, you felt his knee brush yours. The simple warmth of physical connection between the two of you made your whole body vigilant, in hopes for some more.

“Ya should be there, Sarah. Never not funny seeing your old man struggling t’get some fish” Tommy looked towards you, meeting Sarah’s and Maria’s giggles. Joel bit back a laugh, it was funny, yes, but he didn’t want to look like a stupid old man to you. That’s when you meet him with a small smile and a brush of your thigh on his, inviting his hand to instinctively envelope your knee.

“Oh, I’ve seen him struggle to do less, believe me”

And I’ve seen him do more with the stamina of a teenage boy, you thought.

Joel’s hand snaked up a bit more into your leg, always careful to not be seen, but stern enough to make you feel him, invading the area of your inner thigh and dragging your dress up a little. The warmth of his large palm against the material pressing at your skin was driving you insane, the way his fingers were digging into your soft but covered flesh and his thumb squeezing at your outer thigh making your core pulse and the hairs at your neck stir up.

Mine, ran through his head.

“Both of you are on my badlist tonight, hope y’know that” he seriously pointed to Sarah and Tommy, giving them an angry-like look and the ones around you bursted laughing. You reached down a hand to lay on top of his, your smaller fingers enveloping his much bigger pointer one, his thumb immediately brushing your hand, his way of saying “you’re not”.

🌹🌹🌹

“I think I need some air” you told Sarah as you got up from the couch and released her hand. Your tummy was full and your eyes were starting to get heavy. From the other side of the room, Joel’s eyes followed you to the balcony.

The peace of the outside of the house was everything you needed that moment, trying to clear your head a bit from going into the spiral of Joel Joel Joel Joel to risky risky risky. The moon lit up the sky and kissed your rosy cheeks, the singing of the crickets taking you away from all the buzz.

Just when you closed your eyes and breathed in the natured air, you jumped when a strong hold surrounded your waist, the warmth of his chest hugging your back.

“Jesus, I— they’ll see us” you panicked.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” his other hand spread to pet on your tummy, paired with a kiss to your temple, “I checked, no one’s near. Wouldn’t want t’share you with anyone though, would I? Looking like my own little cherry on this dress” his fingers gripped the dress deep, sliding it up and down your waist a bit.

“I missed you so much” you turned around in his hold, arms wrapping around his neck and tugging at the curls at the base of his scalp. On your tiptoes you glued your body to his, closest as you could get, taking in the strong smell of his cologne that made your insides twirl. One of his hands danced down your spine to rest on your lower back, while the other held the back of your neck.

“Oh angel, missed you too, s’much. Can’t go a day without thinking about you, little one.” His deep voice whispered on your ear. Joel firmed his feet on the ground and swayed your bodies slowly left to right, calming you down. “Thinking about holding you, having you with me. About hearing your voice call me from the other side of the house and moan my name when I’m knuckle deep inside ya’”

“Joel!” You snapped his arm a little, staring into his eyes in disbelief.

“Am I lying?” he looked down at you with his rounded brown eyes, the same that could get you on your knees, mouth hanging open, with this exact same look he was giving you now. You shook your head slowly, fingers gripping his shirt, “Know you love it, baby, I love it too. Shit, should’ve found a way to see you earlier. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He rested his forehead on yours.

You took your head back and looked towards the living room, checking to see if you were still safe from prying eyes “want more of you.”

Joel grinned, “Later baby, ‘kay?”

You looked up at him, no confirmation.

“Hm? Can you be my good girl and be patient?” He held your chin up with his thumb and pointer, forcing your gaze to meet his, “G’na be worth the wait, promise. But you need to be good f’me. Can you do that?”

“I can” you murmured, eyes closing as his hands found your sides and gave them a firm squeeze.

“Know y’can, darling. My best girl.”

🌹🌹🌹

“Shhh, c’mon angel. Know these precious little sounds belong to me only,” Joel’s deepened voice vibrated on your neck, his teeth grazing the soft skin and making your head go foggy.

It was a combination of it all, to be honest; his hot mouth and beard on your neck, you only in your underwear and thighs and him fully clothed, his thumbs mercilessly circling your nipples through your bra and his very hard bulge grinding against your pussy and his whole weight pressing you against his bed.

It started when you both came back to the living room — in separate moments, of course — and then you needed to go the bathroom but the one downstairs was occupied and Joel suddenly needed to check on something very important in his room.

“P-Please, Joel,” you cooed, the pool in your cunt becoming unbearable, your wetness overtaking your poor excuse of panties and messing the front of his jeans.

“‘S okay baby, gonna take care of you,” he gave you kiss a peck, hands releasing your abused nipples to hold your face in his hand so his tongue could invade your mouth. “I’ma bad old man, ain’t I? Making my little girl wait for so long to feel good. Fisting my cock the whole week, thinking ‘bout this pussy gushing me in. Bad, bad man.” you shook your head no in a desperate side to side move, fingers gripping his shoulders, as if taking his shirt off, but his force was pinning you down just right.

A sudden grind of his hips into yours and tears pooled on your eyes, your hands stilling and your throat holding back a moan while Joel groaned at the feeling of his hard cock rocking against you. “That’s what you want, isn’t it, princess? To feel so, so good?” Another desperate nod. “Shh, c’mon baby. G’na make you cum for the week we lost.”

Joel used his hands to lift you by your armpits and sit you against his headboard, lowering his body so now he was face-to-face with your covered pussy, “oh, poor baby. Feel her, angel,” he pressed his thumb up and down your core, your wetness gluing your panties to your slit, overflowing a bit around the lacy edges. “So desperate to be touched, ain’t she? Just waiting for me to take care of her. I will baby, don’t worry. Been such a good little girl f’me. Gonna stuff you full in a minute”

He then proceeded to finally tangle his fingers on the thin stripes of your panties, but first giving the little bow on top of them a little kiss. “My little present,” he murmured, more to himself then to you, but smirking when realising how your core pulsed with his words.

The moment Joel’s fingers slid the lace down your legs and his hot breath ghosted your pussy, you were a goner; all your fuzzy bran could focus on were the strong pressure of his tongue on your clit and his fingers patiently circling your hole.

“Let me in, angel,” he begged and started to push two of his digits inside your pussy, his head now on the level of your cleavage, keeping himself from missing the reaction of his own little Christmas angel being finger fucked by him.

Your eyes screwed shut and your mouth fell open, making a little “o” shape when two of his thick fingers spread you open all at once, making you just so full. “My tight little princess,” he cooed, looking down at your pussy swallowing his fingers in and out, your juices covering his knuckles with each pump, deeper and deeper. The slick sounds of the obscene act you two were dwelling it almost distracted you too much from hearing Joel’s “who’s pussy is this?”

Instead of answering, your smaller hands held his face and pulled him to a kiss, a very wet, hot kiss, his tongue making home of itself inside your mouth and twirling around your own, teeth grazing at your lower lip hard enough to leave a mark and soft enough to leave you wanting more.

“It’s yours, Joel,” you finally gave him what he wanted, a string of spit connecting the two of you.

“Tha’s my girl.” He curled his fingers to brush at that spot that made your head cloudy and the back of your eyelids starry, pulling the sweetest, most desperate moan from your wet lips (both of them). “And tha’s my pussy, hm?” He watch attentively as your eyes got too hazy and your mouth too open to process what he was saying, “poor little thing, so good can’t even think straight.”

You caught Joel by surprise though, when your hand found his clothed cock, giving your best to grab at it as hard as you cold, messaging him with your palm and thumb. Even so lazily, the action drove him crazy enough to lost himself in your neck, fingers still fucking your pussy full and beard leaving marks all over your skin.

Joel allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of your hot, pulsing cunt strangling his fingers and your small hand palming his cock to lower his head a little bit, teeth pulling your excuse of a bra to the side (or trying).

“J-Joel,” you plead, the delicate lace of your lingerie ripping like paper in between his teeth.

“G’na get you a new one, love. Lot’s of new ones.” He lost no time though in greedily sucking one of your tits into his mouth, tongue languidly abusing your nipple. His mustache hurting the soft skin of the area while his spit and velvety lips caressed the burn.

Feeling your pussy pulse and pull him hard, Joel increased the pace of his fingers inside you and directed his attention to your other boob too, his spit lingering all over your chest. “Pussy gripping me real tight, baby, wanna cum, don’t ya? You can, c’mon. Cum all over me, little girl.”

And you did. Pussy squirming his fingers and almost making them a part of your own body, lips hanging open with nonsense babble followed by muffled moans and cries, nipples stiff and hard by the overstimulation.

His own little present, as he himself put. All for him.

Joel helped you calm down with sweet kisses to your cheeks and lots of “did so good to me, my love”, “missed you having you like this”, “my best girl, makes me so happy, baby”.

“Y’with me?” he nosed at your temple and noticed your eyes become more bright, the small nod of your head bringing you back to a fully conscious state of mind.

“Open.” he positioned the tip of the fingers that were once inside you on your lower lip, your mouth instinctively opening to welcome them inside. “That’s it, ‘atta girl,” he awarded as you sucked his fingers clean from your own mess, realising why his eyes became so dark with the action.

He hadn’t come yet.

You pulled your mouth from him and kneeled in between him and the bed, hands gripping his bulge shamelessly.

“Still gotta clean you up, angel. C’mon, we can do it later. Jus’ wanted to take care of ya.” he held your chin up to gather your attention, but a failed attempt, you knew he needed it as much as you.

“‘S okay, I wanna. Just gonna suck on it a little.”

“My sweet girl,” Joel complimented as his palm held the whole side of your face, your bambi-like gaze distracting him while you worked both his pants and underwear down his legs.

With your mouth only inches away from his girthy, veiny cock that was proudly bouncing in front of your face, you gripped at the thick hairs at his base and gave the swollen, ruddy tip a mouth-open kiss, silky lips enveloping the head while his precum oozed down your tongue and a deep groan left his throat. You then proceeded to find his gaze again, pulling the most sincere, grateful and innocent look you had.

“Merry Christmas, Joel.”

🌹🌹🌹

#AHHH WHO WROTED THAT #ofc lis wrote a christmas fic in april! cause lis is insane! and that’s okay! #don’t know if i love this one #but hey a moodboard! anyway byeee #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #pedro characters #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction

[feroluce]

So Sampo is canon described as the only person who can travel between the overworld and underground, but it's never actually revealed HOW he gets around.

I'd like to believe part of the reason he's so secretive really is just because of business. One of the best ways to keep your customers is by being the only one to offer something, and Sampo stands to make a pretty nice profit if he's the only one able to smuggle in supplies. Gotta protect the trade routes ☆

BUT the other part is because he's probably one of the only ones that could SURVIVE it. I'd like to think a lot of his routes enter the overworld either in places like Backwater Pass, where it's technically in the city but is overrun by Fragmentum, or on the frontlines, where it's frigid cold and crawling with Silvermane Guards.

If someone manages to get all the way up, and even if they manage to sneak past all of the Guards/monsters and not freeze to death, there's still the possibility of getting caught in the city proper by regular civilians.

And if Cocolia heard word of someone caught in the overworld, I can't imagine there's any way she would just leave that, she separated the halves for a reason. This person would be interrogated, and then the route sealed off, and then the Undergrounders would lose a vital supply route. Sampo has to be extremely careful to not get caught and not be tailed.

And I'm sure he does a lot of shady trading in Belobog proper, but I think a lot of it also comes from him looting the Fragmentum-corroded areas, too. After all, in the Cyrille the Fool quest line, when the trailblazer sees something strange in the Fragmentum, the first person they think to consult is Sampo.

So I love the thought of Sampo being like extremely disciplined and being able to be out there for like days at a time.

Looting is easier in the beginning, but eventually Sampo has to go farther and farther out for supplies. Sometimes he'll be out there for days, and it's not exactly a safe place to sleep, but he can stay awake and alert for absurd amounts of time if he needs to be. Going for 24+ hours isn't unusual for him on a big supply run; Sampo will be awake for a day or two, he'll bring back everything he finds to Natasha, then sleep for a solid 8-12 hours and be back up again. He takes a couple of low key days where he rests or does easy work, then he's ready to plunge into the fray again!

On the rare occasions he sleeps in the Fragmentum, it's not for very long, less than an hour, and Sampo has traps he sets all around him while he sleeps sitting up with daggers in hand. Caelus finds out about this habit the hard way because he gets restless and decides to go explore (I'd like to think with the Stellaron dwelling within him, he's largely immune to any kind of Fragmentum corrosion), and he sees Sampo curled up in a corner, head down. So of course he approaches to see if he's ok, and-

A trap pops and hisses

There's a bright flash of pink

Caelus blinks

His back hits the wooden wall behind him

There's the sound of reverberating metal-on-metal right next to his ear

Caelus blinks again

...and is shocked to suddenly find that Sampo is looming over him, pinning him to the wall, one dagger sunk into the wood and the other blocked by his metal bat.

And they both just stand there for a beat, until Sampo blinks the bleariness out of his unfocused eyes, and then he yawns obnoxiously right in Caelus' face and tells him he shouldn't interrupt people's beauty sleep! How is Sampo supposed to stay so handsome otherwise!?

Caelus only notices shortly thereafter that there's a thin line of blood on his neck, and he belatedly realizes that Sampo really would have taken his head off by pure instinct if he weren't also incredibly quick with his reflexes. No wonder he's the only undergrounder surviving out in the Fragmentum; anything that approaches in his sleep thinking they have easy prey is almost instantly demolished.

#honkai star rail #sampo koski #hsr sampo #hsr sampo koski #hsr #hsr caelus #sampo&caelus #like yes sampo is my favorite beloved babygirl-shaped pathetic malething chew toy that I wanna bite and shake around until the squeaker pop #but he is also horrifyingly frighteningly competent!! #when the trailblazer drags him out to backwater pass for the cyrille the fool quest chain all the weird shit has already disappeared #and sampo remarks that the fragmentum makes people see things; he's seen plenty of stuff that isn't actually there before! #which like a) WHAT DO YOU MEAN SAMPO WHAT KIND OF THINGS ARE YOU HALLUCINATING OUT THERE #but mainly b) this shows just how familiar Sampo is with the fragmentum and how surprisingly well adapted he seems to it #like he's pretty casual about it and treats it like no big deal #a lot of characters comment on how cunning Sampo is but it's more than just that- he clearly has plenty of physical prowess too! #And I love him being dangerous <3

[cowpokeomens]

Can you imagine Noah being nervous the thirst time he meets ✨Her✨?

Hi this has been sitting in my asks for awhile but today it is heavy on my spirit so let’s go!

Because Noah, my sweet baby boy, is a DUMMY. He’s a DUMBASS. So when he sees ✨Her✨ for the first time, he doesn’t even register that it’s any kind of love-at-first-sight situation, just thinks “oh yeah she’s really hot and I wanna sleep with her that’s what this feeling is” even though someone (jolly) points out that Noah has slept with more than a few hot women before and has never had this visceral of a reaction, okay, whatever! In my little pea brain I looooooove an opposites attract kinda situation, so I think it would be really sweet if Noah didn’t end up with an all-black-and-chains metalcore girly, but someone who presented themselves in cozy sweaters and keeps their nose in a book or someone who always checks to see if <clothing item> comes in pink and uses glitter on the daily (I’m not projecting you’re projecting it’s my post!!!) or even someone who’s very tradgoth versus just alt yknow? Like obviously hotness transcends aesthetics but there’s something visibly different about ✨Her✨and I think that’s why Noah does a double-take and shrugs it off as good ole fashioned lust. But then :-/ things escalate right :-/ because Noah goes in with intentions of seduction! But you won’t be fooled by hot band boys! You are grown! You know ur worth and you refuse to be another notch in this boy’s belt and I think that would be the nail in the coffin for our guy Noah. Bc he goes back to someone in the band (Nicky <3) and is like “she… said no?” And he’s VERY confused you see because He’s Noah Sebastian and he doesn’t do well with rejection and you were very kind but refused him and so Nick is like “did you try asking her to lunch before propositioning her with sex?” And Noah is like hmmmmm…… a concept, Nicholas……. So he returns to you, asks you to lunch, you say yes because you know you’ll be able to resist the call of him bending you over a table in a public cafe at noon (stronger than me tbh), and Noah is so PLEASED. He is giddy. He realizes he’s more excited about your lunch (baby does not know it’s a date) than the possibility of getting to have sex with you bc he desperately wants to know more about you, stalks your Instagram on his burner, finds your headshot for your work on their website and proceeds to tell anyone who will listen (Folio) about how photogenic you are. Anyways! So yeah you go on a date lunch outing and it’s in your neighborhood so you show him the cute shops up the road and he buys you a book you’ve been wanting but haven’t invested in because you have no room on your shelves (“do you want to go to IKEA?” “For what?” “For a bookshelf, I can build it for you-“ “Noah.”) and he thinks he’s never gonna be happy again until he sees that sparkle in your eye when he handed you the flimsy sack containing the tome you so desired! And maybe he gets brave enough to hold your hand as he walks you back to your car! And maybe you’re not just another notch on his belt so you invite him back to your place for coffee! And maybe! Maybe he shyly asks if he can kiss you in your kitchen and you say yes and he tastes like cream and sugar and his hands are on your hips but not your ass and he’s smiling into the kiss and it’s making you giggle and maybe I’ll light myself on fire from where I’m watching outside the kitchen window! The end good morning everyone.

#bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction #ramblin gal #bad omens fanfic #bad omens x reader #bad omens smut #noah sebastian head canon #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian smut

[icyblogs]

god bless u for the 141/fallout post i’ve been going feral thinking about a fallout au where simon is a pre-war ghoul who fought in the great war and still wears his power armor to hide that fact 🙏🙏 better yet even simon/reader fallout au where they were married before the bombs fell, and being a military wife she was lucky enough to get a space in a vault but ended up in cryo-freeze while he became a ghoul and they meet again 200 years later

Fallout!AU Ghoul!Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader WC: 1.2K words Note: Hi anon! I had to do a little research about how exactly ghouls and cryo-freeze functioned, sorry for getting back to you so late! (does it still functionally make sense no but shh its fine) Anyways, I hope you enjoy! (:

Ghost who was already in the process of becoming a ghoul before the Great War! Already a renowned soldier; one of which was elected for a new experimental drug. For the sake of humanity he was told, after all, doing this will guarantee a spot in the vaults for him and his precious little wife! Doesn’t he want you to be safe? Though he might not have necessarily agreed with the means, don’t the rewards outweigh the consequences? Doesn’t he want to live out the rest of his days in peace with you? For a good vault- wanting the best for you. 

These tests, these experiments.. would end up taking a toll eventually. Too late for you to ever see of course. Well, by the time the great war actually starts, it’s far too late to see the effects of it at all. The experiments required him to stay on base- very seldom ever actually seeing you. “Just a few more weeks.” You were constantly told, and of course full heartedly you’d believe him. Why would he have any reason to lie? So when the first bomb drops.. And then the next. It was no surprise when you were forced to go into a vault without your husband, so scared. All alone without him. ):  

The experiments therefore spiraled, the results becoming null, nothing necessarily coming from them- too many variables being added. And with the radiation from all the bombs well.. He was no longer a ghost but a ghoul. 

He’d be similar to ‘The Ghoul’ in the show in my opinion! Fighting his way through the wasteland, killing, maiming- adapting. Becoming the monster that was always sort of lingering beneath the skin, going back to baser instincts. Everything he did was for his vows. For you. See, I'd imagine that he would wear a power-suit at first, especially when his skin starts to sort of stretch and shrivel, like a burn— eye sockets sinking, nose concaving. If he had found you, he didn’t want you to see what he was becoming; his humanity unraveling faster than he could keep the spool pulled taut. 

Though.. the first year passes. Then the first decade. A century. Two. 

Eventually time slows to a lull; without direction nor guidance. Always sort of be bordering on turning feral, one mishap away from just totally snapping. Enough for life itself to become a constant loop of just sort of.. apathy. Life wasn’t kind enough to people like him, never allowing anything good to stay in their lives. So why would it in this hellscape as well? Going through this so-called life like it was nothing more than a hindrance. Traveling through the land, taking on dead man’s jobs; not caring for the consequences at this point. Because what really was the point without you by his side? Never forming attachments, after all, why bother? He’d outlive them anyway.

Throughout the years, settlements pop up left and right- factions forming, most dying out faster than he could blink. These days, vaults come to the surface- trying to rebuild, kind to any poor soul or raider that they come across, like sheep walking right into the maws of a wolf. Then.. a new community sprouts up. 

Groups of thousands coming up to the surface, building a town- starting a new life. It really wasn’t anything new; Ghost had seen it and experienced it before. Would be a year or two at most of having a bed, having a steady access to food and drink- the meals always tasted like ash, if he thinks hard enough he might’ve remembered how your cooking tasted. He could blink and he was back in his home, watching you sway to some music on the radio, donned in a frilly apron, and you’d turn around and he could swear he could smell what you had in your hands. His imagination always ended up the same way; his eyes would eventually lead up to where your face was; blurry and being forgotten- he’d startle back to the reality at hand, mood darkening. 

So this new community. It wasn’t really a question of whether he was to make his way there, if not to stay for a brief moment of peace then to swindle them out of some supplies. Because at the end of the day they were vaulters. Nothing in the grand scheme of things: would probably die to some raiders anyway. They were always so eager to please, to see the good in people, and they were just so welcoming and hospitable. 

And then he saw.. you. 

The dreams, his imagination- the fog seemed to clear the moment he saw you again; even from a distance.. It was just how he had remembered you- his wife. You look like you haven't aged a day, donned in a blue clad jumpsuit. Simon watches with a dry mouth as you provide a kind smile to one of the people next to you, nodding your head as the pair of you attempt to cultivate the soil. He sees the way you jolt when the man’s hand brushes over your own as if he had shocked you- and his own eyes narrow at the sight, staring unblinkingly as if he might miss something. 

A mirage, it was easy to think. A trick of the light even- the radiation boiling his brain enough to fuck with his head, to give him some twisted hope about something that should not be possible. You.. should be dead. Long gone and yet- why were you in front of him? A phantom? Another way to mock him?

The more he looked he knew it was not the case. He could hear your voice- the cadence, all sounding just as how he's remembered it for the last eon. It made him wonder however- why were you smiling? Why.. were you laughing? He wasn’t with you- so why did you seem so happy then? 

There was something about a corpse yearning for someone full of life even still; for someone who was unburdened by centuries of an unforgiving and cruel world. He felt like Icarus, wanting to get closer; to see if he would melt if he got too close to the warmth. He’d be willing to burn if it meant that you were within reach again. His left hand felt heavy as he flexed it to try and release some tension, gold band digging into his skin. And with how sweet you looked, it only made his teeth ache and fingers twitch over the handle of his gun, longing to be with only you. Would your skin be as soft as he remembered? His throat felt dry, taking a step forward, aching to herd you back to where you belonged. Would your body still sing for him, even as your husband has turned into a monster, even as the stench of death and rot seems to follow him everywhere he goes? 

Would you still remember him? ..Did that matter at this point? He’s never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

After all, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. 

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #Fallout!AU #Ghoul!Ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #dark fic #call of duty #cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #x reader

[haetrack]

mark couldn’t help it. he couldn’t help but to place his hand over his pants, palming himself when the only thing racing through his mind was how pretty u looked today, ordering a coffee from the cafe that he worked at. he thinks about how u pursed ur lips, reading the menu in concentration, the way ur chest heaved up and down when u came running into the store, escaping the rain. a groan catches in his throat, knowing that this was so wrong, getting off to someone he’s never even talked to, but oh god did it feel so right when his hands slipped past his waistband, fingers curling around himself. the outline of his hardening dick was too prominent thanks to the plaid pyjama pants he wore. he bit his lip, inhaling deep breaths as his hand started stroking himself. he remembers the spark he felt when ur hands brushed his as u handed him ur credit cared, he imagined it was ur hands that were rubbing against his skin right now, ur hands that were playing with the warm pre-cum that was dripping out of his swollen tip. the little voice in the back of his head was still telling him that it wasn’t too late to stop, but all he could hear was how silky smooth ur voice was ordering a drink, he wished he could listen to all the pretty sounds u would make if he was buried inside u. his pace quickens at this fantasy, imagining that he was fucking u right now, not his right hand. groaning at the thought of how good he would feel surrounded by ur warmth, his hips thrusting up into his fist harder and faster. his grip tightens when he remembers how ur white tshirt had gone slightly see through from the rain, how he must’ve been the only one who had the honour to see the traces of ur blue lace bra before u threw a crewneck on top. he couldn’t help but smile at the fact that u were wearing his favourite colour. his deep breathing now morphing into shallow whines with how long the pleasure has been building up inside. it’s the thought of ur pure, innocent smile that pushes him over the edge. the orgasm causing a string of swears being grunted out. his hips sputtering at the thought of cumming all over ur sweet face. his hands continue stroking, milking himself for everything he has. the clarity starts to settle and shame creeps over him at that fact that he really did just get off to a total stranger. but the shame didn’t last long when he discovers that none of his cum spilled and he doesn’t have to change his sheets, grateful for the fact that he was so horny, he didn’t even bother to take off his pants.

ngl smoothie dance practice mark has me in such a chokehold i had three other scenarios i started writing for him but they were all getting SO long i had to stop myself 🧍‍♂️ mark pls hmu i want u so bad 🙏

- 🌱

GODDDDD WHY MEEEE... perv mark who doesn't even realize he's being a little perv... i need him. 🌱 anon get in line bc i need him FIRST!!!!!

he would tell himself it wouldn't matter that he got off to you. it was probably just a one time thing that you came to the coffee shop he worked at. if he doesn't have to see you, it doesn't matter that he came in his pants because he'll probably never see you again anyways.

except, there you are again, pretty smile on your face as you enter the cafe. you're not drenched this time, but you are wearing a low-cut top. you're quick to order this time, same order as last time. mark tries so hard not to stare too hard at your chest, but when you hand him your card, he takes a moment too long to grab it, too busy staring at you. you clear your throat, and you're met with a sheepish look as his face turns red.

he's trying hard not to mess up your order, hands fumbling all around in embarrassment. he's also trying very hard not get a boner at his job where quite literally anyone can see him. when he calls out your order, he swears that your hand lingers on his for a while, and he swears it's on purpose. he watches you walk away, saying goodbye to him as you go about your day.

he waves goodbye to you. although he said it was a one time thing, he might just have to fuck his fist again tonight because of you.

#asks #🌱 anon #nct smut #mark lee smut #mark lee hard hours #OH MY GOD I CANT BREATHE #now i kinda want to make this into a fic #🌱 anon can u please consider letting me make this into a fic #i think it would be fun to write #ONLY IF YOU WANT THOUGH

[strwberri-milk]

Midnight Blues

Rafayel x Reader || Mild Insomnia, Comfort || 1 184 words

a/n: my toxic trait is pretending im a singer and compiling songs into albums and naming them and midnight blue is the name of the hypothetical album that encapsulates falling in love with rafayel and i guess i could make a playlist bc thats the normal thing to do but i just name fanficitions after them ig. also this is based off his treasure secret time - idgaf about the mensturation i only care about the fact that hums your ass to rest and the lore drop that is rafayel calling you at night when the two of you first start met bc it would help you sleep

You can hardly remember what nights were like before without the sound of his voice in your ears.

You sigh as you sink into your bed, staring up at the ceiling after doing another quick lap around the house to try and tire yourself out. Your body is tired, you know it is. You just wish that you could sleep, not at all excited about the prospect of having to go to work tomorrow after being unable to sleep all night.

You’re about to start your nightly routine of tossing and turning when your phone suddenly starts to ring. A smile makes its way onto your face as you recognise the caller ID, putting your phone against your ear and humming lightly to alert the other side to your presence.

“You’re still awake, huh?” Rafayel’s teasing tone asks through the phone. The two haven’t known each other long but that didn’t seem to bother Rafayel in the slightest.

“Yeah,” you sigh, putting your phone on speaker next to you on the pillow.

All it took was falling asleep one time in a conversation with him for Rafayel to pounce on that and decide to take advantage of it. You swore up and down that it was a mistake, that it wasn’t because of Rafayel that you fell asleep but deep down you know that something about that silky smooth timbre of his voice made your worries go away. You’d never slept so soundly, mortified at the teasing text that he sent you when you read it in the morning.

However, you had to admit defeat and let the man do whatever he wanted. Even before you met him it was clear that Rafayel didn’t care much for whatever the people around him want. He does as he pleases and now, it seems that he’s convinced you won’t sleep without him talking to you.

“If you wanted me to call you all you had to do was ask,” he says after a while, letting you get settled in bed.

“I’m grown. I can take care of myself,” you reply, Rafayel imagining a slight pout on your features as you did so.

“Ah, I see. So you don’t need me to talk you to sleep then? I’ll hang up then.”

“Wait!” you shout quickly, shooting out of bed and grabbing your phone.

“Don’t…don’t go. Please?”

“Begging now? I guess if you’re that desperate for my company I’ll give it to you.”

You can hear how smug he is, rolling your eyes at how obvious his tells are. You wonder how Thomas hasn’t figured him out yet – Rafayel isn’t nearly as sneaky as he seems to think he is.

“Are you driving?” you ask after a second, settled back into bed again and listening carefully to his end of the call.

“I’m heading back from an exhibition. I could have booked a hotel but I didn’t feel like staying the night there so I’m making the long drive home. I called you to see if you’d keep me company.”

You tug your blankets around yourself, losing yourself in their warmth as you yawn. The exhaustion begins to sit on your shoulders again but this time, it feels more manageable. His voice swims around your head as he starts rambling about the exhibition. You’re glad to hear that it went off without a hitch, having declined his invitation yourself due to a more urgent task of the day.

“Are you even listening to me?” he asks, bringing your attention back to him.

“Hmm? Yeah, sellers bullying you, people hitting on you, same old same old,” you mumble, burying yourself further into your bed.

“If you didn’t like it that much, why didn’t you just make something up to get out of it?”

“I couldn’t bail on Thomas again. I felt bad for him constantly fielding off journalists and this show was supposedly a big deal so I decided to do him a favour. Plus, I blew off all the shows so far this month so I might as well make myself seen at a more important one.”

Leave it to Rafayel to make doing his job seem like a favour to someone else. Even if he acts like he’s got his head in the clouds you know he’s genuinely kind – if you’ve got the patience to go digging through the layers that make up the enigmatic artist. You feel thankful that the world brought you to him, even if you weren’t sure what the budding feeling in your chest is.

“You had a long day, huh? I can hear it in your voice.”

You give him another hum, not wanting to bother with any words.

“Even if I ask you a question you don’t need to reply. It’s getting late and I won’t be home for at least another hour. I really did just want your company you know. I’m glad that you answered my call. It would have been miserable if I had to drive home all alone.”

It doesn’t take Rafayel much time to start rambling at you again. You don’t know how he manages to find anything and everything to say to you and keep himself entertained, laughing at his own jokes and taking the soft noises you make as jumping off points to completely go on a new tangent.

When he hears your light snores and steady breathing, he smiles to himself. The sound of your breath surrounds him in his car and if he weren’t such a responsible driver, he’d close his eyes just to pretend that he’s laying in bed with you.

Normally, Rafayel was perfectly content driving home in silence, finding the long expanse of road the perfect opportunity to ground himself after all of the cameras and people in his face. Honestly, he only left when he did to make sure he’d be able to call you at the same time he did every night. Your inability to sleep well worried him and even if you didn’t fully understand the extent of his feelings towards you, he wouldn’t let that get in the way of taking care of you. You make him happy after all, especially when he hears you try to rouse yourself from sleep in a desperate attempt to show him that you’re listening to him. The mental image of your sleepy eyes trying to focus on his face makes his heart melt, impatiently tapping his finger against the steering wheel at the annoyance of being unable to call you his just quite yet.

Even when he gets home, he doesn’t hang up on you. He’s careful to do his nightly routine quietly, using the sound of your breathing as his favourite symphony and he settles down for the night himself. He even continues to speak to you softly, wanting to make sure that his voice lulls you into a truly restful slumber. He thinks about you a lot and being able to help you in any form always makes his heart feel so full.

He won’t admit that talking to you on these late nights makes him sleep well too, putting his phone on the pillow beside him before falling asleep to thoughts of you.

#love and deepspace x reader #rafayel x reader #lads x reader #lads rafayel #lads rafayel x reader #lnd rafayel