#and the person I work one-on-one with for most of the day is the most naturally sneezy person I've ever met

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 4

in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.

part one | part two | bonus chapter | part three

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses

(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!

“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”

You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him. 

“That one is complicated.”

You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye. 

“You don’t know.”

“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”

“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”

“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”

“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”

Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign. 

You look at it. 

And then you set your phone down. 

“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness. 

Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 

“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes. 

“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”

You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment. 

He looks good. Almost too good. 

“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek. 

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head. 

“Me naked or you naked?”

Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“Mm… why not both?”

“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”

The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him. 

“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”

He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”

He grabs your wrist carefully. 

“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.” 

He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”

Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek. 

“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”

“So business as usual?”

He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best. 

“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”

A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.

Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body. 

You cover his hand with your own. 

“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion. 

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”

“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies. 

“Every time?”

“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks. 

“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”

You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense. 

“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”

“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”

You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this. 

“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”

Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy. 

“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel. 

“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”

He kisses your palm. 

“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”

“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”

Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.  

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him. 

“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you. 

“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”

Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly. 

“You want to know what I’d do to you?”

“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds. 

“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”

As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no. 

“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”

You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful. 

“What are you gonna do after that?”

“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”

Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly. 

“Yes, please.” 

He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting. 

“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 

“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”

The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it. 

“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”

It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for. 

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings. 

You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present. 

He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing. 

“I’m sorry.”

Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 

If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem. 

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest. 

“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place. 

You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand. 

“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”

He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair. 

“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”

You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him. 

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 

Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 

“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”

“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”

You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you. 

But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame. 

Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you. 

In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul. 

“Spencer?”

“Hm?” 

It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin. 

“I…”

Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential. 

He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands. 

“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind. 

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK. 

Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake. 

He knows. 

He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity. 

Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like. 

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.

Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before. 

You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.

But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it? 

Maybe you have it all wrong. 

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 

You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick. 

24 hours go by. 

24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up. 

Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure. 

Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)

Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off. 

You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking. 

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed. 

“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone. 

“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”

A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said. 

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room. 

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”

“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs. 

“What? Why?”

“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 

“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks. 

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”

“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble. 

“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”

When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no. 

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly. 

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence. 

“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”

“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”

“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”

“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”

Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.

“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”

“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.

“No, not you. You are always the exception.”

“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”

Spencer groans. 

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”

“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”

But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure.  After a pause, he sighs in defeat. 

“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”

“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown. 

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones.  It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic. 

“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”

“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”

“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”

Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”

Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand. 

“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket. 

“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”

“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter. 

“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”

“I—”

“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”

The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges. 

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it. 

“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”

“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”

“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”

“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer. 

Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—

“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing. 

“What are you doing with a box of condoms?” 

He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you. 

“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”

“You wanted them to be for you, huh?” 

You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that. 

“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”

It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before. 

“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft. 

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”

You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest. 

“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”

The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows. 

“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”

“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”

“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”

“Do we have to?”

The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts. 

“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 

“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”

“And I’m good. So...”

“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”

You groan in frustration. 

“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”

“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”

The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous. 

“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”

“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”

“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”

You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them. 

“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.

“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”

“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And  how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”

He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit. 

“You want me to come inside you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice. 

—

On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making. 

“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”

“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now. 

“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”

You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—

“’M not.”

Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that. 

“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”

You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers. 

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute. 

“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”

It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 

“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”

Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut. 

“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock. 

“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”

“I am ready��” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.” 

He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk. 

“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”

The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump. 

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”

“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”

“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”

He gets the general sentiment. 

“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Mhm!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” you cry. 

“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”

“Spencer!” 

He knows. 

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist. 

“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”

“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”

“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”

He’s barely kidding. 

“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease. 

“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”

You laugh. He blushes even more. 

“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”

“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”

The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone. 

“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”

“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide. 

Or if it was something else. It could also be something else. 

For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you. 

—

A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here. 

You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?

“Spencer?” you murmur. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength. 

“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?” 

Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink. 

“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”

“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”

“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”

Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous. 

“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”

Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue. 

“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”

“But…?”

Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared. 

“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”

The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out. 

“You regret your first time?” 

Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does. 

“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”

Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash. 

Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins. 

What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same. 

You want to scream bloody murder. 

But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”

Maybe that’s worse. 

Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence. 

“I didn’t realize you…”

I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back. 

I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me. 

I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later. 

If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was. 

“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help. 

More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does. 

“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”

Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound. 

Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more. 

“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”

“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right. 

“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.

So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here. 

“Goodnight.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic

[reneezsq]

forelsket

forelsket (noun.): the euphoria you experience when you are first falling in love.

❛ !¡ pairing; aventurine; sunday x gender neutral!reader.

❛ !¡ summary; a heartbeat too irregular, breathing quick and shaky hands sweating under expensive gloves. who could have thought getting attached is as sweet as your favorite dessert ?

❛ !¡ warnings; it is specified for both that reader likes anything with sugar.

❛ !¡ a/n; kinda self indulgent for me and one of my besties cuz she loves aventurine too much and i have a big fat crush on sunday (gotta cuddle the angel and the gambler)

♡–,✎ smitten:;

AVENTURINE

. never has he fancied himself over falling head over heels with anyone for the matter. any sort of relationship he could have formed, or bond to a certain extension, with anybody was surely for his own selfish desires. as a way to get over his life the control he lacked for so many years, a hope to regain mastery over himself and feel that for once in his life, all over again, his choices belong to no other than him.

. and at first he loathed the thought of falling in love. he knew all about the wonders it does on one’s mind: taking away their ability to form a coherent speech, the loss of the mastery of your own body and a certain yearning for the person of your affection. it scared him to some degree that if he ever fell in love he would yet lose all over again the freedom he fought to regain.

. at first, your meeting was only supposed to remain as a simple meeting. you were a new recruit to the ipc and he had been appointed with showing you around the main building. he had never planned to stick around too close or to engage in a full conversation. but his plans were thrown out of the window as he gazed at your pretty face. eyes sparkling at the view of someone’s cake in the fridge with some drool seemingly forming at the corner of your mouth. you looked so… how can he even explain such a feeling to himself or anybody else ?

. at that moment, he felt like simply coming up to you and wrapping his arms around you. only to keep you within his grasp and make sure you will never run away or be harmed. no matter if you are taller than him. but he had to shake away the thoughts to start the visit. and also maybe to know you better, after all only falling for one’s looks isn’t as wise as it can be, knowing how many beautiful people are the most dispensable people out the whole universe.

. just like he had dreaded, you were oh too kind for his heart to take it lightly. curiously peering at every corner and listening to him as he talked about the necessities of the work without too much details. he had to look away more than once and pray the pink dye on his glasses would conceal the ever growing blush on his cheeks. seriously, how unfair can you be ?! making him all flushy inside that he almost wants to melt when you waved him goodbye to go to your section to get to work.

. but, for some reasons, he did not find this uncomfortable in the slightest bit. his body was still his at the end of the day, and only the brushing of your fingers against his gloved ones remained in his mind. for once, he wished to take off his glove to feel some contact for the first time since so long. if it’s yours, he doesn’t feel like he will mind it too much.

SUNDAY

. he never really spared any real thought towards loving and being loved. he had more important matters like the health of his sister and her happiness, his role as the spokesman of the family and all the worries that came with taking care of penacony. so, truthfully, the idea never really came to his mind, and if it did he would discard it away without any real second chances for it to last.

. but during certain nights, he indulges in those kind of feelings that swirl deep within him as he wonders how he will feel if he falls in love with an individual. will his biggest strength to deliver eloquent speeches to move away a whole crowd for his own benefits turn into sand if he gazes too long in the eyes of the one that would steal his heart ? would his face heat up in the haste of their shared love and would he find himself holding their hands with a grip a bit too tight ? who knows. maybe he does want to fall in love in the end…

. the first moment your gazes crossed paths was during a concert of his sister. he enjoys watching those above all else. drowning in her beautiful melodies and allowing himself to breathe in the imagery of a field of flowers where he can feel the heartbeat of the world as he lies down the grass. ah, what a beautiful view of the sky painted in the hues of the ocean. how much he enjoys indulging himself in such lovely views created by the dreams of his mind.

. this is when he first saw you. all panicked in the crowd and breathing heavily because everyone was being too rough and too noisy next to you. he felt a pang of empathy towards this strangely beautiful stranger that got the unluck of being stuck next to so many disrespectful people. and his steps made him walk closer to you. a hand over their shoulder to catch your attention before he led you away from the concert.

. when you two went to relax in a small cafe away from everyone else, he turned on his phone to watch the live performance of his sister’s concert (which he has free access to). maybe you cannot be there, but at least you will still be able to hear her singing and see the thing as a full. afterwards, one drink in silence turned into two, then three as the conversation continued onwards. and he found himself unable to stop it, wanting to know more and more about you. and for once he did not want to know that in case it was needed, he was curious.

. when he bid you farewell and returned home, his sister couldn’t stop herself from telling him he seemed in such a brighter mood than he was at the start of the day. the honest smile in his lips and gaze dwelling back into what had happened that day. he simply told her he got a new acquaintance as he stared at the screen on his phone, with your number on it. well, that was a very precious day now, wouldn’t you say so ?

♡–,✎ wooing:;

AVENTURINE

. he’s insufferable. honestly. when he got over his little crush, all that stayed was a weird mix between the mask he puts over himself for the attire of confidence he had put over his own heart and the clear indication that you might be a bit more in his eyes. however, you will never know if it is genuine or not for a while. a gambler never reveals his cards.

. instead, the sole lead that remained to help you in your decision making was the small gestures he did all the time, his constant bothering you with calls, messages and funny little notes found in your office as well as the never ending questions by his side. one could be a coincidence, two was weird, after three you knew there was no getting away from that sickeningly stunning man you both adored and loathed sometimes (how can he be so adorably annoying ?)

. your missions end quickly, for one reason: you do nothing instead sitting next to him as he bets his life for the fifth time tonight. you know he will win but you cannot help the faceplan on your face as he proudly places down his cards for a final round and challenges opponents thinking they are a bit too lucky. you are no fool in front of his hand behind his back or the unmistakable shaking of it as it rests against his thigh under the table in a closed shaky fist. you never really dared to hold it, as to not break any bound that might last between you too. but as he looks at you to see the fondness with which you gaze at him, he feels like he already hit the jackpot.

. those nights always end up with your fist lightly hitting the top of his head after stealing his hat as a reminder that he is not eternal and he scared you to death. then he runs after you while making sure to remain slower, only to see the sun smiling back at him in all its glory. if you are lucky enough, he will let you wear it. fret not ! if he says no, attack him by the heartstrings with the cute big round eyes and a sad pout gracing your lips. he never won. his maximum is 26 seconds, dr. ratio counted for you one day. how kind.

. the type to use cringe pick up lines, but he is forgiven by his undying attractive looks. would call you the weirdest things during those times to make a bad joke meant to make your heart swoon. forgive him for being so bad, it’s his first time falling in love and not everyone is born with enough charisma to be both lucky in games and lucky in love. a loser, but one you comfort during his most unlucky defeats against your heart with a little peck in the cheeks. suddenly his mood is brighter and he is bringing you along to a shop or a restaurant.

. his money becomes yours the moment his heart was a bit faster and harder against his ribs. you could gaze at a cake from the other side of a window for 0.4 seconds and he had magically appeared inside. not like you complain but your stomach is starting to be a bit more demanding and whiny when you are close to him. he caught onto that and lightly poke you every time before heading towards another dinner you two will share. you will get your cake, but let’s get a healthy meal first to ensure you will stay all pretty and happy. he wouldn’t want you feeling bad over your body because he couldn’t resist your stare. he is no simp, promise (is that his fingers crossed behind his back ??)

. sometimes he comes to your house too. you two act like a couple more than you would both enjoy to admit. him lazily sipping on some coffee and answering calls here and there from the ipc while you are cooking or doing anything really. he could send you a weird meme of two cats biting each other with a “us <3” while you two are sharing a blanket and watching a film at the same time, in the same house, in the same room, in the same couch and almost cuddling. what a funny little man.

. his confession would be sweet. for once, no casino was involved during the whole night. you might think he was perhaps a bit sick but no, he was not ! feeling perfectly a–okay, although his perfume is a bit more prominent and for some reasons he is buying you more things than usual.

. please, let him talk first. he will not be able to say anything if you even dare to utter a word as you two arrive under the starry sky in an abandoned park. with some lamp, he will use morse code:

.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..-

. your answer was: ..--- ; and he felt like falling in love all over again as you both started laughing over your own dumb love towards one another. ignore the tears, he is just happy. and perhaps this small shooting star was his sister’s best wishes.

SUNDAY

. the first thing he ever does when he goes to meet you is buying you flowers. now you have a ton of bouquets around your house and had to convince him to maybe settle for something that you two could consume or else you would have enough plants for the funerals of all your family members, that is if the bouquets were not holding a deep message. yes, he loves the implicit. the ones he loves gifting you the most are orchids¹, red roses² for the classics as well as carnations³ and sunflowers⁴.

. the embodiment of a gentleman and i am not joking. for him, courting you is not something to be taken lightly. he is playing his future love life on the line and will not allow any mistake to be made on his end. he wants to win over your heart and be a big selfish as to remain the sole object of your affection, and he will accomplish such a goal but being as gentle as he can be with you — without, of course, being too overbearing or controlling with you. he wants something genuine, not you accepting his love because you felt forced to do such a thing based on his status as a leader or place in the family. hence why he will refuse for a certain while to talk about his profession, he will end up telling you, pinky promise, but not now yet.

. going back to the previous subject of him being a gentleman. he will hold the doors open for you, all the time and it can maybe turn into a competition if you try to beat him. his arms quickly around your waist to stop you as you two giggle like two teenagers a bit too smitten. walking down some stairs ? here, his hand. he wouldn’t want your ankle to be twisted. and the feeling of your hand in his is quite enjoyable too. i am also talking about pulling your chair for you (if you sit first he will do this tiktok trend of being unable to move the chair to have you check it so he can pull it for you), letting his shoulder be soaked when it rains and you have only one umbrella as well as kissing your knuckles when you two meet.

. he always has his hands on you, i swear. it is so very obvious he has fallen head over heels with you and even he cannot deny it any longer. but when his hand is always resting at your lower back — your consent is included, if you do not like it he will let you take hold of his arm instead — as you walk through a particularly crowded place in the streets or in a building. always the perfect guide to accompany you to your destination. travel in security, travel with sunday !

. do not think his sister is not involved in his plans to win over your heart, because if you think so you are solely mistaken. she already knows of his adoration for you and even gives him small pieces of advice. after all, she has a lot of fans trying to woo her, so she knows different tactics and will share those that make her a bit weak in the knees to help her brother with his soon–to–be–lover. she went as far as to do a concert with only the two of you, singing a love song while you were humming alongside her tune. he still cherishes this moment when he hasn’t seen you for a certain while.

. he never enters your home without the green flag to do so. the most he did the first few days you went out together was accompany you to the porch and flash a small wink your way, the two of you letting out small laughs at how corny and movie–like the whole ordeal has been. seriously, it feels like a mix of your favorite book tropes with all the cringy stuff that you can view in your favorite romance movies. but you two are a sucker for traditional romance, how can you be blamed ?

. now, for his confession, oh lord. he became the best husband in one night and you were feeling all hot in the face all day. because, yes, he booked a whole day of different activities the two of you could do together. from sharing a simple meal to making some poems. he wrote the best ballads and sonnets you have ever read in the entirety of your life — seriously, how can a man be so talented in such different fields ?

. at the end of the day, you two walked in a park where you both ended up sitting down on the same bench. there was barely no one around as it was late enough already, and when the lamps finally lit up, you saw the whole city come back to life for the night. it was a whole show in itself, to see the advertisements light up, the street lamp illuminating the roads and the atmosphere changing around the two of you.

. after a small quick breath, he placed a present upon your lap and let you open it. it consisted of a music box, playing one of the unreleased songs of his sister you had the pleasure to listen to with him. but there was a particularity: this was a love song. when you gazed back at one another, you both knew.

♡–,✎ engagement:;

AVENTURINE

. the bad pick up lines got worse. now he uses them when falling off the stairs, upon stumbling with his own two feet over some air and when he has a good hair day (clue: he always has good hair). so no, there is no escaping his constant praises and compliments and cringy flirting. but you’ll forgive him, won’t you ?

. he is so affectionate it feels like he became some glue next to you. there is no joke in that. when you two are at home to simply relax he will have his arms around you while doing anything at all. but don’t let your guard down, he might take off his clothes to move your shirt aside and rest his freezing hand upon your skin directly. just to hear your little squeals as you look up at him. his other hand will hold your cheek to feel the warmth burning at his fingertips before kissing it better as his own small apology. during moments like these, make it difficult to regain his love. more kisses for the two of you and more cuddling too.

. even in the casino he goes, he is affectionate too openly. he has really no shame screaming at the top of his lungs how much he loves you and the fact you are all he ever dreamt of having. your head is resting on his shoulder with one arm around your waist. he found that tracing forms on your skin is better than gripping a chip in secret, and now it comes naturally. if you ever fall asleep on him while he plays, he will not hesitate to take off his hate and put it on your to hide the lights from your eyes and allow you a better sleep. even when the game ended, he will stay at the table a few more moments to then give you the correct time to wake up from your little nap. i hope you don’t mind being awakened by kisses all over your face.

. his hat is the only thing he shares, sorry not sorry. his clothes are his and he wants to keep them as such. if you want to wear them he will happily buy you something similar, but the idea of sharing clothes is not something he cherishes that much. however, matching clothes ? this he doesn’t mind ! matching pajamas sets ? check. matching glasses ? check. matching accessories ? check. wearing matching pairs only add to the whole showing off you are his, doesn’t it ?

. he is not that possessive per say, maybe simply a bit paranoid that things might happen to you in hopes of getting to him. but he is truly aware you are capable and will not sugarcoat you (if you do not have any injury, get one as small as a paper cut and he is throwing dramatic gasps to make you laugh), but he will not hesitate to show that he is yours as much as you are his and no one can take you away from him. however, he can have his own insecurities. not look wise, come on that smirk on his face shows that he knows how pretty he is. no, it is more towards his gambling addiction and financial tendencies to spend everything without a care because of his insane luck. he knows that it might be a red flag, or you might be dragged away from him if he continues too much. you can kiss him better or show him an alternative (don’t do gacha games, please, he will know no limits at all you will worsen the problem dearest).

. all in all, you won your own little jackpot by being with him. sure, he has his own secrets and things he will probably never share with you. but at the end of the day you are both satisfied only holding each other’s hands as you dance under the stars like idiots or jump on the water that stayed in the streets after it rained. maybe you are a bit childish, or maybe you simply indulge together in what you always lacked: an innocent and pure love.

SUNDAY

. his money became yours, quite literally. need to buy a book ? here take his credit card. you want to start having weekly shopping sprees with robin ? he will make a new card just for the two of you that you can use. do not shy away from using his money, he wants you happy and he knows that sometimes only acquiring certain items you cherish will fill your heart to the brim. however, he is waiting for a small peck on the cheek and if you bought close you better make a small show for him. the two of you will end up dancing in the living room and it will end with a small kiss.

. the type to be a sucker for any type of kisses. would randomly come up to you, grab your face and kiss your forehead, your cheeks so no jealousy and then your lips. at first you were taken aback but now you are used to it and no real surprises anymore to be honest. you just melt and sometimes kiss him back when he pulls away. aha ! now he is the one with warm cheeks :P.

. he shares his food a bit too much, his plate becomes yours. not the type to give you his plate though. no, instead he will take your fork or spoon, serve enough in it and bring it to your lips. you can never deny him because of the fluttering of his wings that shows just how happy he is to do such a thing. and let’s not talk about desserts. he would buy five of them, eat one spoonful and then give you the rest. i am not hungry anymore, he says, what a very sweet liar he is. that is not his fault, do not blame him please, he just wishes to see a small smile on your face because you love them so much.

. talking about his wings, you can know his mood with how they react. a pretty useful indicator to be honest. if they are a bit down, he is sad or just tired. a few cuddles might fix the issue and if it doesn’t just massage his feathers, but be careful those little wings are still very much sensitive. if they are fluttering, then he is quite happy. weirdly enough they always flutter when you are with him. sometimes he uses them to hide his face if he is a bit flustered. he looks quite adorable when he wants to.

. also not the type to share his clothes, the only exception being his jacket if you are cold and brought nothing for yourself. unlike aventurine he is not for matching sets of clothing, he would prefer if you two kept your own style. but he is for matching jewelries and such. his favorite match is earrings. he will wear the right one most of the time as you wear the left one. his second favorite has to be necklaces. you have a pair of necklaces that go together like two puzzle pieces, and every time you cuddle you let them click together and they remain as such until you have to go to work or sleep or pee.

. being with him is like walking through a street in the middle of the light. his embrace and touches being the few people complimenting you along the way and his comfort being the warm light cast upon you. and when you fall asleep, it’s like having found your own little haven all over again. perhaps, with you, he will learn to be a bit more honest with himself over time.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

orchids¹ – they symbolize beauty, charm and love.

red roses² – they symbolize love and passion.

carnations³ – they symbolize fascination and love.

sunflowers⁴ – they symbolize admiration and loyalty.

(if any of those informations are wrong, tell me and i will fix it asap !)

TAGGING:: @amxto; @dxmoness; @sweetlyvibe; @quatrdeal

#x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n #x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr sunday #hsr sunday x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail sunday #honkai star rail aventurine #hsr aventurine #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #star rail aventurine #aventurine x you #aventurine x y/n #aventurine fluff #sunday #sunday x reader #sunday x you #sunday x y/n #renee.writes

[frmisnow]

✧˖ ?!— MEMORIES W. BF! JUNGKOOK

—🐟 ‧₊˚ — : " you are so mean !! "

summary. just a collection of fluffy (& suggestive) moments that could've been a whole fic... but didn't become one!

notes. *insert tiktok audio: did you miss us? cause we missed you* i've been wanting to write quite often since me taking a break but the weeks have been TOUGH- regardless i did rly miss all of you ;( hope you enjoy this lil bf! bf! bf! jungkook drabble headcanon-ish thing (?) as a makeup gift for me being gone!!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

warnings/includes. the most teeth-rotting boyfriend kook there is rly, two very very in love individuals!!, suggestive (making out & hickeys mentioned), drunk

✧˖ #001. A WISH 4 TATS & ALCOHOL = A MESS.

"this is a horrible idea," you mumbeled as you both stumbeled into another darkly light street, "i got this," jungkook hummed, carefully examining the road to the nearest tattoo shop google maps suggested on his phone.... which was upside down.

"jung- that's not right," shaking your head, turning his phone around, his mouth opening and closing again, "oh"

"you're so smart!" he squeezed your cheeks together, creating one big large pout, placing a quick peek right after which of course turned into the both of you manically making out, leaning back onto the graffiti-filled dirty street wall, the taste of alcohol blatantly evident.

whenever a person would walk by, jungkook would momentarily stop (still holding your face) but turning around and mouthing a quick 'sorry', doing a big ass bow to highlight his apologies- the person would just walk continue walking faster to get out of this alley (and the both of you)

you'd give him a tiny slap on the head murmuring something about him being stupid which he'd dramatically pout about (and probably kiss you to prove you 'wrong' which was just an non-sensical excuse really).

safe to say you woke up the next days with two super cheesy tattoos grazing both of your thighs and a whole lotta hickeys!

✧˖ #002. MAKE IT LIKE UR BIRTHDAY EVERYDAY!

work was shit literally. the days were tough to the point where the only thing you were looking forward to at the end of the day was seeing jungkook.

ever since your work has been loading you with more & more labour, you could tell he always tried to show up earlier than you, it was in his best efforts to greet the exhausted you, open the door with the widest smile and instantly tightly hug you.

today was no different- at least you thought, in fact it turned out that you completly forgot about your own birthday, leading to you being even more surprised when you walked in directly to an even more wider-smiling jungkook then the usual, holding about five pink ballons.

a rather... messy cake delicately placed on the desk, light-up candles grazing the very very colorful dessert, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!" he yelled out, the large grin never making it's way off his face.

"you're so old," he babbeled jokingly, the second he saw your watery eyes immediately embracing you, mumbling something about 'i didn't mean the old-thing anyway' which made you smile again.

so the night ended with the both of you eating the surpisingly well-turned-out cake together as he listened to you rant about how shitty your boss and work place was, nodding along and grinning at some of your comments.

something in his gaze was so loving and always attentive- certaintly this was one of the best birthdays you had.

✧˖ #003. YOU ARE SO MEAN!

"one more beer and i might just say you are developing an alcohol addiction," you perclaimed, taking the glass out of jungkooks hands (that were dramatically holding on for dear life) with a little bit of force, in response getting a loud noise of dissapproval from his direction.

he rested his head on the desk, eyes still open, examining you carefully, "don't say that!"

"oh i will," you bopped his nose sarcastically, your tone more sassy than serious, taking a sip of the beer that you now declared yours.

jungkooks face disappeared into his arms as fast as it was visable in the first place, a whiny mumble being heared through the hair that was in your view: "you're so mean"

you could firmly hear the pout in his voice which made you smile when you responded: "and you are very tired, let's get you to sleep"

leaving the beer on the kitchen table, you used your whole power to lift the grown man of the chair (who was now just as desperately like before fighting back), whines and tiny groans being heard through out the kitchen as you lead him to the bathroom.

"i didn't mean the mean thing by the way," he muttered almost inaudibly while brushing his teeth slowly, "no, i know" you ruffeled through his hair, wrapping your arm around his waist, the both of you looking into the mirror at the same time, the reflection making you both giggle.

"i'm never drinking with you again!"

"you don't mean that"

#bts ff #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts imagines #bts x you #bts x reader #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #kpop fluff #bts imagine #kpop ff #kpop fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #bts headcanons #jungkook headcanons

[htchnr]

♰ 'bout damn time ༻ C. HOWARD.*ೃ˚

➻ masterlist. ➻ buy me a coffee!

CW ➻ mention of being a little hungover ⋆ Cooper being rude to Lucy (as always) ⋆ lowkey lovesick Cooper ⋆ other than that not much ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

PAIRING ➻ the same reader x Cooper relationship from this drabble series!

SUMMARY ➻ after a while of travelling, seems all Lucy had to do was get rid of the Vault suit. OR, many times Cooper is nice to you, and one time he isn't mean to Lucy. WC ➻ 750~.

AUTHORS NOTE ➻ i'm taking a short break from writing! no longer than a few weeks don't worry! college finals are getting closer, plus life's getting pretty busy so i could use all the time i can get to take it easy and not over work myself. so here have a cute silly fic before i go on break 😁

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!

Lucy notices Cooper's deep care for you through both little things.

those things would include giving you the first cooked skewer of meat off a fire, (not before he takes a piece off to taste or see if it might make anyone (you) sick.) he always has you walking in front of him, then Lucy in front of you. wether he does this so he can stare at your ass all day, or to make sure he can always keep an eye on you she'll never know.

he lends you his hat from time to time, mainly when your headaches are bad or he notices you could use some cover from the harsh sun of California. Lucy's even seen Cooper lend you his duster if it's particularly cold at night. hell, he even allows you to snuggle up to him for extra warmth. she mainly thinks he allows this so he can keep better watch on you, but a small part inside her thinks that he likes the comfort of your body against his.

despite him knowing you can more than handle yourself in a fight he always puts himself first, as if to scope out any possible things that could happen and catch whatever bad things come first.

and perhaps the thing Lucy has grown to adore the most, is watching Cooper wordlessly extend a hand to you — wether you fall behind a little and he reaches to hold your hand, or to help you get up. it almost feels like she's invading something intimate and personal when she catches glimpses of the actions.

the market is loud and busy, full of people buying and selling a wide range of things. you had moved through town in the hopes for a hotel, the last bounty having paid more than enough for a few nice nights of sleep.

"hey, you need anythin'?" Cooper asks from beside you as the three of you walk through a busy market. "i'll do an extra poke 'round for whatever."

you nod, "i'm good i think," you reply, and Cooper looks at you with that 'yeah sure' look, as if to nudge you to think harder. looking down at your thin coat, you sigh, "okay.. maybe if you can find a better coat anywhere? winter's coming up and it would be very nice of you?" you smile at him, another warm autumn breeze blowing past.

he nods, scarred fingers rolling the caps around in his coat pocket. "well i would like some-" Lucy speaks up.

"zip it Vaultie, didn't ask." he huffs, raising a hand to pat your shoulder. "i'll be back," he nods to you, looking over your shoulder to give Lucy a sour, unamused look.

you nod back, "if we're not here in a bit we'll probably be back at the hotel, my feet are killing me and last night at the bar was too much," you groan, rolling your shoulders. Cooper nods, walking off.

you huff with a small smile before moving along the market stalls to peruse for more med supplies. Lucy scoffs behind you, walking up to your side. you look over to her, brows twitching with tired curiosity. "hm?" you hum, as if asking her what's up.

she shrugs, "how does he keep doing it?" she asks, her face displaying her confusion and frustration.

you shake your head, looking over at a stall. "what do you mean?"

"switching like that," she adjusts her backpack. "he's shockingly nice with you, asking you if you need anything, then when i pitch in all of that is gone and he snaps," she huffs.

you wave her off, "it's nothing personal," you reply, eyes glued to a stall selling a bunch of clothes. "well, probably anyway." you pull Lucy along with you, stopping before the stall. "you know what might lessen his snappy-ness towards you?" you turn to her, her big doe eyes blinking back at you.

"what?" she answers.

"getting rid of that Vault suit." you point to the massive crate full of clothes. "pick a few things out, i'll pay, and we'll call it a uh, little experiment, yeah?"

she thinks for a minute, the Vault suit did have it's benefits, but it was also a blaring neon sign telling people where she's from. which Lucy has learned the hard way that that's usually not beneficial anymore. she nods, hands moving to start sifting through the pile of clothes.

the sun has long since set by the time the two of you got back to the hotel. you had briefly looked around the market for Cooper, but upon not finding him you decided to just head back to the hotel. you sluggishly walked up the steps, occasionally eyeing Lucy's new clothes. it sure took some getting used to, not having that hideous Vault suit to look at.

you stepped up the final stair, walking through the short hall until you reached the door of the room you were renting. you unlocked the door, finding Cooper lounging on a chair in the corner of the room. "hey," you offer, letting Lucy walk in before closing and locking the door.

Lucy eyed Cooper as you two came it, watching for any change in his expression. yet, she got nothing.

he groans as he gets up, grabbing his hat and chucking it on the bed you and him shared. he reached for something that laid on the bed, then chucked it your way. you caught the item, moving it around in your hands — a thick coat.

you grinned, "thank you! it looks my size too!" you put on the coat, grinning as it fits almost perfectly.

he cracks a small smile, nodding. "not a problem, dollface."

Lucy looks between the two of you, watching as you take the coat off and throw it over a chair. you set down your heavy bag and pull your boots off, throwing yourself face first into the bed. god that feels good, you think to yourself.

Cooper huffs, throwing his duster over your new(ish) coat. "c'mon move those legs, else you're sleepin' on the floor." Lucy's eyes widen, he'd never, right? though the tone in his voice doesn't hold an ounce of seriousness. well, just the part where he asked you to move.

you groan into the mattress, mumbling something he can't hear. "c'mon, move it doll," he grunts as he kneels on the bed, strong, scarred hands gripping your thighs as he shoves you to one side of the bed and goes to lay down not before landing a crude slap on your ass. he rests his head against the headboard, his hat tipped forward to cover his eyes.

you let out a long, tired sigh, turning to face him. you lay beside him, hands idly fiddling with one of his belts. you lean in closer, voice hushed. "y'know," sleep lacing your voice. "managed to get her to ditch the suit, it'd be nice if you would say something,"

Cooper's hairless brows furrow as he sighs. you let out a yawn, nudging your head against his shoulder as you slowly drift asleep, hands merely resting against his hip.

Lucy always finds herself quietly observing you two, watching the little strangely affectionate gestures between you and the man who seems to have it out for her. like now, she watches him sigh deeply, before lightly shaking his head.

"hey Vaultie?"

Lucy nearly jumps at the sound of his voice, even though it's quiet as to not wake you.

"yeah?" the corners of her lips almost twitching.

"'bout damn time you got rid of it."

Lucy's lips pull into a small smile. the comment might not have meant much to anyone else, but to her it was neutral, rather than his usual hostility. and she'll take any win, no matter how small.

TAGLIST ; @live-logs-and-proper @looonytooons @seeingstarks @thewastelandwriter @lacey-mercylercy @marina-and-the-memes @p4rsuade @anonymous-creep @likoplays @iceviolet11 @https-junebug @silverose365 @athanza @songbirdemerald-blog @justt-myth @looneylooomis @v3lv3tf0x @keyofgigi

#⋆୨🩷©2024 htchnr #⋆୨⭐️cooper howard #cooper howard x fem!reader #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard oneshot #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul oneshot #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #walton goggins #walton ghoulgins

[midnightcrw]

Provocative

Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader

Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.

Warnings: Swearing

a/n: I know it's been a long time, but I just couldn't get myself to write anything because of my finals coming up and everything else going on. I also didn't want to write a bad third part, so I only wanted to write when I had some motivation to do so. I hope you all will like it. Part 1 / Part 2

If you had known that one day you would see Mimzy again, you would have been the most holy person in your mortal days, and unfortunately, you weren't.

And as soon as everyone in the hotel registered the short woman's appearance, Lucifer dropped his grip on your hand, looking almost fearfully at your expression, which probably said more than a thousand words.

"Why is everybody gawking? Is it cuz I'm adorable?" The woman playfully said while posing as you gritted your teeth.

And not even a second later, Alastor immediately stopped holding your hand, "Mimzy!" The happiness was more than obvious in his tone.

"Alastor, sweetie, doll face!" In your mind you were already imagining how you could break every bone in her body. "How have you been? Good? Good," she said as she put her arms around your husband.

They even squeezed each other as they made contented sounds. "You good?" Lucifer whispered in your ear as you could almost feel your eye twitch.

"Splendid," you murmured back as the Ruler of Hell continued to look at you uncertainly, but your eyes never left the pair.

"I heard you were staying at this ritzy slob factory and I figured I'd stop by, say hi! For old times sake" you hated the way she talked about Charlie's hotel as the blonde walked even closer to Alastor, if that was even possible.

"Of course, Sweetheart! Everyone is welcome here" the enthusiasm still didn't leave your husband's voice as you balled your fists tightly.

"'Everyone is welcome' my ass," Lucifer muttered hatefully, squinting his eyes at the man dressed in red.

When Charlie asked how they knew each other, you tried to hold back as best you could, you knew what was coming.

And the moment Mimzy heard the question, an even bigger smile appeared on her face "Oh yeah. We go way back."

A little too far back, you thought.

"You know, this one used to frequent the club where I used to perform. He's the only one I knew who could pound whiskey like a sailor and then keep up with me on the dance floor," her theatrics continued as she did a little dance and received a compliment from Alastor.

"Ho ho, you should have seen her in her heyday," oh, how you wished you hadn't seen her then.

You remembered everything perfectly. Mimzy and Alastor knew each other before you married him, and you met her through him.

Alastor was always a huge fan of music, especially the music that was played at the club where Mimzy used to work. And one day he had had taken you out on a date. Of course you were excited at first, you had never been to that club before, you were expecting something spectacular since your husband was always talking about it.

And oh, how spectacular it was, Mimzy practically throwing herself at your husband like it was nothing. Now, you really weren't a jealous person, but the short woman brought out the worst in you.

At first you really tried to like her, but with every backhanded compliment, you began to truly despise her more and more.

It was obvious that she had a crush on Alastor, and that crush probably never really went away, or she just wanted to get you mad by sticking to him like glue.

"Oh, oh, my stars," she made her way to Lucifer as soon as she saw him, and you immediately made your way to Alastor while she was distracted.

"You never told me she was here," you said in a snippy tone as you approached him until you and him were face to face, just with you having to look up due to his height.

"My sweet, of course Mimzy would be in hell," he only said as he looked at the chubby woman who was currently engrossed in a conversation Lucifer had no interest in.

Before you could snap at him, the annoying voice was heard once more, "No way!" Mimzy shouted loudly as she made her way towards you, deliberately swaying her hips.

And before you could prepare, the short woman hugged you tightly as she stood on her tiptoes to lean closer to you, "Still the jealous little wench, I see," she snickered as you bit your tongue.

"Ah, just like old days," Alastor's smile still remained on his face as he looked at the two of you, obviously not having heard what his friend had just said to you.

I'll show you the old days, you thought when Mimzy finally let go of you. And then you all remembered that the tour of the hotel had to continue.

"Why don't you let the others help you settle in and I'll be back before you know it," your husband said to Mimzy as he took your hand and led you to Charlie and her dad.

"Behave," Alastor whispered in your ear as his static returned and you could only scoff.

"I'm the one who should behave?! Look at you!" You whispered back, even digging your nails into the hand that was currently holding yours.

And while the tension between the two of you didn't go away, Mimzy already started talking to the others at the bar.

"How ya been, fur-ball?" She asked as she leaned her elbows against the bar, holding her face up with her hands.

"Good until five minutes ago" Husk wasn't happy about the whole situation, just like you, and it was obvious, and clearly ignoring his mood, she turned around to ask what Niffty has been up to.

"I never understood why you liked her so much," you said, keeping the frown on your face as Alastor let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your waist while Lucifer glared at him as Charlie showed him around.

"Jealous, aren't you?" He asked with his piercing smile, having already expected this reaction from you.

"She's the last person I would be jealous of," you snapped back, but in reality you knew she was everything you were ever jealous of.

Not only was she popular, but she was beautiful and confident. All the things you couldn't see for yourself.

Suddenly, Alastor laughed, even softly, I might add, as his hand rubbed your hip, "As it should be, you have nothing to be jealous of, love," your eyes widened.

He has never called you "love" before, unless it was to get attention or to make your marriage more believable decades ago.

"Uh-huh... Thanks, pussy cat!" Mimzy said as she drank from the glass.

"Oh, fuck you" was the only thing Husk replied with as he walked away while Angel Dust made his way to the bar.

"So uh, you and Alastor are like what? Friends?"

A grin made its way across her face, "Well, that's your word, not mine, but I think it fits," Angel Dust didn't seem too convinced as he sipped from his glass, which didn't seem to make Mimzy too happy.

"Why so surprised?" She grunted as Angel Dust responded with "Well, just didn't know he had any of those. He's been here a while and is still a big, creepy mystery. I really don't know how his his wife handles him. What even is his deal?"

At the mention of you, her face fell for a split second, but she regained her composure as she began to tell them about when Alastor revealed himself as the Radio Demon.

"But underneath is all... he's a total sweetie. Put on some jazz and pour a couple fingers of rye, and he becomes a kitten!"

Sir Pentious and Angel Dust looked at her in shock, since that part didn't sound like the Overlord they knew.

And once the tour was over and they made their way back to the bar.

"There you all are! I was starting to get real bored here," Mimzy's voice was slowly starting to make you mad once more.

"Finally," Husk grunted as he wiped the glass in his hands clean while Mimzy continued to talk.

"I bet she was the reason it took so long," obviously referring to you as she glared, "Nothing's been the same since the marriage," the short woman ranted, while you rolled your eyes at her as you suddenly felt Alastor's hand graze your back.

Looking up at him, his eyes were a fraction softer for once, as you couldn't look away.

"Since the marriage?" Lucifer asked, clearly confused as to what was being discussed.

"Their marriage, of course," Mimzy said with disgust in her voice as she nodded towards you and Alastor.

"You're married?!" Lucifer yelled as you flinched at the sudden loudness, while Alastor rubbed your arm in reassurance.

Fuck... you thought.

Taglist

@l0ca1ax010t1

@itsmskeisha

@nightlydream

@randomuser-89

@explosionkatsu

@nonetheartist

@anuttellaa

@angelxx7

@karolinda007-blog

@fairyv-ice

@chewbrry

@cryptidghostgirl

@harmfulb1tch

@crowleysthings

@fandomfan-102

@readergirlstuff

@wendds

@lucifers-silhouette

@droopingdatura

#alastor fluff #alastor x you #alastor imagine #alastor fanfiction #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel x y/n

[upsidedownwithsteve]

A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.7K]

THE TIMELINE

"There was something 'bout you that now I can't remember, It's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender. And I miss you on a train, I miss you in the morning, I never know what to think about. I think about you."

- About You By The 1975

V. HAWKINS, INDIANA: 1988

Two years had passed since the last gate had closed and despite the aftermath of the “earthquakes,” Vecna had yet to make any sort of reappearance. 

Max’s bones healed, eventually, and she regained most of her sight, relying on thick lensed glasses when she grew tired or the words in her books turned blurry. Nancy went to college, Jonathan tried it for a year, Hopper took El on a month-long camping trip to see something other than the town repairing itself and Lucas went to therapy. 

Soon, each kid followed suit, attending sessions that eventually helped them sleep a little better because even though they couldn’t tell the person on the other side of the coffee table about monsters and the world under their feet, there had been enough death and suffering to fill the hour with regardless. 

Dustin told Steve he should go too and Robin agreed. After Eddie’s funeral, the one where they all stood with Wayne, a guy from the garage Eddie worked at on weekends and the remaining Hellfire members beside a small gravestone, they had another one. 

A second ceremony near the woods behind Eddie’s trailer, close to where he died, to where Dustin had found him bleeding and proud. The kids cried and Joyce held on tight to Will while Jonathan hugged Nancy and Dustin punched a tree trunk. It felt better than the first one, easier somehow, when they didn’t have to lie and hide the guilt they had at knowing each and every one of them felt a little shame in having a hand in someone’s else’s death. 

But it was closure. 

The town healed, roads were repaired, houses rebuilt, new flowers planted in the park in memory of those who had been lost in the accident - the natural disaster that made headlines, the one that no one could have predicted. 

Steve helped Dustin clean Eddie’s grave when the spray paint covered the dead boy’s name. Robin stopped crying when she looked in the mirror each morning. Jonathan left his room. 

The kids got better. They smiled more, went to the new arcade on opening day, shared slushies and rode their bikes around town again. Joyce visited Wayne when she could, took him pies and meatloaf and eventually got him out of his armchair and into a coffee shop for a full hour. Hopper got his job back, had a ceremony that preceded the funeral he had years before and Robin managed to get her and Steve a sweet gig at the record store that replaced Family Video. 

It felt fresh. New. Clean. 

So why was Steve still dreaming about gates?

For the third night in a row, he woke up gasping. A yell stuck in his throat that tasted like metal, like blood, and he was drenched. Shirtless, his sheets stuck to his chest, the weight of them tangled around his legs in a sickly familiar way, vines tugging at his ankles. His room was dark, the house empty, too quiet. Quiet enough that his breath ripped from his lungs in harsh pants, his head pounding from the exertion of running in his dream, back in a place that he hadn’t seen in almost twenty one months. 

At first, he dreamt of death. 

Of Eddie and how they found him lifeless and in Dustin’s arms. How Max was barely conscious in the attic of the Creel House, her body broken in ways that no doctor could understand. He dreamt of how he had pulled Lucas away from her, the boy sobbing and yelling, fighting with more strength than he knew he had as Steve tried to restrain him just enough for the paramedics to get Max into the ambulance. 

Then the dreams turned empty. He dreamt of losing everyone, Robin, Dustin, Hop. El was gone, Will too, Mike nowhere to be found. Nancy’s house was empty, Joyce and Jonathan didn’t exist and Steve sat alone in a town that turned grey, crumbling to dust until the vines came back and the clouds turned red. 

He ran miles every night, searching for his friends, his family. Woke up to shaking breaths and sore legs like he’d really sprinted across a town that was no longer home and each morning when the sun rose, he sat with a coffee and his bare legs dipped in the pool in his backyard. He stared at the water until the ripples blurred and wondered how long it would take for Barb to come haunt him too, if she’d reappear in his dreams despite the years that had gone by, if she’d come crawling back out of his pool like she used to, dripping wet and with no eyes. 

But Barb never came and he stopped dreaming of the kids, stopped hearing Lucas’ screams, stopped seeing Max in a hospital bed with blood coming from her eyes and eventually, one night, he dreamt of a gate that he’d never seen before. 

It didn’t even really look like a gate. 

Not the ones Steve knew. It wasn’t framed by dead vines, it didn’t pulsate, it didn’t have a red glow coming from its innards. This one didn’t look like rotting flesh, like a wound in the earth that couldn’t be healed. This one wasn’t at the bottom of a lake, lined with wet moss and cracked rocks, it wasn’t in the Munson trailer nor in the middle of the woods. 

This one opened on a blank wall in Steve’s bedroom, replacing the shelves where his old basketball trophies sat, where he usually left his pile of clothes before falling into bed. In the dream, it started as a crack, a crumbling of plaster and blue plaid wallpaper and Steve watched it open, a yawning thing that split the room and bathed it in light. It was too bright at first, like blinking into a summer sun. And once the white-hot of it cleared from Steve’s eyes, he saw blue skies and he could smell the ocean. 

There were trees he’d never seen before in real life, something out of a movie, tall and green and narrow as they swayed in a breeze he couldn’t really feel from his spot on his bedroom carpet. The buildings were a pinky-peach colour, like clay, with orange slate tiles and there were foundations and statues carved into the walls, water trickling from the mouths of gods and vases that stone faced women held in their marble arms. 

It was like looking at a painting, a canvas between his bed and his old desk, framed with olive branches and large, red fruits that protruded from the gates mouth. 

Pomegranates. 

Steve could smell them, a sweetness that mixed with the ocean air, a kind of freshness that you couldn’t find between the fields and farms that surrounded Hawkins. In the dream, he wanted to move closer but found that he couldn’t, his eyes wide and his bare feet rooted to the spot as he stared at the scene. It felt like a memory the more he looked, the buildings becoming familiar, a baby blue door that looked like somewhere he’d once owned the keys to and the cobbled streets became a well walked way home. 

Then, as if he weren’t supposed to really see it, he spotted something move in an upstairs window. Two houses from the front of the gate, with rusted shutters and white linen curtains, he saw a girl stand between them. 

A pretty girl, with eyes he knew he’d seen before, in a white dress that he was sure he remembered the feeling of. 

The sight of her made Steve’s heart hammer, the dream making him dizzy, the realisation that he knew that girl making the line between unconsciousness and reality a little blurry. He didn’t know her name, or where he knew her from. He didn’t even know where he was looking or why the gate was there. 

But he stared and stared until the girls eyes met his and before he could lift his hand, or even try to speak, there was a crack that seemingly came from the sky - the one above Hawkins or the one inside the gate, he didn’t know - but something flashed, the gate went dark and the rip in his bedroom wall stitched itself back up. 

He woke up feeling like he’d remembered and forgotten something all at once. Like a book he’d read back in middle school, a photo he’d once misplaced, a song he hadn’t heard in years but still remebered some of the words too. 

He knew her. He knew her. 

Steve thought about the girl so much, so often, that it didn’t take him long to think of her, to refer to her, as you. You were someone he’d once known, from a memory or another dream, he wasn't sure. It was the same feeling as watching a movie and seeing a pretty actress on screen, in a different outfit with different hair but knowing her face and wondering what show he’d seen her in before. 

Except with this, there was an aching want that buried itself in his chest at the sight of you, an awful feeling that grew larger each night. And every time his wall cracked open again, it seemed like his ribs did too. A crushing feeling, a yawning expanse inside his body that made room for the way his heart seemed to grow and grow at the sight of you. 

Yearning, that’s what he thought it was. A slow, burning build of it. 

The second night, he dreamt of you in a garden. A sprawling, green lawn with a pond so green-blue it made his eyes hurt. There was an awning beside it, a pergola of sorts made of white stone and it had ivy growing between the pillars, covering the roof and reaching down to trail its flowers in the water below. You were closer than before, than you were in the window, and Steve could see the way your lashes hit your cheeks as you looked down, stitching something that you held in your lap. 

There was a wicker basket beside you, a loaf of fresh bread wrapped in a cloth and he could still smell pomegranates, sweet and tart. There was a space beside you on the blanket, enough room for two but no one else came. 

You were always alone. 

Steve tried to talk to you, to reach out and see if this gate worked like the others, if he could walk through into this other world, this other dimension, but it didn’t work. 

Not yet, anyway. 

You seemed to notice him more on the fifth night, as he watched you walk along the edge of a lake. Your hair was shorter now and your clothes had changed. They look more modern, more like his, the cabins behind you reminiscent of a summer camp, a holiday lodge or something. He could hear music, a song he swore he heard on the radio not too long ago and that night, you watched him back. 

It seemed like you were waiting for someone. And when Steve saw your face light up with a smile, his heart stumbled. You raised your arm, reaching out a hand to the edge of the gate, off to the side as if someone else was in Steve’s walls. He saw another hand reach for yours, larger, definitely male, with a freckle where the thumb joined the palm. 

The jealousy he felt was unmatched, a burning thing that scorched his chest and his throat, hot needles at the back of his mouth. Before the man came into view, the crack in his wall trembled and the gate stitched itself closed once more, leaving plaster dust and flakes of paint on his carpet. 

Apart from the small mess, no one would have ever guessed another world opened up inside of Steve Harrington’s bedroom each night. 

It took him a week and half to notice his hand had a freckle in the same spot. A small beauty mark he’d never really paid attention to before, painted in the space that joined his thumb to his hand. He tried not to read too much into it, tried not to hold onto the hope that maybe it meant something - because none of this made sense, not really. 

They were just dreams. Strange things, brain scrambling things. But it was a welcome reprieve from death and darkness and vines that held onto him too tight. He no longer woke up in a cold sweat, he no longer wished for morning to come, no matter how tired he felt when he opened his eyes. 

Steve wondered if anyone else was experiencing these kinds of dreams. If the rest of the party were getting glimpses of other worlds, other timelines. He wasn’t sure what they were, too scared to ask, too afraid to make everyone else worry. The thought that these dreams could be a trick crossed his mind more than once, a new tactic from Vecna, an infiltration of his sleep that was meant to lull him into some kind of false sense of security. 

Safety - an unknown feeling. 

But everyone else spent their days talking about school and their new bosses, the fair that was coming to town to celebrate the town hall finally being rebuilt. No one mentioned Vecna or dreams or gates or girls they knew from somewhere they couldn’t place. 

So Steve accepted the fact that whatever these dreams were - whatever they meant - they were just for him. Which meant that you were his too. 

Weeks went by with Steve viewing you from the split in his wall, sometimes hearing music, sometimes hearing your muffled voice. Never real words, never loud enough to hear and it didn’t seem like you could hear him either. But Steve watched, enraptured, following you around different parts of the world, new countries and scenes that he could never really place but, oh my god, each one felt like home with you in it. 

Then one night, he saw himself. 

He felt the surge of panic flood him even in his sleep, his body jolting against his bed as he saw the familiar face, staring back at him, nonplussed. He looked a little different, maybe older. His hair was shorter at the back, cropped closer to the nape of his neck but the biggest difference was how happy he looked. 

This Steve, the one in his dream, inside this gate - this Steve from another time, another life - he looked lighter. He didn’t have purple smudges under his eyes, no deep lines settling across his forehead from frowning so much. His clothes were different too, looser, less fitting, the colours more muted. He wore a pair of jeans that looked much more comfortable than his tight Levi’s, a soft burgundy sweater that had the sleeves rolled up. 

Steve didn’t recognise where this dream took place, but he knew it wasn’t Hawkins. America, yeah, the street signs and licence plates on the cars in the street giving that detail away, but he wasn’t too sure where. The buildings were bigger, shinier, more glass than brick but the skies were still blue and it looked peaceful, warm. 

Safe. 

Dream Steve strolled down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets, looking back over his shoulder every now and then as if to make sure the real Steve was following him. He walked past storefronts and stopped to pet a dog, a golden retriever who was waiting for his owner outside of a bakery. When he came to a bookstore, Steve could see a large building in the distance, a huge billboard atop it that looked like it was advertising a new movie, or a show maybe. It didn’t have much details on it, no actors nor dates to tell what year this was supposed to be. 

Certainly not 1988. 

It only had lettering across it, big and bold and red against a pristine white background: “ANOTHER LIFE.”

The bell to the bookstore jingled and then Steve saw you. As pretty as you had been in every other gate, every other world, every other lifetime. Like a figurine inside a snow globe, like something from a fairytale. Steve had never seen you this close before. 

He watched your smile, the way it widened at the sight of his counterpart, this other version of him. You were so pretty that his breath got caught in his lungs, his sleeping body kicking out in shock when you lunged at the dream version of him, throwing your arms around his shoulders in greeting. 

Steve watched the two figures embrace on the street, he watched how this luckier man got to bring his hand to your cheek and hold to there to kiss, how his lips - Steve’s own lips - met your own and parted them, mouths melting together in something that was so much more than a quick hello. 

Steve didn’t have it in him to feel jealous then. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to. He watched the hand that held your jaw, the thumb that caressed your cheekbone as you grinned into him, your own hands clutching his waist now. There was a freckle, the same as the one he had on his own hand, in the matching spot on yours. This Steve took that hand and kissed that very mark, smacking kisses across your palm and up your wrist until you were laughing, head thrown back, eyes bright. 

Steve hadn’t seen anything so happy. 

He woke up before the dream finished, before the gate closed. Steve woke up with tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, his vision blurry in the navy gloom of his bedroom. It wasn’t yet morning. There was no gate on his bedroom fall, no new city between the plaid striped wallpaper. 

He thought it could’ve been Chicago, maybe New York. Perhaps Philadelphia. 

He wondered if he left and went looking for that bookstore, that street, that billboard, he’d find you too. If he was supposed to, if you were real, if this life was all he was supposed to get. 

Something told him otherwise, that open crack inside his chest that made him ache for hours after he awoke. He never forgot about you during the day, each life he’d watched you live, how you had grown your hair out and then cut it, how you seemed to change your clothing depending on where you were, from old petticoats to jeans and shirts with logos on them he’d never seen before. 

Steve felt like he’d lived a thousand lives with you. 

He wasn’t sure what he had to do to get you in this one. 

After two weeks of dreaming of this life with you, one that he was so sure would happen, he spoke to Joyce. He waited until the kids dragged Hopper out into the yard to help them with some sort of rocket they wanted to make and he found her in the kitchen. It was the closest kind of feeling he had to home - bar from the sight of you, but he wasn’t really sure if that counted when he was asleep. 

So he tried to sound casual when he leaned over the Byers kitchen counter, elbows avoiding the jelly stains that Mike had left after making a sandwich, and asked, “hey, uh, do you believe in soulmates?”

Joyce blinked at him, flour and butter between her fingers as she tried to turn the page in her recipe book back to the instructions for apple pie. The book flopped shut when she let go, her hands reaching for a rag instead. Her eyes never left Steve’s. 

“Uh, well. I guess so,” she paused, head tilted to the side as she watched the younger man, how his cheeks turned pink and his gaze fell to the floor. “I haven’t thought about it all that much. Why’d you ask?”

Steve didn’t know what to say then. So he floundered, flushed in the face and nose scrunched as he ran his fingers through his hair too harshly, hoping that no one else walked in. What was he supposed to say? That he was dreaming of gates in his bedroom walls? But it was okay? ‘Cause these ones didn’t have monsters or creatures set out to kill him, no, these gates held something that he thought he’d once had, that they held something he was so sure he was supposed ot have again?

Maybe, just not in this life.

Maybe, this time, something was broken. Wires were crossed, cut, unravelled. Maybe the upside down messed up a timeline, maybe it ripped apart whatever plan it had originally laid out for Steve Harrington. 

He didn’t know. But he knew it sounded crazy, even in his head.

So he shrugged and said, “no reason.”

And then that night, after Joyce gave him funny looks over the dinner she served him and the rest of his friends, the kitchen table full, he went home and lay on his bed, hardly bothering to pull the sheets over his bare chest.

He counted his breaths, hoped for sleep and wished for you.

Like always, his room grew darker, his lids heavier and the crack in his bedroom wall crumbled and split until the dust settled and he saw your face. You were alone this time, pretty as ever and in the same looking city he’d last seen himself in. The skies were blue behind you, the buildings still tall and shiny looking, all glass window panes and metal framework. If he concentrated enough, he could smell summer.

Hot tarmac and sunscreen, fresh fruit from one of the stores behind you, tart lemons and freshly ground coffee. 

You were looking right at him and even in his sleep, Steve smiled. Your eyes were pretty, too pretty, the colour bright and your gaze excited as you gazed at him. Like you’d been waiting. You held out a hand, coaxing, kind, soft, patient. And for the first time, when Steve reached out too, his hand slipped through the gate. 

He was right, about the season, about it being summer. The air inside this world was warm on his skin, like the sun was on him despite being sprawled out in the blue gloom of his dark bedroom. It felt like a July morning, right before the heat hit. 

He was almost touching your fingers when he woke up alone again.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington au

[ghostlyferrettarot]

♥︎Pick a picture:💎✨️Everything about your next partner✨️💎

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

💫If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!💫

💎Masterlist💎

💎Pile 1: 10 of Cups, Ace of Wands and Ace of Cups.

Hi pile 1! Your next partner is someone fun and reliable, I sense a lot of air signs energy from them, they know how to be serious but also fun! I see someone taller than you and with curly hair; i keep hearing people laughing so he probably has a really good sense of humor.

You two will bond over similar interest and also humor, i see them making you laugh a lot which is really cute. This person is really focus when it comes to their job/career, and you may meet them in a work/academic environment; they are really smart when it comes to what they do and value their time also. This person is someone non judmental when it comes to others, they are on the more out going side and likes to get along with everyone; i see that they are this way because others may have judged them in the past.

Theres a lot of duality in your person, i feel that they have a balanced femenine and masculine energy, they are in touch with their emotions and wont play around when it comes to a romantic connection. They will be really dedicated towards you, a trully loving energy; they want to be the one to be with you in your good and bad days, theres something about sharing memories and spending time with you that they really value and love, i keep hearing "you are the light of my life".

💎Signs: Air signs, glasses, blue, autum and winter season, winter holidays.

🪩Channeled Song:

💎Pile 2: Knight of Wands, The Emperor and 4 of Swords.

Hi pile 2! I see that this person is someone who is not the relationship type, they are more focused on other aspects of their life, but you will change this for them! They have a fast energy, always setting new goals in their lifes. Because of this, they probably have the romantic aspect of their life quiet down; but when they meet you is like an instant spark for them. They will try to approach you and get to know you, their energy is dominant. Dark hair is really prominent, as well as longish hair and jewerly, i also see tattos on the hands and arms.

I feel like when both of you meet will be like a divine scenario, like it was meant to be, maybe you also resonate to be more focused on other aspects of you life instead of the romantic one. I don't know how to explain but this trully feels like a divine meeting, everything fell into place in order for you to meet, i heard "we almost missed eachother". I also see a rainy scenario so maybe the day you meet is on a rainy day.

Both of you will grow together, it will be a serious connection and you will feel really secure with them, maybe even doing long terms changes with them like moving or adopting a pet. You bring another side of them, the most loving and caring one; i'm hearing that you are their one and only, is like you could get anything out of them with just a look from your pretty eyes (their words pile 2🥹).

I trully see this as a long lasting connection; also this person family/friends will really love the relationship, it feels like you bring out the more fun side of them, you ground them somehow.

💎Signs: Earth signs, dark colors, mid lenght hair, cats, piercings.

🪩Channelled Song:

💎Pile 3: 4 of Wands, Ace of Swords and The Fool.

Hi pile 3! I feel like this will be a ying and yang type of connection. You two may be seem really different but are actually more alike that what others thinks. This will be a very healing relationship, if you have had bad romantic experiences in the past, this person is coming to help you heal and evolve together. I keep hearing "Ill be you safe space", which is really beautiful; you will feel really comfortable with them. I see someone with brownish hair, they may have dimples and a really pretty smile.

This persons energy is a really kind and soft one, they may be the type of person who always seems relax and tries to see the positive side of life; maybe they do charity work or its involved in a career that requieres to connect/be in touch with a lot of people.

I see that you two will travel a lot together and would potentially build a home too; i feel that non of you will rush into the relationship, both will build a solid friendship and then will start developing a romantic connection, trully taking your time to get to know eachother. I am getting a Colin and Penelope from Britgerton type of vibe. I see that both of you will enjoy spending time together around the house, watching movies or cooking, so if you are a home buddy type of person, your person is too! I see cute dates in the park, but specially long conversations and bonding, i feel like you would be eachothers favorite person.

💎Signs: Earth/ Water placements, Green, Spring season, City, Brown hair, green eyes.

🪩Channeled Song:

💎Thanks for reading and tell

me if it resonated💎

#tarot witch #tarot spread #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarotblr #tarot tumblr #tarot community #tarot #tarot and astrology #pac reading #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick a pile #pick a card #pick one #pick an image #future spouse reading #astrology placements #zodiac #astro community #astrology #astro blog #astro notes #astro observations #astro news #paid tarot readings #paid services #pac #love tarot reading #tarotcommunity

[munson-blurbs]

Hehe for since you asked for fluffy smut, what if reader has had a long day at work and Eddie maybe fixes a bubble bath and they take one together, but then it gets a lil frisky

Is this more smut than fluff? Yes. Am I apologizing for it? Nope.

Collab with @corroded-hellfire who is once again the only reason there's any fluff at all.

CW: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), roommate!Eddie, accidental boners, grinding, lots and lots of touching, mention of oral (f) WC: 1.9k

Home might have been a tiny, two-bedroom apartment that perched above the heart of Hawkins, but at the end of a long shift, it’s Heaven. 

You kick off your shoes; apparently they’re one of the most supportive brands, according to the other waitresses, but your feet still ache. 

The throbbing in your feet is nothing compared to the roaring pain that inflames your lower back. Just pressing the heel of your palms into it makes you wince and groan. 

“You okay?” Eddie calls from his room. You hear him fumbling to put away his guitar before you can even reply. 

The door swings open and he stands there, posture sagging when he sees how beaten down you look. Whatever makeup you had applied that afternoon had long faded, and the stains on your apron certainly added the finishing touch. 

Eddie, meanwhile, is refreshed—infuriatingly so. Today was his day off, and though he put in a lot of work the other six days of the week, you still yearned for the well-restedness that had him bounding over to you. 

“Bubble bath?” When you two had first moved in together, he used to try and talk to you about your day. He took it personally when you retreated to your room without glancing in his direction. But now he knew that you talk when you regain your energy. And there’s no shortage of gossip after eight hours at Benny’s. 

You nod, offering him as much of a grateful smile as you can muster. “That would be great.” You weren’t sure how you managed to find a great friend like Eddie, but you weren’t about to question it, either. 

None of the guys you’d actually dated had ever been so understanding. But Eddie…he managed to always know what you needed. 

He offers you one of his signature grins that always brighten your day and heads down the hall to the bathroom. You take off your name tag when the loud gush of the tub faucet reaches your ears and you barely have time to yank your socks off before Eddie’s back in your doorway. 

“Your spa awaits,” he says. “I would’ve prepared you some music but I don’t think any of my metal cassettes have the ambiance you’re looking for right now.”

You shake your head as you pass by him and step towards the bathroom door. 

“Not really,”  you agree. “I’ll let you know if I need it for some inspiration working out or welding or something.”

Eddie huffs a laugh and slips his hands into the back pockets of his black jeans.

“Wasn’t that Flashdance?”

“Yeah, but that music wasn’t my thing,” you admit with a shrug before you step into the bathroom. The door clicks behind you as it closes and you’re immediately shedding the stained, greasy uniform you’ve been dying to ditch all day. 

A trail of clothing is left in your wake as you step up to the tub, the bubbles fizzing and giving off a calming jasmine scent. Not wanting to scald your skin as the cherry on top of this already grueling day, you slip your hand into the water to test the temperature. It’s perfect. You don’t know how Eddie does it; he must have the magic touch. 

The water, the bubbles, the scent, it’s all too inviting. You lift one leg over the side of the tub and climb in, quickly bringing the other in as well. In your haste to start your relaxation, you slip a bit as you begin to sit down. Instinct has you catching yourself on the sides of the tub almost instantly, but it causes the collection of soap, shampoo, and conditioner bottles to tumble onto the floor in a large heap. You stare at the pile for a moment.

“Ah, I’ll deal with you later,” you decide under your breath and sink further down into the warmth waiting to heal you from your long day. 

The bubbles tickle your skin as they gradually make their way higher. They stop around your breasts and the warm water wraps itself around every achy muscle in your body. 

Suddenly, the bathroom door busts open, a frazzled Eddie charging in with wide, concerned eyes. He’s only in a Corroded Coffin t-shirt and boxers now, so maybe the loud bang woke him from a nap. 

“I-Is everything okay?” he asks as he eyes the pile of bottles on the floor.

“Oh yeah, I just knocked those over when I got in,” you explain. 

Eddie breathes a sigh of relief but the moment his eyes land on you, his body tenses up even worse than before. He’s clearly trying not to stare at you—especially your chest—but he’s failing miserably. You look down to find that your roommate has a pretty good view of the tops of your boobs. 

When you look back to Eddie, you get a pretty nice view yourself. Since he’s only wearing boxers on his lower half, his boner is quite evident. 

A smug sense of satisfaction settles over you, even seeing how uncomfortable Eddie seems to be at getting caught. But you’re not going to tease him or make him feel bad about anything. On the contrary, you’ve thought of yet another way he can help you relax. 

“Do you wanna join?” you purr. 

When Eddie looks your way you give him the most innocent, wide eyed look you can manage and flutter your lashes a few times. 

Worry blooms within you when he doesn’t immediately respond. 

Did I overstep? Is he completely freaked out? Oh my god, what if his boner was completely unrelated to me and I just assumed—

His voice, smaller than you’ve ever heard it, interrupts your thoughts. “Mhm, yeah. I mean, if that’s cool with you.”

You nod, watching as he peels off his shirt and tosses it aside, exposing the soft tendrils of hair across his chest. There’s a tattoo on one pec; you want him, need him closer so you can run your tongue over it. 

He sheds his boxers next. Though you knew he was big just from seeing the bulge behind the fabric, nothing prepared you to see him fully on display. The reddish-pink tip leaks pre-cum as the shaft bobs in desperate search for the warmth of a body. 

“Where should I…” He’s gained a bit of confidence from the way you stare unabashedly at his naked body, but he’s still hesitant to push his luck too far. 

Scooting forward, you gesture to the now empty space behind you. Nerves buzz throughout your naked body —now wet in more ways than one. 

Eddie swings a leg over the edge of the tub, getting his balance before bringing the other to join. The way he places his hands on your shoulders results in an electricity that you can only hope he feels as well. 

His lower body disappears beneath the bubbles and he lets out a relaxed groan. You lean back until your head rests on his chest, his considerable length pressing against your lower back. 

“Sweetheart,” he whispers. Whether he means to speak that softly or he can’t manage anything louder, you can’t be sure. “Be careful.”

“Careful?”

He nods, lips grazing the shell of your ear. He’s so close to you, and yet he’s still too far away. “You’re so fucking tempting like this.”

You shift slightly, enough to see the blush in his cheeks that you know isn’t from the steamy bath. “Maybe I want you to be tempted.”

One tattooed arm snakes around your waist, fingers trailing upwards and stopped just shy of your breasts. 

“Don’t tease me,” he begs. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it.”

You take his hand and place it on your left breast. He whimpers, and you swear you could climax from the sound alone. 

Water sloshes around the tub as he hooks his legs around yours, gathering the stability he needs. 

“Fuck…” His hips move as he ruts up against you, desperate for relief. The way he pinches your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, starkly contrasts the gentle kisses he leaves on your shoulder blades. 

You want him. You need him. 

His other hand lays in the water and you guide it between your legs, now spread in anticipation of his touch. 

“There?” He asks as he finds your clit, rubbing it when you nod in the affirmative. 

Eddie increases his pace, fingers working in tandem to bring you pleasure. You arch your back, exposing your neck for him to bite and suck. 

“When we’re done,” he murmurs, “I want you splayed out on the bed for me. I need to see if your pussy is as pretty as I’ve imagined.”

His words awaken something within you. “Y-You imagine me…?” You start, unable to finish your sentence. 

Eddie nods. “Every time I jerk off, Sweetheart, I imagine being inside you. How you’d feel around my cock—mmph, fuck.”

“I picture you, too,” you confess. “Your fingers, or your cock, or—”

He raises a brow. “Or?”

“Or your mouth.” The admission spills from your lips. 

“Yeah? You want me to eat that pretty little pussy of yours?” Your own desire for him amps up his confidence. He’s impossibly and impressively hard, and you would do anything for him to stretch you out. 

You nod. “Please.”

“Okay, Sweetheart. Soon as we’re done here, yeah?” His breath hitches, his rutting becoming sloppier and needier as he nears orgasm. 

Bubbly waves crest over the side of the tub, drenching the bathmat and flooding the tile floor, but neither of you care. 

“Eds, little more, I’m gonna…” 

He follows your every order, your pussy clenching around nothing as he takes care of your clit. 

“Wanna make you feel good.” Eddie kisses your shoulder again. “Please let me make you feel good.”

You can only offer a moan as you come, chanting his name over and over. It’s a name you only ever dreamed about chanting so loudly; it was usually relegated to quiet whispers alone in your room. 

A new warmth, different from the bathwater, coats your lower back and drips down to your ass when Eddie finishes, the hand on your breast squeezing tight, pain and pleasure intermingling harmoniously. 

“Oh my god,” he pants. “That was…”

“Amazing.”

Eddie nods. “So fuckin’ amazing.” 

He lifts a bubble-covered hand to your chin, tilting it slightly so he can kiss you. His lips are soft but move with determination, his tongue sliding between yours. You let him in, your fingers playing with the wet tips of his hair. 

“Meant what I said about eating you out,” he mumbles into your mouth before stealing another kiss. 

Splayed out on the bed. His to ravish. The thought has you lunging for the towel hanging behind the door in an attempt to dry off. 

But when you stand, Eddie reaches out his hand and pulls you towards him, now eye-level with your pussy. “Knew she was perfect,” he says with a smirk. “Bet she tastes even better.”

The kiss he presses to your folds nearly buckled your knees. 

“You wanna find out?” He nods eagerly, and you giggle. “It might be a little lavender-y from the bath soap, though.”

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t care. Need you.”

And who are you to deny a man his needs?

--

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson smut #smut #requests

[formula1blog]

Carlos Sainz 55- spending time

Carlos Sainz x Fem!Reader

Summary: you and your boyfriend finally have a day to yourselves. You want to make the most out of it.

Wc: 2,8k

Warning: lots of nicknames, translated Spanish, Some smutt at the end MDI!

DON'T USE MY WORK PLEASE

It was one of those days when you and your boyfriend both had the day off. It didn't happen often. Carlos was always traveling or training for the next race. He was on the other side of the globe most of the time. Being a personal stylist yourself and having your own mode magazine didn't leave you with a lot of spare time. You traveled a lot in the fashion season, attending shows and even walking some yourself. The thing was that when you had to travel, Carlos was home and vice versa. Of course you both visited each other at your work, supporting each other career. But both of you having free time was rare, so this was a special day. 

This is how you found yourself in bed cuddled up against the chest of your Spanish boyfriend. You sun had woken you up because you had forgotten to close the curtains after last night's encounters. Both of you hadn't moved to close them, to wrapped up in each other's embrace. Your finger was painting circles on his bare chest as his hand went to massage your head. "This is nice." Carlos whispered, echoing your own thoughts as you both basked in the peacefulness of the morning. The world outside seemed to fade away, forgotten in the midst of your shared connection and the desire to simply be together. You knew you wanted to spend some time outside of your home today and for that you had to get up. 

"We can go out for breakfast. I fancy some tortilla Espanola." You look up at your boyfriend, the corners of your mouth moving up in a smile. Carlos returned your smile, his eyes twinkling with warmth and affection as he leaned in to place a sweet kiss on your head. "Just give me a couple of minutes, mi vida. Then we can head out," he promised, his voice filled with tenderness and love. You hum in response. Carlos's fingers continued to weave through your hair, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine as you fought the urge to drift back to sleep. You didn't want to 'waste' this day together by laying in bed all day. You wanted to make the most of every moment spent in each other's company.

Eventually you both got out of bed. Your Dior slip on dress had moved a bit in your sleep, your side boob hanging out. "We can also just take it off completely." Carlos tucked on the dress a mischievous smile on his lips. Before he could take it off you slap his hand away. "You have to waite till tonight cariño. I want to go for breakfast first." he groans in response way too eager for your love right now. You laugh at him as you walk towards the bathroom. It had been your routine that Carlos would make you both a cup of coffee as you went to get dressed. After that you could pack as he took a shower. So that was exactly what you were both doing right now.

Carlos was sitting in the kitchen making two cups of coffee as he heard you singing in the other room. He smiled to himself. He really won in life with you. You walk out of the bathroom in only your blouse looking around for your necklace that you couldn't find. Carlos followed you with his eyes, sometimes looking down at your but. When he noticed that you were looking for something he stood up and went to stand behind you. Putting his hands in your waist he asks "What are you looking for?" You turn around facing him and look up to see in his eyes. His gorgeous big brown puppy eyes. "One of my Vivienne Westwood necklaces. The one that you got me. I don't know where I put it. "

"I got you lots of those." You were obsessed with her jewelry line and he just had to give you everything you looked at for more than one second. You had quite the selection of her stuff. "I know you did. I am forever grateful for that even if I tell you that you don't need to get me those." He shrugs his shoulders knowing he would buy you another right now. "The Valentina Pendant. Have you seen it?" 

"Is that how you are going out." Carlos asks with a smile on his face as he looks at you still not wearing a skirt. A confused look appeared on your face thinking he didn't like what you were wearing before you saw that your legs were still bare of any clothes. 

He did indeed see it a couple minutes ago. He lets go of your waist much to your own disliking and walks to the coffee table. The necklace was laying on top of the current book you were reading. He picked it up and walked back to you. He moved your hair to the side and put it around your neck. "Thank you." You turn around and stand on your tip toes to give him a kiss. He pulls you right back when you want to leave. His hands had moved down to your ass, squishing it a bit. You smile into the kiss and you almost give in to him. "Not now, Carlos. We have things to do. Go get ready!" 

"Alright" He sighs. "There is coffee for you on the counter." He kisses your head and walks towards the other room. You thank him and grab your drink. Sitting down on one of the chairs you check your mail for any important news. You saw a new invitation for a fashion show and some questions about collaborating. You put them unread not wanting to answer them right away. You put your empty cup into the sink, also cleaning up after Carlos who hadn't yet cleaned up his stuff.

You ran back to the bedroom and walked out, this time wearing the skirt you wanted to wear. You checked if you had everything in your bag before walking out of the apartment. 

You walk hand in hand through the busy streets of Madrid. Even though you had moved in by Carlos two years ago, the city never disappointed you.

You can't help but smile as he pulls out a chair for you to sit and you exchange warm glances. His efforts to showcase the beauty and charm of Spain never go unnoticed, but you playfully resist admitting that it is indeed the best country. 

Carlos leans in closer, a playful glint in his eyes. "Come on, admit it. You know Spain is the best," he teases, nudging you gently.

You laugh, shaking your head. "Maybe it's pretty great, but I'll never say it's better than my home country."

The waiter approaches, interrupting your conversation, and you both place your orders. The suspense of your upcoming show hangs in the air as you share with Carlos that you received an email about a performance.

"So, when's the show? I can't wait to see you up there, shining on stage," he says with a grin, his eyes full of admiration.

"I still need to check the details. Don't want it to clash with any plans," you reply, a warm feeling of gratitude for his support. He nods his head agreeing with your statement. 

As you sit at the cozy, sunlit table outside your favorite cafe in Madrid, you can't help but reflect on the memories you have made in this vibrant city. Three years back you were here on a holiday with a couple of friends. That was the moment that you met the man in front of you. The love of your life. You had gotten lost in the crowded streets and asked a stranger for directions. He walks you towards your destination and gave you his phone number. You hadn't sent him a message right away, scared that he may be a creep. Your friends had convinced you after they heard you say his name. They knew he wasn't a creep. He is your future husband. 

You both look up by the sound of the waiter approaching your food. You take the food and thank him before turning back to your conversation. 

"I cleared by schedule for next week so I can come to Imola with you." You say and take a bite from your tortilla Espanola. His face lights up as you mention it. "Really? I already have a paddock pass for you. You are going to bring me luck." You smile at him. It had been some time since you were in the paddock. You really hated yourself for not being there so often as other wags. They all have their own jobs and they still managed to visit their boyfriends. 

After your brunch you walk through some shops. Carlos had bought a new suit for an upcoming event he had to attend. You had bought a matching dress for the event and a new top for next race weekend. 

Right now you were walking in a Victoria Secret and were looking at some new lingerie sets. The last two were broken after some fun activities you had done with Carlos. "What about this one." He shows the set to Carlos. It was a blue one, with lace trim and a little heart on the nipple coverage.

"It is beautiful, just like all these others you have chosen." He sat admiring you in every piece. He was already carrying some of the sets you had picked out and you disliked the idea of him having to waite much longer so you got dressed in your own clothes. When you got out of the changing room Carlos had already paid for everything and was carrying your bags. When you asked for them he just gave you his hand and walked out of the shop. 

"You didn't have to pay for that. I got my own money." 

"What kind of boyfriend would I be to let you pay. Everything you want i will get it for you, mi amor." He kisses your cheek. You blush at his words. "What if I wanted to get a special limited edition car that cost way too much." 

"Then I get it for you. Do you have anything in mind right now. I know that you want a Porsche. I can get it for you. Or a Ferrari, I personally really like those." He jokes in the last sentence. 

It was getting late and you were walking back. "Want to get some ice cream?"Carlos asks as he points towards a Gelato shop. 

"Won't your trainer disapprove?" You ask, knowing that ice cream isn't part of his training and dieting schedule. You are pretty sure it is somewhere at the bodem, just under all other delicious food.  "What he doesn't know doesn't hurt him. Lets go." He takes your arm and together you walk to the shop. The line isn't too long and you can already order after five minutes. 

"I love ice cream." You lick your cone. You had gotten a cone with pistache and white chocolate. You always take the same, can't go wrong with pistache. It is the best. Carlos had a cone with a vanilla scoop. A bit basic, but always delicious too. 

Carlos was still carrying your bags so he couldn't take your hand for the rest of the walk home. You had tried multiple times to ask to hand over your bags, but he just shrug and walked further.

You had stopped and took a picture of the sunset. While you were doing that Carlos took pictures of his sunset, You. For him you are the most beautiful thing in this universe. When you were done it didn't take long to reach your apartment. 

He opens up the door for you to walk through and you find yourself back in your home. You go to sit on a chair and take off your heels. "Finally free." Carlos shakes his head. He knows that those heels go and hurt your feet after more than one hour and still you refuse his suggestion to wear more comfortable shoes. 

Carlos walks towards the bathroom and you take this as your cue to run to your bedroom. You grab your Victoria secret bag and take out one of the sets that you had just bought. Carlos hadn't seen this one yet. It was a red piece with little coverage. You put it on and admire yourself in the mirror. You hoped he liked it. 

You heard the door open again and you went to place yourself on the bed. "Carlos, can you come here real quick?" You say as his footsteps get closer. You see him stop right in his tracks as his eyes stop you. "Mierda, eres tan Hermosa." he breathes out as he walks closer to you. He goes to sit on the bed and you lock eyes. His hand grabs your chin as he moves your head closer to his. Your lips touch into a deeply kiss as a soft moan escapes his lips. You move yourself onto his lap. 

You start to move your hips into his and Carlos groans at the sudden movement against his dick. The bulge in his pants was growing with each movement that you made. A moan leaves your mouth at the growing feeling under you. His lips attach to your neck as his hands move you closer to him. He leaves a trail of kisses down to your breast before staying in one place which was definitely going to leave a mark tomorrow. Your finger tucks on his shirt mentioning it that it has to go off. "It isn't fair that you are still wearing all of your clothes." He removes one of his hands from your ass and takes off his shirt. 

You go from his lap to help him with his belt. You stroke your hand over his throbbing area, this time a louder moan leaves his mouth and it sounds like heaven to you. Tonight the neighbors won't be getting any sleep.  You go further down the bed as Carlos takes of his pants leaving him in only his underwear. He towers over you both hands on either side of your head. He leans back down to place a kiss on your lips. You gasp as his hands move up your leg towards your wetness. He slips in his tongue when your mouth opens. "So needy for me already." He says as his fingers stroke over you pussy. The thin fabric of the lingerie doesn't do too much as you feel yourself asking for more. "Please, Carlos. I need you to touch me. "

He smirks. He pulls down your panties. He puts in one finger helping your adjust to it a bit before adding another. He keeps kissing you as he starts pumping his finger into your pussy. Moans leave your mouth as he takes up the speed. "So beautiful. So loud and all for me."He leaves a kiss between your breast. Your riding his fingers had been something you looked forward to since this morning. He feels you getting closer around his fingers and he takes them out just before you reach your climax. You groan in frustration as you feel empty. "Why?" You cry out. He places another kiss to make it up. "I want you to come all over my cock, princessa."

He takes off his underwear and his already hard cock  springs out. You moan at the sight of it. "Please, just fuck me. " He puts his dick by  your entrance moving it a bit up and down. Your hand fly in to his hair pulling in frustration. You need him now.

He enters you and fills you up. Pain went over you but it was fast replaced with pleasure as he began to move in and out of you. Your hands grab the duvet under you  and the feeling of pleasure goes over you. "Papi, faster" You scream out. Carlos didn't mind if everyone heard you. Right now was all about love. He picks up his pace and your eyes roll into the back of your mind. You feel a familiar knot forming in your belly and you know you are close "Don't stop, please I am so close." He feels himself getting closer to his own orgasm as you tighten around him. He goes a bit faster and you back arches. Heavy panting is heard as you both come riding out  your orgasms. 

Carlos catches his breath before sliding out of you an empty feeling leaving you behind. He walks to the bathroom and gets a wet towel. He helps clean you up and places a kiss on your mouth. " I love you, mi vida." He lays next to you and you put your head on his chest. " I love you too."

#carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x you #Carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz 55 #carlos sainz x oc #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz #f1 #formula 1 #carlos sainz imagine #f1 imagine #formule1 #f1 fanfic #carlos sainz fanfic #f1 x reader

[spooky-pop]

Hello, I really love your broppy kid Ivy. Could you tell us more about her?

Yeah! Any specific questions I can answer? I can share just my current thoughts and ideas about her and what I'm working on.

Ivy was an "oops" baby, lol! What started as Branch having an off day turned into chaos when he noticed an egg in the middle of the night after he was unable to sleep. Poppy was the calm one but Branch was completely terrified at first, and Ivy ended up becoming his whole world. Ivy shows strong resemblance to Grandma Rosiepuff, which melts Branch and softens his heart. She starts as an only child but eventually gets a sibling.

(old old old quick sketch of his initial shock lol)

(Fun fact, I pulled a bunch of inspiration and influence for her design from Viva's concept art! Her hair and colors, I always love sharing this little fact tbh)

She definitely has Poppy's personality but amplified as a child, her energy is off the walls and she keeps her parents' hands full, at least until she hits her teens. She was a wild child, constantly getting into trouble but she was just being a kid. As a young adult her personality shifts, and she becomes calmer yet more sassy, haha. She is very family oriented, and loves to bond with her aunts and uncles.

(Example of Ivy shenanigans...Branch is not happy with her because she went and got herself all dirty before they had a royal family appearance to attend)

Most Trollings can start singing from a very little age, but Ivy did not sing for the first time until she was probably 14. Branch and Poppy never rushed her, but it was odd that their daughter was the only one who was shy about anything musical considering it was in her blood. She did sing, just by herself. She has a confident exterior but deep down she cares a lot about how she's perceived, since she is destined to become queen one day. She does overcome her shyness and becomes a great performer.

A lot of the story I have figured out focuses on her as a teen and young adult, and how she navigates life as princess. In her original ref I made, it has more info on her personality. And I hope to post another part to it soon!

Bonus: Sleepy parents with their new baby

Hope you like!

#my art #ask #trolls au #broppy parent au

[discordantwritings]

Creative Cures (Mihawk x Reader)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, sex pollen trope (but it’s a devil fruit power), the inherent dubcon of sex pollen but the con is as con as it can get under the circumstances, intercrural sex, PiV sex, creampie, mild cumplay, semi public sex

WC: 3.3k

Summary: As a relatively high ranking Marine doctor you were in charge of Dracule Mihawk’s post mission check ups. Normally you don’t have to do anything- until he shows up sick.

The only solution both you and him can agree on is a little… unconventional

Notes: I (lovingly) blame @fanaticsnail for this. All of her lovely sex pollen fics pushed me over the edge to write this one so go check hers out. Go.

Tagging: @keiva1000

Most Marines didn’t like it when Mihawk had to come check in and give his after mission report in person. But you barely considered yourself a Marine anyways, always thinking of yourself as a doctor first before anything. A doctor who just so happened to be in charge of doing all of Mihawk’s post mission check ups.

Of course it took him a while to actually agree to do any sort of post mission work, but despite his generally sour attitude inside the Marines base he was never mean to you. Dismissive? Sure. Non-compliant with any medical advice you’d give? Yes. But that’s what you dealt with on a day to day basis. He was one of the few people you could have intelligent conversation with- he would listen to you and you would cherish the snippets of traveling stories you would get out of him.

Your check ups were never more than a handful of minutes, you had never seen him get more than a scratch, but he always let you run down your required checklist. Despite this you always cleared out half your day, just in case. So today, a day he was set to check in at your base, you sat patiently in your office until he was done talking with your superiors.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Until, finally, there was a frantic knock on your door before a frazzled looking cadet burst in. You immediately stand up and get serious- mass injuries were unfortunately commonplace for you to deal with and he had the scared look of someone who just saw a ship roll in half destroyed.

“Doctor-“

“How bad.”

“It’s Mihawk.”

That caught you entirely off guard and your stomach drops. “How bad?”

“We don’t know. He was giving his report and then he looked flushed and that’s when he ran out. Apparently he’s locked himself in some spare office and won’t come out.” He explains and you slowly get more and more concerned.

You quickly grab your bag and sling in over your shoulder, practically pushing the cadet out the door with you as you order him to show you where Mihawk is. It’s a quick jog down hallways and stairs but eventually you get to a door with two cadets on either side. One of your captains is leaning on the wall across from the door looking exasperated.

“The only thing he’s telling us is to leave him alone.” The captain explains, gesturing to the door.

You sigh and walk up to the door, rapping on it with your knuckles. “Mihawk, you’ve got everyone worried out here.”

A few seconds pass before you hear Mihawk’s voice, muffled from behind the steel door. “Doctor?”

“Everyone said you looked sick.” You explain.

There’s a long pause and you’re about to speak again before you hear his voice. “You all need to get out of here.”

You see the captain throw up his hands in your peripheral and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. Turning your attention back to your fellow Marines you gesture down the hallway.

“Give me a few minutes alone with him.” You don’t need to tell them twice, and they eagerly take the relief.

You wait a few beats for them to clear out and then turn your attention back to the door. “Alright, it’s just us.”

“I thought I made it clear that all of you needed to leave me alone.” You can tell he’s close to the door, which you take as somewhat of a good sign.

“Look, if it’s something contagious I just need to know. If it’s something embarrassing I’m a doctor and I take confidentiality incredibly seriously.” There’s silence and you lean on the door. “Just let me help you.”

You hear him moving behind the door and then the heavy sound of the lock turning. You give him a few seconds before you enter, closing the door after yourself immediately.

All the lights are off, only the small amount of light through the high circular windows illuminating the space. It takes you a second to locate Mihawk but eventually you find him, shoulders hunched as he leans on an abandoned desk. It’s jarring to see his normally perfect posture gone and even in the low light you can see the intense flush over his face and exposed chest. You don’t need a thermometer to see that his temperature is dangerously high.

“What happened?” You don’t approach him, hoping the space gives him some comfort.

“It was-“ He breaks off as he pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Some Devil Fruit user. Don’t know what the power was but I inhaled some smoke and then-“

He trails off and you know you’re probably in a bit over your head. Devil Fruit powers could be quite literally anything. You shove all that down though and hope your nervousness doesn’t show. “What are your symptoms?”

Mihawk shakes his head. “This was a mistake I shouldn’t have let you in you need to-“

“Mihawk I need you to tell me.” You’re unsure where this confidence is coming from, there’s not a world in which you would ever be in a position to tell a warlord what to do. But to your surprise, it works.

“I’ll kill you if you tell anyone.” He practically growls.

“You have my word.”

“Fine.” You see him shift and it looks like he’s uncomfortable in his own skin. “I have a fever, I am experiencing some mental fog, and my senses seem to be heightened.”

It’s your years as a doctor that let you immediately know he’s holding something back. “And?”

His gaze darts up and he glares at you making your blood run ice cold. If looks could kill you would be a pile of viscera on the floor. Despite this, he does give you and answer.

“I am in an… unnatural state of arousal.”

Oh.

That would certainly explain a few things.

You let your doctor brain take over as you set your bag on the ground, opening it and looking through what you have. Medication wouldn’t help since the cause was a Devil Fruit power but…

“Okay. I have a few ideas.” You reach into your bag and pull out an ice pack, throwing it over to Mihawk who easily catches it and presses it to his forehead. “The first is what you are doing, which is isolate until the effect stops. I’m not sure this is the best idea since you seem to be incredibly uncomfortable.”

“What else.”

“I could sedate you and hopefully have it flushed out of your system by the time you wake up.” You offer, showing him the vial of clear liquid.

“Absolutely not. I refuse to be further incapacitated around you Marines.” He spits out the last word and you would be offended if you actually considered yourself a Marine.

“Alright. Those are my… sensible ideas.”

“Which implies there are insensible ones. Spit it out.”

You can’t blame him for being short but it didn’t make your next concepts any easier to say. “I could find you someone to… ride it out with.”

That idea hangs in the air and you watch Mihawk screw his eyes shut, clearly struggling. “I don’t- it’s insufferable enough to be vulnerable on a Marine base but you want to bring in some stranger-“

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”

A thought pops into your head as you scramble for more ideas as Mihawk’s composure slowly keeps slipping. It’s a stupid thought, one a doctor like you shouldn’t have even had. But in the moment, pressed for ideas, it tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think properly about it.

“I would help you.”

You realize what you’ve said a moment too late and wish that somehow the floor would swallow you whole. It’s not like you don’t want to- it’s clear that your stupid monkey brain has always held on an attraction to the incredibly handsome warlord- but offering yourself up like this?

Beyond wildly inappropriate.

“Don’t say things like that.” Mihawk says as he backs up a few steps and shame hits you like a brick wall.

“I’m so sorry- it was- you shouldn’t be with anyone when you’re compromised like this I’ll just-“ You fumble over your words and quickly turn to unlock the door and get out of there.

Before your hand can even reach the handle an arm comes out from behind you and slams on the door. Suddenly you feel the intense heat of Mihawk’s body behind you, heavy breath fanning over the back of your neck. He doesn’t press into your body but instead hovers and your mind can’t quite keep up with the sudden change in events.

“Don’t say things like that if you don’t mean it.” His voice is low and dripping with lust.

Your gaze is locked forward as you try to control your breathing. “I meant it.”

“Last chance.”

The professional part of your brain gets smashed to smithereens as he presses his body against yours. “If you’re sure you want this then-“

The air is knocked out of your lungs as he steps forward, pushing you harshly into the door. One hand knots in your hair while the other snakes around your waist and pulls you in impossibly closer. The grip on your hair forces your head to the side, giving Mihawk the space to attack your neck, teeth digging into your skin immediately. As he does so he grinds his hips up and you can feel just how painfully hard he is against your ass.

The hand on your waist pulls at your uniform pants and you quickly get the idea, using your free hands to shove them down. You’re only able to get them just over your ass with how your legs are pressed apart by Mihawk’s but that seems to be enough for him. His hands leave you for a second and you hear the clatter of his belt before both hands tightly grip your hips.

You feel his cock slide between your folds, not entering you but instead sliding between your lips. His shaft is almost scorching hot as it slides against your clit, slick dripping from you and easing his shallow and fast thrusts.

“I just- fuck I just have to take the edge of your so-“ The grip on your hips is bruising as he holds you still to use you.

“It’s alright just-“ You can practically feel every vein against your sensitive clit and you bring one of your hands up and back to dig into his hair.

The scratch of your nails in his scalp is all Mihawk needs to tip over the edge, grunting as he spills onto the door and your thighs. You feel his heavy breath on your neck as he collects himself but the hardness against you doesn’t fade. You hear frustration in a low growl against your back but despite this he places kisses over the deep bite marks he created on your neck.

Slowly Mihawk pries his body away from yours and you take the opportunity to quickly toe off your shoes and slip your pants all the way off. When you turn around you see Mihawk watching you from a large chair, slowly pumping his cock, soaking from you slick.

“Get the rest of that god awful uniform off doctor.” You quickly discard your jacket and pull your shirt over your head, earning an appreciative hum from Mihawk. “What a pity you have to hide all that.”

You flush under his compliment and piercing gold gaze. With his free hand he beckons you over and you obey without hesitation. The second you’re close enough he pulls you into his lap, your thighs pushed apart by his spread ones. Your hands grab his shoulders to stabilize yourself as his hands find your hips once more.

“Normally I would work you open darling but-“ He nuzzles into your neck, breathing in your scent. “You can take it, can’t you?”

He doesn’t wait for a reply before one incredibly strong hand pushes you down while the other lines himself up with your entrance. You don’t fight him as his tip presses into you, stretching you out. You curse as he pushes into you a bit faster than you can adjust, but probably significantly slower than he wants to fuck into you. The sting feels good mixed with the way Mihawk curses and praises you under his breath, words barely understandable as his fingers bruise your waist.

“Just like that- so fucking tight-“ He mouths at your collarbone as you sink down and your head falls back as he splits you open.

Soon enough your hips meet his and you moan and dig your nails into Mihawk’s shoulders. He can’t help but shallowly thrust up into you, hot breath fanning over your skin as his instincts seem to overwhelm him. Once you feel ready you work to move your hips in time with his, pulling yourself up and down further on his length.

“That’s it- you’ve been waiting for an excuse to fuck yourself on my cock huh? Proper little doctor- I’ve seen how you- fuck- how you look at me.” You flush with embarrassment and look down to see his golden eyes blown out by darkness.

Maybe you should have some shame, knowing you were seen through so easily, but when he looks up at you like that you can’t think of anything else. You quickly press your lips to his and he seems caught off guard for a second- only to quickly overtake the kiss. One strong hand grips the back of your neck and holds you in place as his tongue slips between your lips. You stay like this until your lungs scream at you and you push yourself back and gasp for air.

You’re about to lean in for another kiss when you notice Mihawk’s gaze quickly dart to the door. You’re confused for a second but soon a loud knocking bounces off the steel door.

“Doctor- status report?” One of the cadets yells through the door and you swear under your breath.

You stop your movements, hoping to catch your breath and sound somewhat put together but Mihawk has other ideas. The second you falter he grabs your hips and starts moving you up and down effortlessly and when you glare at him he only grins up at you.

Seems he still has the mental capacity to be an ass.

“We are-“ You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to stop a moan after a skillfully directed thrust. “We are quarantining until some of my tests are- are done processing.”

There’s a pause before the cadet responds. “Okay… are you alright? You’re not sick are you?”

When one of Mihawk’s hands leave your hips you know something is up and you’re able to bite down on your hand in time to stifle the moan that leaves your body when his skilled fingers find your clit. You’re so close to an orgasm but you fight it back just long enough to get this stupid cadet out of here.

“Quarantine this hallway until my further say- that’s an order!” You yell out and you hope and pray the cadet doesn’t hear the pleasure in your voice.

“Y-Yes!” The voice shouts back and you hope he’s running down the hall because you can’t take this anymore.

“What would your fellow Marines think?” Mihawk’s voice, cruel and playful, rings in your ears. “They’re precious doctor getting fucked stupid by a pirate- fuck you like that don’t you?”

You can only nod, overwhelmed by hick cock and fingers skillfully taking you apart.

“You’re squeezing me so tight- just- need you to cum all over my cock- you can do that can’t you? Cum for me-“ There’s a hint of desperation in his voice and his command breaks any last tethers you were using to hold off your orgasm snap.

Mihawk swears loudly as your walls convulse around him and it’s only seconds later he’s holding your hips down hard against his and spilling inside you. You lay your forehead on Mihawk’s shoulder as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Even after you catch your breath he’s still hard inside you and you know you’re not done yet.

“I just want to see- hold on.” Is the only warning you get before Mihawk is standing up.

Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips but his strong hands on your ass are more than enough to keep you up. He moves a few feet to the desk, setting you down on it and tapping your thigh once you’re settled. You get the idea and unlatch your legs, letting him slip out and away from you.

“Let me see.” Mihawk says as he pushes your knees apart, eyes transfixed between them. “Fuck.”

He watches as his cum leaks out of you, his fingers quickly scooping it up and shoving it back inside of you. In any other headspace you might think that was disgusting but the way he watches you and is claiming you makes it incredibly arousing. Once he’s satisfied he brings his fingers up to your mouth and you automatically take them between your lips, tasting the mix of your fluids.

“I’m- fuck- you’re perfect.” He seems reluctant to take his fingers from your mouth but the second both his hands are free he’s easily flipping you around and pushing your chest into the desk.

There’s no warning before he’s plunging into you again, your hips roughly meeting the edge of the wooden desk. You don’t really feel the pain amongst the pleasure, oversensitive from your previous orgasm. You feel open mouth kisses pepper your spine as he thrusts into you from behind. While one of his hands stays on your hips- your skin practically indented in the shape of his fingers there now- one reaches down to your thigh, giving it a squeeze before he pushes your leg upwards. The new angle is heavenly as you just let yourself be used- sliding forwards and backwards on the desk with each powerful thrust.

“Need you to- fuck darling I just need you to cum on me again- please I need to feel it-“ Mihawk sounds so desperate, a whine to his voice that he no longer can hide. “Just a little bit more for me-“

Your body seems to crave following his commands and another orgasm is ripped from your sensitive body. Only a few moments later you feel him cum inside you again, and you’re confident at this point he’s dripping out of you onto the floor.

“So good for me- taking all my cum-“ He’s breathless as he pulls out of you again and you don’t need to turn around to know he’s staring at your fucked out hole.

When he actually give you space for a minute you turn your head, still using the table to support your weight. “You feel better?”

“Hm…” His hand skates up your back, soothing you. “Feeling just sated enough to get you back to the room I’m staying in.”

The prospect of going more rounds was overwhelming but you can’t deny that you wanted it more than anything. One problem.

“If anyone sees me I think they’ll figure out some of what happened.” From your messed up hair, the bruises forming on your neck, and the fact that there’s no way you’ll be able to walk normally- yeah it’ll be obvious you were just fucked within an inch of your life.

“Oh doctor.” He pulls you up off the desk and places a surprisingly tender kiss on your forehead. “If anyone else sees you like this I’ll kill them.”

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #mihawk x you #x reader #discordantwritings

[skteezcursed]

❝0025❞ — j.wy.

PAIRING. jung wooyoung x fem!reader.

GENDER AND WARNINGS. smut. friends to lovers. kinda idiots in love. switch woo. switch reader. teasing. strip poker. mentions of alcohol. pet names (pretty boy, bunny, love, good girl, etc). praising. p in v. unprotected sex (please, do NOT!). oral (mostly fem receiving). creampie. kinda breast play. mostly filth, i'm sorry. lmk if i forgot anything!.

SYNOPSIS. you and wooyoung have always had a thing for each other, but never acted on it, until one day he gets tired of waiting once he notices you want him just as bad as he wants you.

RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.

WORD COUNT. 3,3k.

NOTES. english is not my first language. part of the ateezchella especial. bye ♡.

IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraying how any of the people quoted here are in real life.

CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡

The idea that something could be so infuriating and exhilarating at the same time was confusing to say the least, but that was how you felt whenever Jung Wooyoung would look at you, the eyes that held a teasing and menacing gaze at the same time they burned to your skin as if you were the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. In all truth, you were, and he was expecting to make that known to you that night as he had managed to convince you to play a game of strip poker, the drinks you had earlier not helping one bit at keeping your judgment clear. 

It’s not that you were bad at card games, no, you were amazing at them, except when you had something – or several – to drink, which was now the case. Although Wooyoung wasn’t too far behind you in being intoxicated by the alcohol, he seemed to have kept his cool, almost sober as the cards were dropped and clothes started to fill in the floor you two were in, thanking heavens that you were alone with him at the comfort of your house, at the same time trying to ignore how the pool that was forming in between your legs kept getting more annoying as the time passed and your clothes were on the floor while he still had his pants and one sock on.

  “Oh, look at that…,” the grin that took over his lips made you want nothing more than to rip it out as you groaned loudly looking at the cards he was showing, winning again. “C’mon pretty, take some piece off.”

“I fucking hate you,” his laugh reverberated through the room as he watched you take one of your socks, trying your best to push away the cold that involved you as you were only in your lingerie. Sensing the disappointing look Wooyoung sent your way, you hid your smile trying to calm your heart. “Be ready to take off some pieces next time, you are gonna lose!”

The smirk was quickly back into his lips as he picked the cards shuffling them around his hands, as you forced your eyes to not stare at them, not to imagine how good they always looked on your thigh or how flustered you always were whenever Wooyoung was bold enough to touch you a bit longer and in a daring way. The truth was, you’ve always had a thing for Wooyoung, if you were honest, how could you not? He was the perfect mix of a gentleman and a menace, but never going as far as making you uncomfortable, whenever a slight hint that you were annoyed by his antics, he would stop and apologize to you. The fact he was a touchy person didn’t help keep your feelings at bay as you grew closer. 

As the cards were thrown, you tried your best to keep your poker face and legs crossed – the latter so he wouldn’t be able to see the wet patch on your underwear. Wooyoung was already cocky enough about all the attention he got, although he got shy, you knew he enjoyed teasing the living shit out of you whenever someone would compliment him or indicate they wanted him, but curiously enough, he never gave them another second of his attention, just politely declined and kept on with whatever it was that your group was doing, also leaning closer to you, even if it was to tease how many gorgeous women and men wanted him. 

Although you wanted to deny, you loved how he would decline all the offers that came his way. You weren’t much of a jealous type, but you were definitely a possessive one, as much as you wanted to tell your brain you shouldn’t be like that towards Wooyoung. Whenever he would tease about that, you’d play it out by saying that’s how you were with all your friends, receiving a laugh from Wooyoung as you felt his hands linger on your body, sometimes he would talk back against your ear, others he would pull you closer with some excuse, and on rare occasions he would just stay like that, fingers burning on your skin as the tip of his fingers would lightly caress your exposed skin. 

“YES! Told you I’d win!” You cheer with excitement as you draw your cards laughing loudly at his pout as his eyes bore into your figure and you notice a small smirk appear on his lips before he gets up, eyeing you with that menacing glare. “No, I don’t care what you say, I’ll win the next ones too and -”

As his fingers went to the buttons of his pants, your voice stopped at once, eyes ignoring the apparent tent that was there. Once his fingers found the zipper, your eyes averted to the ground, specifically to his feet that still had one sock, which brought an inquisitive look to your face, turning into shock as his pants fell at his feet before he took them out completely kicking them somewhere along with his shirt, the sock joining it not long after, bringing your eyes to finally look up, straight into his face, as the tongue was in between his lips along with the growing grin that made you clench your thighs together. 

The movement did not go unnoticed as you saw Wooyoung’s eyebrows rise and fall before he took a few steps closer to you, noticing finally how you had your legs up to your chest cursing at yourself as you realized he probably saw the wet patch in your underwear. As he lowered himself in front of you, the maximum you would allow your eyes to wander off was up to his chest, the tattoo on his ribs finally visible for you to see, for you to touch, to –

“My eyes are up here bunny,” luckily, you only clenched your own cunt and not your legs as the pet name reached your ears, as your eyes found his predatory ones, the smirk with a slight gap between his lips, allowing you to see his tongue moving inside his mouth… God, you needed it in – “still need to go a bit further up,” his finger found your chin bringing your eyes to finally meet his and stay there. “That’s it, I like when you look at me, especially when it’s like that.”

“Fuck off,” you push his hand away and turn your legs around in front of you, still covering the growing wetness between your legs, making Wooyoung chuckle before he returns to his position, “why didn’t you take your socks off, you are supposed to only take one piece of clothing.”

“Are you complaining, love?”

You rolled your eyes as you pointed to the cards in between you two, ignoring his grin as his fingers nimbly organized the cards, ignoring how his eyes were fixed on you.

“You're scared you will lose?” 

The scoff that came from Wooyoung made you finally eye him as he finished organizing the cards. “I was planning on suggesting something for the grand finale.”

“You definitely scared to lose though, you were the idiot who took two pieces of clothing, while -”

“You would do the same if you had noticed how hard my cock is as it only got harder as I saw how wet your cunt is,” that shut you up at the same instant, the deck of cards being left on the coffee table as his eyes never left you, the smirk growing as his tongue wet his lips, sitting cross legged in front of you as his hands found his thigh, chuckling as he noticed you finally noticing his hard cock against his underwear. “Are you still gonna pretend you don’t find me attractive and that you don’t want to fuck me as badly as I want to fuck you?”

  “Wooyoung, look -”

“What do I have to do for you to understand I don’t see you as a friend and that I want you to be mine?” As your eyes averted from his, you could hear the movement and see it from the peripheral view, only to get his hands on your chin, making you eye him as he towered above you, trying to ignore how his hard clothed cock was inches away from you. “I never wanted to be just your friend and I sure as fuck ain’t blind not to notice how you react to me, so are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you senseless before becoming officially mine, or you still gonna be fucking brat?”

Instead of responding you palmed his clothed cock watching as his mouth opened with a gasp as you squeezed gently the length, his hands moving from your chin to caress your cheek as you smirked at each other.

“Tell me again how badly you want me, Wooyoungie.”

As you said that, both your hands moved to the waistband of his underwear, pulling slowly as you sustained eye contact with him, until you noticed that the tip of his red angry leaking cock was finally seen. Making you eye him before moving your face closer to his hip bone, leaving a tender kiss there as you slowly moved towards his cockhead, watching as it twitched slightly, his chest going up and down rapidly, making you giggle before your lips touched the tip making him groan loudly. 

  “Fuck you are gonna torture me?”

“I told you what I want, if you give it me, I’ll give it to you,” another kiss on his cockhead makes him throw his head back groaning before his hand go to the back of your head, your hair getting tangled within his fingers, “it’s a fair trade don’t you think, pretty boy?”

“Fuck I knew you were gonna be my end the day I laid eyes on you, bunny,” at that, you finally took the rest of his underwear, making his cock slap you in the face, making you giggle before holding it with one of your hands, putting just the tip inside, feeling his precum on your tongue before squeezing lightly the base of his cock. “Fuck, you are such a fucking tease, the way you’d sway your hips, how you always wear something that shows skin just to have my hands on you trying to take those fuckers who just want to fuck you away -”

“But you are one of the fuckers who want to fuck me, aren’t you Wooyoungie?”

“The difference between me and them my dear bunny, is that I can fuck you senseless and you’d still come begging for more, because you are just as desperate for my cock as I am for your cunt.”

At that he forced your head down his cock making you gag as you took him all in, tapping his thigh after a while, feeling him pull your head back and up, as his lips finally met yours. It was sloppy, desperate, lustful, it was all you both wanted and more and you felt him pulling you closer, his other hand found your waist going up your back to unclasp your bra, but never leaving your lips, not even when he felt your hardened nipples against his chest, pulling you closer to his, letting his cock press against your stomach.

You tried to put your hand in between you two, but he wouldn’t let you, keeping you firm against him as his tongue explored your mouth, God the amount of time you imagine those lips against yours, leaving wet traces until it finally found itself between your legs with your hands on his hair as he ate you out. 

“Be a good girl and sit on the couch, legs spread open,” he was as out of breath as you were, yet you complied taking off your bra first, but he stopped you as your hands went to your panties to pull them off. “Did I say something about taking these off?”

“Then how are you gonna eat me out properly?”

“Oh, my sweet bunny,” he hovered over you on the couch, the smirk forever present as you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you, “I’m gonna make you scream my name in no time once I get a taste of you, and then I’ll fuck into oblivion until you beg me to stop.”

“Is that a promise?”

The doe eyes you sent him not matching the secret wish that question held, making his smirk grow as he pulled you in for another kiss, one of his hands going all the way from your waits to your knee as his other, found your breasts, pinching the hardened nipple making you moan against the kiss before he slapped it before massaging it all over again, making you whimper against his lips.

“It’s a promise since the moment I first saw you,” his lips lingering closely to your own as you felt his hand squeeze your thigh as his other moved up to your neck cupping your face pulling you in for another tender and innocent kiss before he started moving downwards, leaving a trail of open mouth kisses on your jaw and neck before reaching the valley of your breasts. “It’s a promise from the moment I saw your tits almost slipping out of one of those dresses you wore for the first night out we had as a group, where I almost had to fight a few guys who wanted what was mine.”

“I thought I wasn’t yours yet.”

“You were always mine, you just didn’t want to accept it,” his mouth fully involved your breast as his hand massaged the other, feeling the little random bites that would sure make their appearance in the morning, but you couldn’t care less as your fingers found his hair moaning every time he sucked and bit your breast, “so pretty like that and I barely touched you, I wonder how pretty you look all fucked out.”

“Why don’t you start by putting your mouth to use somewhere else?”

“Your wish is my comment, love,” he kisses you one last time before the wet trail of kisses happens all over again, slowly but surely accompanied by small bites here and there as Wooyoung makes sure to hold you down and spread your legs open as he gets closer to your clothed core. “Fuck, you are so wet, I wonder how much you can last.”

Combination of his words, eye contact, fingers gently taking the edges of your panties and the small kiss he leaves on top of your clothed aching clit, makes your hips jolt up, bringing a chuckle to Wooyoung’s mouth as he finally takes your panties of, a this line connecting your panties to your soaking core makes him curse before completely throwing your panties somewhere along with the other clothes. “Fuck, I can’t wait to taste you and make you cum on my mouth.”

Before you could say anything, his hot breath collided with your sensitive clit, a tender and contained kiss being left there as you could sense the chuckle Wooyoung left at your whimpers, reverberated through your body before your fingers found his head pulling him into your soaked cunt. His hands firmly on the back of your thigh spreading them open, your knees up to your chest as his mouth fully involved your clit, the kitty licks making you moan loudly and arch your back, feeling the small laugh he let out reverberate through your body once more.

“Woo, fuck-,” you cried as he lowered his head, his tongue at your entrance as his nose would meet your clit sending shocks of electricity and warmth through your body, “fuck, just like that Woo, fu-fuck, your ton-tongue, I can’t I-”

“Don’t you dare hold back, I wanna hear you, bunny.”

As two fingers entered you and his mouth closed on your clit sucking it, a scream left you. His fingers were quick, curling from time to time inside you making you squirm under him, as his arm could barely hold you still, but he honestly didn’t care, the sight of you shaking under him, your taste on his mouth, the feeling of your cunt clenching his fingers was sending him into overdrive and he wasn’t even inside you yet. 

The first wave hit you like a truck, the guttural sound that left your mouth followed by a scream as your fingers pulled Wooyoung’s hair was enough for him to finally let go of your wet folds. Once you felt his face away from you, your eyes met with his face glistening with your juice as he pushed his two fingers into his mouth, ravishing on your taste before pulling you in for another kiss. Your hands quickly ran down his chest to find his hard cock, before he stopped you.

“But Woo-”

“We’ll have plenty of that, unfortunately, if I don’t get inside of you right now, I’m afraid I’ll combust,” as you pulled him in for another kiss, your heels found his ass and thigh, pulling him into you, your hand finding his hard leaking cock and putting it at your entrance, making him whine against your lips as you squeezed him with your hand as to pull him closer to where both of you needed. “Fuck, I’m gonna break you, bunny.”

“You can break me as many times as you want if you are willing to put me back together.”

“God you are so perfect,” as his lips found yours with a tender and borderline innocent kiss, his cock pushed through your gummy walls making you gasp and moan against his lips before he hid his face on the crook of your neck, biting the base as he slowly entered your tight hole. “Tell me when I can move.”

A small shake of your head was all he needed before he started progressively thrust into you, his hips finding yours at a rapid pace as both your moans and grunts filled the house along with the sounds of your bodies. Wooyoung was a bit over average size, but he was girthy, so you were still getting used to his size as he fucked you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix every so often. 

His hands pulled your legs towards your chest making him hit a whole new spot inside you, making you scream at the feeling before his thumb start rubbing circles on your clit, your legs already shaking, mouth open, uncontrollable moans leaving both of you as his thrusts became sloppier, his kisses were messy and you clenched so much around him that ripped profanity after profanity from his lips. 

“Woo, I’m coming, fuck, please don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, it feels so good!”

“Cum with me, love, cum all over my cock,” as if magic, his words hitting your core sending you to combust under him, shaking and screaming as you felt your orgasm reach you, feeling his warm seeds inside you as his thrusts faltered before coming to a stop. Your legs were numb, but your arms quickly wrapped around him, your nails scratching his scalp softly as his body weight held you against the couch. “You are just as perfect as I imagined you to be.”

Your giggle came with the small kisses and love bites he left on your neck before pulling out of you and placing some distance between you two as he watched his seeds leak from your fluttering hole, a smirk on his lips before his lips met with your clit making you cry a moan.

“Wooyoung, please…!”

“Sorry love,” his face was quick to go up to yours, a kiss on your lips as you both smiled at the current situation. “So, can I ask you to be officially mine, now?”

“I was yours from the moment we met, Wooyoungie.”

“That’s my good little bunny.”

general masterlist here ♡

network: @cultofdionysusnet ♡ @atzhouse ♡

©skteezcursed (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

#cultofdionysusnet #atzhouse #yaya.atzimg #yaya.atzts #yaya.jwy #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez wooyoung #atz smut #atz x reader #atz fanfic #atz imagines #atz wooyoung #jung wooyoung #ateez jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung ateez #jung wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung fanfic

[flemingsfreckles]

Something New (18+)

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Synopsis: you and Jessie get teased for your assumed “vanilla” sex life, you decide to take Jessie on a trip to find some new things to try in the bedroom.

Warnings: suggestion to sex, sex toys, visiting adult store, (handcuffs, blindfolds, strap-on, buttplug, vibrators), none of the toys actually being used.

WC: 2.4k

A/N: if yall want a part 2 in which the toys are actually used, I can do that :)

“Oh come on there’s got to be something you want to try that we haven’t?” You pull up the sheet from where it had been kicked off the bed, covering your naked body before laying down next to your equally naked girlfriend.

“I don’t know.” Jessie just remained lying on her back, not making eye contact with you. Her chest was still rising and falling quickly, catching her breath.

“Oh come on, don’t be shy with me, after what we just did there’s no reason to be shy.” You two had just finished what was supposed to be quick morning sex but turned into a competitive match. Giving each other orgasm after orgasm until about 11am when you both finally tapped out.

“Are you asking because of what happened at Sam’s house?” Jessie asks.

The two of you had been at a party the night before at Sam’s with the rest of the team, playing various card and board games which led quickly to playing drinking games that somehow always ended up in discussions of everyone’s sex life.

When you started dating, you and Jessie had agreed to not disclose too much about what you two do behind closed doors to your nosey teammates. It was originally an idea out of shyness on Jessie’s part, you had never minded indulging your teammates in your experience but out of respect for Jessie and your relationship you kept your mouth shut for the most part. You started to like the secrecy of what went on in your beds, no one knew the details, just you and her. So when you were asked the craziest thing you’ve done in bed, you sipped away at your drink instead of answering. Unsatisfied with your choice to not answer, Sam began to accuse you and Jessie of having an incredibly boring and “vanilla” sex life. You tried to defend yourself and Jessie, Jessie being too shy to be any help, the teasing from your teammates had only continued.

“No.” You’re quick to answer, not even really thinking. “Okay maybe, I don’t know, I don’t think our sex is boring though, I love having sex with you. It just made me think and just thought I’d ask if there was anything you wanted to try.”

You truly didn’t find your sex life with Jessie boring at all, she was excellent in bed, able to meet and exceed your needs and the two of you being athletes meant you had the stamina to last as long as you wanted. You collectively owned a strap-on and a vibrator but nothing else. It worked for the two of you, it was great sex. But even great sex sometimes could use something new, something for a little change of pace. You also knew Jessie well enough to know even if there was something she was interested in, she most likely would keep it to herself until you pried it out of her.

“I don’t know.” You can tell she’s withholding information, still too shy to put her ideas into words. But you decide not to push it, it was a little bit of a personal question to throw on her and expect an immediate answer.

“Alright babe, if you come up with anything, you can tell me. Want to get a shower?” She nods, finally making eye contact with you as you both get up from the bed and move to the bathroom. You let the question go unanswered for now, secretly hoping Jessie would come up with something to tell you in the next couple of days.

After a week passes since you had asked Jessie if she wanted to try anything out in bed and not getting any form of a hint or answer, you decide maybe a little field trip would help. Maybe Jessie just didn’t know what she wanted to try, maybe this would give her some suggestions.

“Where are we going?” Jessie asked for the fifth time since you told her to get dressed and ready to leave the house. She claimed she needed to know where you were going so she could dress appropriately.

“I’ve told you, it’s a surprise.” You turn back to look at your girlfriend as you grab your keys.

“You know I hate surprises.” She mumbles as she follows you down the hallway from your apartment out the door. Jessie wasn’t a big fan of surprises, she liked having all the information and surprises made her feel out of control.

“Jessie it’ll be fine, I promise. If you hate it for some reason we can leave. Do you trust me?”

“Yes, I trust you.” She gets into the passenger seat of your car and you start driving. You debated having her close her eyes but it didn’t feel necessary, you weren’t going too far. You drove for another 25 minutes before you pulled into the parking lot of a small shop.

“You brought me to an adult store?!” Her voice is a mix of confusion and also a little bit scared.

“Yes, I did but we don’t have to go in if you don’t want to. I just thought, maybe we could look around?” You don’t want her to feel forced, but you thought this would be a good way to maybe suggest new ideas for the two of you.

“What if someone sees us?” You’re convinced her voice is raised a few octaves.

“Jessie, we’re adults. We’re also publicly dating, people know we have sex.”

“Still.” She was bouncing her leg, head swiveling to look around the car to the empty parking lot, and she was nervously playing with her fingers. You start to think maybe you should’ve asked if she’d want to do this before you made it a surprise. Or maybe just going online shopping would’ve been a better choice for someone like Jessie.

“Babe,” you place a hand on her knee, trying to settle it, “we don’t have to go in. If you don’t want to, we won’t. We also can go in and then immediately leave, whatever you want.”

She doesn’t say much, just looking at the door of the shop. You can tell she’s having an argument within herself on what she wants to do. You let her ponder, she slowly stops fiddling with her fingers, wiping her hands, that were likely sweating slightly on her legs.

“Let’s go in.”

“Are you sure?” Now worried she feels forced by you and like she has to go into the store.

“Yeah.” Before she’s able to get out of the car you grab her hand.

“If you want to leave, just tell me, we’ll go.” She nods and you both get out of the car and walk into the store.

You’d been in a store like this once before, buying a joke gift for a bachelorette party, but never when looking for something you actually wanted. The toys you owned had been purchased online.

You didn’t know where to start so you decided to just take a lap around the whole store, then figuring out where you wanted to look. Jessie followed you around like a lost puppy, her eyes barely leaving the floor, glancing up only to look at you.

You move over to the wall of dildos, you liked the one you had for your strap currently, but a new one wouldn’t hurt. It’s a little overwhelming, every color and size imaginable on the wall, ones that vibrate, ones that spin, ones that have heating elements. That sounded like a fire hazard to you. Your eyes scan over all the options, a few catching your eye, you prefer the fun colors, you look at sizes comparable to the one you already owned. It worked for both of you, no reason to make too much of a change with a new one.

You turn to see Jessie, surprised to see she’s actually looking up at the wall instead of the floor. You watch as her eyes scan, before setting on a blue dildo that looks to be slightly larger than the one you already owned. Her eyes wander away and then come back to the blue one. You give her a second to make a decision or movement to grab the toy, she doesn’t.

“You like that one?” You point at it on the wall. Jessie doesn’t say anything, just turning to look at you and then back to the box and then to the floor.

“Jessie, if you want it we can get it.” You notice the slightest nod of her head, but she doesn’t make a move to grab it. You sigh, letting out a small laugh at your girlfriend’s shy behavior, given she was the opposite in the bedroom once you got her going. You take the box off the wall and throw it into the basket you had picked up.

Jessie walks away and out of the section you were in, not saying anything to you. Now it was you who was the one following her around the store. She moves over to a wall of assorted items. Small vibrators, bottles of lube, gags, paddles, all sorts of things. You watch her carefully as her eyes scan again. This time they don’t stop for too long on anything. You assume nothing has peaked her interest. She takes a few steps around the corner to another wall of items. You grab a bottle of lube off the shelf, identical to the one you already owned, you weren’t running out quite yet but there wasn’t really such a thing as too much lube.

You scan the wall yourself before following Jessie around the corner. You see her hand reach out slightly toward something before she withdraws when she notices you coming around the corner. Her hand drops but she’s still looking at it when you come over. It’s a blindfold and handcuff set.

“Really?” You look at her, shock probably across your face as your hand grabs the box. She nods again, still not using her voice. You throw it in the basket. The thought of your hands restrained to the headboard while Jessie had her way with you, or hers being restrained while you got to tease her had you clenching your thighs together, ready to leave the store and try it out.

You are now just following Jessie around the store, less looking for yourself and just watching her eyes carefully as she has yet to actually say any words about what she wants to you. As you walk by a section of harnesses you see ones with a pocket where you could put a vibrator. You try to think if the one you have at home has a pocket but you can’t remember.

“Babe,” you whisper yell across the store to where Jessie was wandering around. She quickly comes over to you. “Does our harness have this pocket? I can’t remember.”

She nods at you and gives a quiet “Yes.”

“Oh, should we get something for it? We don’t have anything small enough to go in there.” You grab for one of the smaller bullet vibrators and hold it up to Jessie, cocking your head to ask her if she wanted it. She just gives you a nod again.

Jessie returns back to where she was before, you follow her over. She’s looking at another wall of assorted items. Only instead of walking past this one her eyes are glancing and then looking away only to draw back to some boxes. When you realize what she's looking at, your jaw nearly falls open, but not wanting to make her question her interest you keep a straight face.

“That?” You point at the silver butt plug Jessie was looking at.

“Only if you’d want it?” You realize she means she wants to use it on you, if you’d let her. You’d never tried it, but figured no harm in trying things out.

“Sure, I’m open to trying whatever with you.” You grab the box, throwing it into your surprisingly full basket. You hadn’t realized how many things you had picked up on your lap around the store.

You’ve nearly made it through the whole store, taking a last stop to look at some of the lingerie. You flip through the options while Jessie is back to standing behind you as if she was hiding. You find a red lacy matching set and throw it into the basket, you look back to see Jessie’s eyes wide as she sees what you had picked out. You flash her a smirk, knowing she’s picturing you wearing the outfit.

“You all done?” You ask your girlfriend. She gives you a nod and reaches into her pocket grabbing out her wallet and handing you her card.

“I’ll get it.” You wave off her card but she sticks the card into your hand again. You roll your eyes, taking her card and turning to go check out, leaving Jessie wandering behind you, not wanting to interact with the employees.

You check out quickly and look back to get Jessie’s attention as you’re ready to leave. She follows you quickly out the door and rushes to the car. You place the bag in the trunk and get in the drivers seat.

“See I knew there was stuff you wanted to try but were too shy to say it.” You poke at her cheek. “You could’ve told me.” You tease her gently you knew she was shy, she always had been since you met her, she was shy with everyone.

She doesn’t say anything but you notice the blush on her cheeks reddening. You decide to leave her be, not wanting to tease her too much. At least not yet, maybe later in the bedroom.

You throw the car in drive and leave the shop, heading home. When you get home you throw the contents of the bag on the bed. “So where do you want to start?” You ask Jessie turning to see her looking at everything you had bought.

“Handcuffs maybe the new dildo too?” She says with a questioning look, one eyebrow raised at you, no longer shy like she was at the store.

You nod quickly at her.

“Get on the bed.” Her tone is demanding, she reaches to pick up the handcuffs and blindfold as she makes her way to the side of the bed. You lay down and Jessie straddles your waist, her weight holding you to the bed. She drops the handcuffs before grabbing your hands with hers interlocking your fingers and pinning your hands above your head with her strength.

She leans down as if she’s going to kiss you, before moving to the side to place her lips against your ear. “This is going to be fun.”

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso smut #jessie fleming blurb #jessie fleming smut

[daisyblog]

First Date

Summary: Harry and YN are set up on a date.

2019

Jonny had separately nagged YN and Harry to let him set them up on a date. Harry’s argument was that he was in the middle of writing his second album, and wanted to be on his own after his last break up. YN’s protest was that she was a single working Mum who didn’t have the time, and added “nobody wants to date a single mum”. 

After what felt like months of constant begging, Harry and YN both gave in to their friend and agreed to go on a date. Jonny had arranged for them to meet at a small quiet restaurant on the outskirts of London, knowing Harry would want to stay under the radar. 

YN had been nervous all day. She had messaged Jonny several times to try and cancel but he insisted that it was just nerves and she should give it a chance. Harry felt mixed emotions, part of him was nervous, he was meeting someone new but the other part of him was excited because he knew Jonny wouldn’t set him up with just anyone. 

Harry arrived at the restaurant first, being fifteen minutes early. He was shown to their table which he was grateful was tucked into a corner away from other tables. He knew that was down to Jonny’s request. Wanting to calm his nervous, Harry ordered a bottle of wine for them, hoping YN liked it too. 

He had just taken a small sip from his glass, when he saw the waiter walking towards him with a woman following behind. Harry stood from his chair, ready to greet her. “Hi, it’s nice to finally meet you”. Harry spoke first, bringing YN in for a hug. 

“Jonny and his persuasive ways huh?”. YN joked, causing Harry to smile knowing Jonny must have nagged YN as much as he had nagged him. 

Harry pulled YN’s chair out for her to sit before taking his place back in her own. “I ordered wine, I can get you something else if you’d prefer”. 

“No…wine is perfect, thank you”. YN smiled with appreciation, showing her little dimples. “I like your tattoos”. She complimented as she noticed them on his arm, that was exposed due to his short sleeved shirt. 

Harry glanced down as he looked at his arm, smiling slightly at the mixture of ink that covered his skin. “Uh thanks…I have too many to count”. He giggled. “Do you have any?”. He gestured to his tattoos. 

YN hesitated before explaining. “I have one…on my wrist”. She turned her hand over to reveal the delicate ink on her right wrist. “It’s my son’s name”. YN watched for a change in Harry’s response or how he may end the date now. 

But what surprised YN was Harry’s genuine grin as he looked down at her wrist. “What’s his name?”. His question was genuine, YN could tell by how he looked at her directly in the eye which a soft look. 

“Jacob”. YN smiled as she thought about her favourite person. The little boy who saved her in more ways than he would ever know. “He’s five and a real sweetheart.”. Harry noticed how YN’s whole face lit up as she spoke about him. “Does me having a son not bother you?”. YN couldn’t help but ask.

Harry frowned at her question before shaking his head. “Of course not…I don’t date people based on if they’re a parent, or if they have a certain job or x amount of money in the bank…I date people for them.”. 

“I’m sorry…I couldn’t help but ask, I’m not used to people being so understanding when it comes to Jacob”. YN apologised, hoping she hadn’t ruined the date before it had started properly. 

“Hey…it’s fine, you can be yourself tonight…there’s no judgement from me.” Harry reassured her, knowing how it felt for someone not to get to know you and having a false opinion. 

“Thank you…that really means a lot”. YN smiled before taking a sip from her glass, needing to treat her dry throat. 

“So tell me about you and Jacob…I can see he’s your life and I want to know more”. The sentence caused a spark in YN’s chest at how interested Harry was in not only her but the one person who mattered the most. 

Harry and YN had talked, laughed and smiled all evening. YN couldn’t remember the last time she felt like herself and was able to be just YN and not just a Mum. Harry wondered how he hadn’t met YN sooner because for once someone didn’t want to speak to him because he was Harry Styles, he could see that YN was genuinely interested in getting to know him as just Harry. 

Harry had learnt that YN was in university studying business when she fell pregnant but had to drop out before graduating. But now owned her own florist in London. He noticed that she hasn’t mentioned her family apart from Jacob, but decided it was best to leave it that way for now. She didn’t ask one question related to the band or his music, she asked questions about his family, where he grew up, his childhood memories and all the little things that built up who he is today. 

After they had finished their meals and nicely argued about how the bill was going to be paid, they found themselves walking through a quieter part of town, still chatting and giggling like two teenagers. They wanted to blame the wine but deep down they both knew it was from the excitement of each other. 

Harry had arranged for a taxi to drop them both back home. They were both supposed to realise that YN didn’t live far from Harry’s Hampstead house. He walked YN up to her door to make sure she was home safe. They both stood staring at each other, waiting for the other to break the silence. Smirks covering their smiles. 

“I had a really nice time tonight”. Harry broke first, meaning what he had said. 

“Me too!”. YN felt shy for the first time all evening. 

“Can I see you again?”. Harry was bold, he hadn’t felt like this after a date before and he wasn’t willing to lose his chance. 

YN smiled, she felt special and chosen for once and inside she was screaming with happiness. Harry really wanted to see her again. “I’d love that”.

They quickly swapped numbers and Harry was eager to arrange to see YN again. Before making his way back to the taxi that was waiting patiently, he leaned in to hug YN goodbye. It was like neither of them wanted to let go but the feeling of Harry’s lips leaving a peck on her cheek is what caused YN to jump around in happiness once she closed the door behind her that night.

Taglist:

@ell0ra-br3kk3r

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harrystyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles series #harry styles writing #one direction #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x oc #harry x reader #harry x yn #harry x y/n #harry x you #harry styles fic #harry styles series masterlist #harry styles masterlist #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #louis tomlinson #niall horan #zayn malik #liam payne #harry 1d #one direction imagine #one direction fanfiction #harry edward styles #dadrry

[ronintales]

ೃ₊ 🌾 ❝ So When I Die ❞ ╰►, Gojo Satoru

𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒 | following gojo satoru’s death, his ex wife is in charge of taking care of his funeral service and everything else that comes with it.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 | 4,676 words

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | character death, possible spoilers, funeral, angst, and not proofread ;p

 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 | I did NAWT want this to be my first work on here but due to certain circumstances…. AHEM his DEATH!!!! I felt it was necessary because laik… grief LOL. I wrote this a while back tho. Enjoy.

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ♡ ༘° 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓, gojo satoru …

Your ex-husband is dead, and in his line of work, yes, you know that he has a higher risk of dying than the average person, but still, death never comes expected, does it? Even if he always says—oh wait… used to, you suppose, say that he was crazy strong and no one could ever take him down. Well, he was wrong in the end like a bunch of other things. Like how well he took care of you, how he’d give you six kids, how—you won’t ramble, noting he’s dead now and there’s no point, but also because it’s quite rude of you to talk down on someone who is dead and can’t defend themselves. Whatever.

You just… don’t expect it. Yes, you understood he was hard headed and insanely cocky, but in a way… you always believed that he would always come home alive and, even if he did get hurt, he would be okay eventually as he heals. You don’t forget it, he’s only human, you know because of the many mistakes he’s made, but still… he’s… he’s gone?

You hesitated when you heard that. Gojo Satoru, the so-called love of your life from two years ago, is dead? Impossible, you think. Gojo Satoru found death embarrassing, with all the things he said. He said that he would be okay. He was always okay. What are you supposed to say to that?

When you get the call, you wonder why you, of all the people in his life, were the one they called to inform about his status. Why did you have to go to his place and clean out all his things? Take all his belongings with you? At first, your instinct was to say “throw it all away,” because what does Gojo Satoru mean to you now? You’re not his wife! He neglected you for years and filled your days and nights with sorrows. He broke your heart. But still, he didn’t mean nothing to you at the same time.

Those precious years of being his acquaintance in middle school. When you had shorter hair and he didn’t know much about you other than you were in his class and he had bought you cute white socks for your class gift exchange on Christmas that year. The long years that Gojo Satoru pined for you after you both attended the same high school. The hard and dark times he went through losing Suguru and shutting you out, though he loved you for so long. When you turned twenty, and Satoru had gotten better, to the point where he felt he was ready to move on and continue with his pursuit for you. When you turned twenty-three, and got married to him on a spur. When you moved in and shared a bed, until the marriage got cold and most nights you spent alone.

You couldn’t say for the past fourteen years, Gojo Satoru was nothing at all to you. The news was shocking, and knowing he was dead… did you have to be careful about how you felt about him, or how you thought of him? Well, now that he is dead, should you be so ruthless and hostile toward the man who broke your heart? You don’t know, so naturally, and it really just slips out, you agree to take care of the process of his passing.

For the most part, you’re calm. You don’t actually know how to feel, and you don’t know how to be. You’re not his wife, you have no obligations to take care of him, or anything that he cared about. Yet, you’re here. In his lonely apartment that doesn’t even smell like him. He probably never even spent much time in this place, even so, he still had a lot of belongings. Pictures of you in frames surprisingly. He did take them all when you got divorced and he moved out of the house, you just didn’t expect that he’d put them up on display. He probably didn’t get many visitors to question him about the lady in his pictures. You were sure that would get annoying.

Anyway, you don’t know if you’re supposed to cry or even feel sad. You don’t know if it’s strange to feel that way or not. You can’t quite make out how you feel, being surrounded by Gojo Satoru’s personality and things. You don’t think too much about the things inside the apartment because you don’t want to be too reminded of what you used to be. What you felt about the man once upon a time. If there was still love in your heart for him.

Gojo Satoru wasn’t a slob, but he wasn’t clean either by any means. Given he probably didn’t stay here much, it made sense that you didn’t need to clean a whole lot of the apartment. You get there and you take it all in. Satoru’s little apartment, because he didn’t want to pay for such a luxurious place he wouldn’t even stay in. Maybe that kind of place made him feel more alone too. Thoughts you should not be thinking start to trickle into your brain, but you stop yourself. You shouldn’t feel bad for leaving, nor should you want to go back. You made a decision to leave and you should honor it. It was the right thing to do for yourself (hopefully).

Do you even want his things? No, not really. But you have a keep, donate, and a throw away bin anyway. Most of it keeps going to the keep bin and donation box. Somehow the feeling of someone else getting Gojo Satoru’s things is unsettling to you, but it’s even worse to think that all these things will just go to a landfill where things that were once valued are forgotten and it’s all going to be considered “trash.” Maybe that’s because you know why every item is there and the story behind that certain mug or decor piece. You don’t know it, but you’re trying your best not to care.

You sigh, the thought that this is all so strange, bothering and pestering you like an annoying fly. You tell yourself you know that already, so stop thinking about it. Maybe you’re in denial that Gojo Satoru is actually gone. You can feel him. He’s still there, you know it. That or you’re just surrounded by his belongings and that’s why his presence is here.

In your hand, you hold a big black garbage bag as you make your way to his bedroom to clear out his closet. This is a room of his that you haven’t been to, strange right? You wondered if another woman spent time here. Jealous much? You’re supposed to be clearing out your ex-husband’s apartment, not pondering about what he was up to after you two had split. The man is dead for one, what are you going to do about it? Confront his dead body? You shouldn’t be thinking about things like that, so that thought is one you shake off and ignore too.

You sigh because you’re tired from cleaning all day and clearing his things out and you’re probably only a quarter’s way done with the place. It’s not even that big, it’s just been uncomfortably hard for you to bring yourself here with your mixed and strange feelings about this whole situation. Isn’t there anyone else who cares about Gojo Satoru? How come you’re stepping up to the plate when this is how you feel—confused and unsure? What are you even going to do for the funeral? You took the task up because Gojo Satoru would probably turn in his grave knowing the higher ups organized his funeral. So while it is strange for you to do all of this, you’ve rationalized the lot of this situation that you put yourself in. Once upon a time, he loved you right? So surely he would prefer you over—you’re so silly, thinking all these things when Gojo Satoru is your dead ex-husband.

You plop on the bed with a small groan as you turn over. This is a bit inappropriate, to be laying on your ex husband’s unmade bed. It’s left in the state that it was the last time he woke up. That’s a little precious you think, freely, not even denying it. Are you ruining this precious thing here? Well, in all honesty, you’re kind of cherishing it, because this is a small piece of Satoru that is really still here in the present times. He always liked soft things and this blanket is soft. The sheets still smell like your ex-husband. The light musk of his skin and his soap is there. The thought of this bed being his is comfortable enough. Like you miss his warmth and touch, you curl up on the mattress, hugging yourself to the scent of him surrounding, and you can almost imagine that he’s holding you right now, like he used to. His detergent is faintly there too, well actually, it’s the same as yours. He asked when you two had split and he was settling into his own place all the household items you used. You supposed that it was all he knew.

You offered to go shop for household things with him and it was probably the last time you two had exchanged any kind of affection. You let him put his hand on your thigh as he drove you two to the supermarket. He let you link your arm with his, sides flush together like you two didn’t just get divorced. It was a silent message of “I miss you,” because it was and—quite frankly, still is—hard to get over someone you loved for so long. Even if he left the marriage long before you did, emotionally and physically. This was something you wanted while you married, for Satoru to present, and in your arms. For him to show you that he cared and loved you. You were even a little upset that was the only time he was doing all of that for you, but you chose not to ruin the moment for the both of you.

Funny how all these memories and things between the two of you are flooding in constantly. It makes you feel kind of sick. Nauseous and unable to breathe. You open your eyes in realization of what you’re doing right now. You sit up immediately, flustered and embarrassed as if Satoru would open the door right now and have that annoying smug grin on his face with his arms crossed, just to say as he leans on the door frame, “I knew you missed me.” Following with your name because he liked your name the best. He always said your name was pretty and he wouldn’t give you a pet name because nothing will ever be as great as calling you by your name. A nice little reminder that Satoru loved your name makes you smile a bit. Weird how all of these just keep piling up. One thought triggers another and it almost makes you itch and feel bad for the way things ended between the two of you. You almost have regrets about—

Whatever, you have a deadline to clean this place up you remind yourself. You spread your palms out on the sheets once more, feeling every thread that Satoru once laid his body on. You should take these for your bed, you think. They’re not so bad, just a plain white sheet, but it reminds you of Satoru’s hair and it would be waste.You lift yourself from the bed and open his closet, not even noticing how you keep having to make excuses for yourself to keep some of his things.

Already feeling overwhelmed because you keep holding back, opening the closet makes you feel like you’re cracking. You let out a suppressed sound. You can’t even register what it sounds like. A squeak or something? But looking at all his clothes almost makes everything so real for you. All his uniform? All his coats and sweaters? Ah, the one from high school. And then you can see all the ones you bought him. Damn, does that really test your strength.

Lined up neatly and nicely put away, it’s almost a shame to you to give these away. Your hand shakes as you hesitantly reach for one of his favorite button ups. Your skin meets the soft fabric and you only lightly touch it because you don’t want to wrinkle it. You remember when you used to iron Satoru’s clothes early in the morning before he woke up. Even until the end of your marriage, you still ironed them.

You look up, reaching for his work uniform. This is what he wore most often, you know that. So you let yourself crumble. Carefully taking off the hanger and sitting on his bed as you hold the shirt close to you. You bring it to your nose, just to smell it. You wish it smelled like Satoru more, but even so, it makes you break down.

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you take another sniff. The thought that Satoru really isn’t here anymore makes your heartbreak. It comes crashing down on you. You really miss him, and you regret that you didn’t spend as much time as you would have liked to with him. You wish you could have had the courage to tell him how much you still cared and loved him. Yes, it might not have been the same kind of love you had for him before, but you did still love him.

You let out a little sob. In frustration and despair, tears flow out as you hold his clothes close to you. The walls of your bruised heart collapses as you hold his clothes so tight as if he was still in them. Well, you really do wish he was. You’re desperate to feel him in your arms physically. Just a moment with him so you could say your last sentiments. Just a moment to see him again. Just a moment to love him.

You’re helpless as your tears flow endlessly onto his shirt. You feel silly, but you just can’t stop. You really miss Satoru, and you have been for so many months now. You stroke the shirt as you would his body, wallowing in the grief you’re supposed to feel, even if the dead man is your ex-husband. You spent so many years loving him, how could you just not feel anything to hear news of his death? How could you not feel any regret or remorse for how messy you left things with him? There’s so many things you want to say to him, and it kills you to know you will never get to say any of it to him.

You wonder if Satoru was still around, would he wrap his arms around you and tell you not to cry? Would he kiss your temple like he always did when you were down? You wish he would just do all of it. You wish you two could have tried harder. Your love for him never burned out, you know that much. It’s the reason why you’re here, alone in his room crying as you hold his clothes dearly to you. And even if you hate to say it, even if you don’t want to admit it, Satoru loved you until the very end too.

“I’m still in love with you y’know…”

“Shut up,” You mutter as you slide the eggs off the pan for the hungry man at the table.

It was the dead hours of the night when he returned from a mission, knocking on your door, telling you that he was hungry and needed a place to crash.You slammed the door on him of course, but he wedged his foot in the gap of the door (no, it didn’t hurt, he’s got magical powers that prevent him from actually getting hurt like damn maniac) and used his own strength against you to push his upper body through the door to beg you to let him stay. It was a mistake on your part, but it actually wasn’t all that terrible that night. You were just bitter.

“My bad,” Satoru said dramatically as he took a bite. “Just thought you missed me. That’s the reason you let me in, right?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, not in the mood for any of his games. His smug grin made everything even worse, because he was right. “Gojo Satoru, wipe that grin off your face.”

“Must have hit a nerve,” He teased like it was still appropriate to do so.

You actually don’t even remember what you said then after that, but you just know… Gojo Satoru has you all figured out yet… he never said anything about it to you. And that was just him. He knew well enough not to break your heart one more time, but he was selfish enough to constantly flirt with you any time he could. If he passed by, or was coming home late from a mission and knocking on your door to remind you that he existed. Not anymore.

After cleaning his apartment, it’s all empty now. Which is a little strange. You’ve never even been to his place until after he died, and yet… it makes your stomach turn and feel upset after realizing that this place is no longer where your ex-lover resides. You understand that he’s no longer occupying it. There’s no point in keeping it for him. But maybe because you don’t think it through while you’re still in the grieving process. You don’t think about Gojo Satoru being dead because you don’t want to. It makes your heart squeeze and your breath stop. You can’t face the fact that he no longer exists and you can no longer see him anymore. You just can’t, so you wonder: where will his home be? Who's going to take care of him? Where is he going to go to shelter himself from the rain or snow? Where is he going to sleep? Where can he feel safe and secure?

You sigh, rubbing your eyes. You really need to get some proper rest. You feel yourself withering in the bitter feelings you still have toward Satoru, but also the dangerous sorrow that’s sinking your whole body down. You can’t believe that you really miss Gojo Satoru after all this time hating him and wishing you two had never met when he was here and alive, waiting for you to just cave into what your heart wanted. Truth is though, you never would. You were too strong for that.

Finally, you pack up the final things, leaving absolutely nothing behind. Satoru isn’t here anymore, and it looks exactly like that. This little corner of the world isn’t his anymore, and you’d like to say that it never was because he didn’t spend much of his time in this place. It’s just sad to see it all gone, stripped to the bare white box it actually is without the fun of your late ex-husband. You shut the door, leaving this place behind and bringing this part of Satoru with you, maybe the only part of Satoru that is still worldly and able for you to have in your grasp. You leave the key to his apartment on the landlord’s desk and leave with the rest of Satoru’s things in your arms, all thrown in the cardboard box labeled “Satoru” in your handwriting with a permanent marker. Silly of you to not even realize it, Gojo Satoru’s home is not a place, it’s you.

The end of it was the funeral process. Which was much more work than cleaning his apartment. You wish somebody was worried about your well-being, but that somebody, the most likely candidate, was dead. Satoru would have told you to chill out a bit and ask you to wind down with him, but this is his funeral, he can’t really do that now, can he? But you don’t want to seem like you’re so reliant on him. You’ve done plenty of things without him, and this will be no exception. He just… sort of made the process easier and bearable. You’re on your 10th phone call with the carpenters of the coffin when you really wish you didn’t take on the task of carrying out Satoru’s dying wishes. He didn’t even have many, because he was so sure he wasn’t going to die so soon.

Through it all, you hold yourself together quite elegantly. Even through the eulogy. No one would even guess the mental strain you put yourself through to make this all happen. All the floral arrangements are beautiful, Satoru’s corpse is dressed nicely—though you grace him with a closed casket funeral because you were sure that he did not want anyone to see him so vulnerably lifeless and you simply could not handle the sight of his stale and unresponsive body. But everyone could indeed tell, Gojo Satoru was loved. They could understand your love for the man. You wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t love him. But you just deny it.

His guest list was quite large. Some people you didn't even know, and you were sure he did not want that. But the higher ups had their own agenda too, and you had to make compromises though you stood your ground quite well for the sake of your late ex-husband's well being in the afterlife. You wonder, would Satoru love you for eternity for loving and caring for him unconditionally and so thoroughly? When you eventually join him, will he thank you for so meticulously planning and giving him a proper send off? You hope so. You hope that he will continue to love you in the next lifetime, and in that lifetime, you two will be happily together. Not miserably apart like you are now.

Maybe the only time anyone can see you break is when the casket is lowered and this is the last time that you’ll ever see Satoru’s face again, except you don’t. His casket is closed and covered with all the flowers you bought to send him off beautifully. There’s a complex look on your face, and no one could quite read it, but it was clear that there was a storm going on inside of you, stirring and rumbling. Your eyebrows knitted together and your eyes glossy with a down turn of your lips. You’re just keeping yourself together for Satoru. You need to.

The only time you get to break down about it is when you get home from the long day. Crumbling down your door, as you miserably sob. How could the world be so possibly cruel that you had to bury the last man you loved for the past ten years? It never gave you time to move on. You weren’t ready to let go just yet and be content with the distance. Sure, you asked for it when he was still tangible, but now he was untouchable, not existing, and it felt so painful. You curl up in a ball, on the bed you used to share with him. The bed you two used to gossip on and the bed where you simply just held him to sleep on your good days. The bed that you laid alone for most nights wishing he’d come to hold you and not be too tired for you. All the bad and good memories come to make you think of one thing; you wish Satoru was here right now.

You lay there, contemplating if you just want to stay there for the whole week or get up and cook yourself something. You haven’t been eating with how hectic it’s been to take care of Satoru’s send off. You sigh, closing your eyes. Sleep sounds like the best thing to you at the moment. You were drained and exhausted from preserving the life of Gojo Satoru as well as commemorating it. You needed that rest.

When you drift into sleep, you kind of hope that Satoru is there for you, waiting in a field of beautiful flowers like he came to visit you in a dream. Even if it’s just your imagination. You’d like to think that he cared enough that he left you alone to deal with all of the things he left behind. He doesn’t though, because you don’t dream. You just black out and you wonder if you’ll ever dream again. But maybe you’re just being dramatic because you miss your ex-husband so much. You blink the tears out from your eyes, wiping them before getting up and pulling yourself together. You can be sad, but not miserable. You were never the type to just crumble, however, even this shook you down to the very ground and yes, it is hard to get back up. But everything with Satoru was hard, and this was no different. You should have been used to this.

Eventually, you do get yourself together. Sad, but you’re functioning. You go back to work and you continue with your daily life. Satoru’s never really been a part of your daily routine after the 3rd year of being married to him. It was no different not seeing him at all, but it was just the fact that he truly wasn't there anymore. If you were to call his cell, it would just ring on your dresser in your room and go to voicemail. Sometimes, you wait for the voicemail just to hear his voice, but most times you stay away from his contact. You’re recovering, just slowly.

People at work send their condolences, just like they did when they found out you divorced Gojo Satoru. They give you a pitiful look and tell you to be strong, but when they think you’re not listening they bash Satoru for passing and still putting the responsibility of carrying his will out on his ex wife—you. You don’t defend him nor does what they say settle well with you. They’re right, of course. Gojo Satoru has always been selfish, up until his last breath, but you just can’t seem to feel validated when you’re the one who buried Gojo Satoru. He was once your whole world, how could you just completely numb yourself to the pain of losing your connection with him, absolutely and completely?

Apparently, you’re the only person on his will too. You inherit everything of his one day, and it’s kind of overwhelming. All of his money is transferred to your bank account, all his belongings, everything is yours. You don’t even know what to do with most of it. You don’t even want to look and use anything of his. So you store most of his things in a box and label it “Satoru,” along with the other things that you took from his apartment, and you make an account to store all his money in, for what? You don’t know, just something.

When you're older, you’ll come to realize that you made Satoru a loved person until the very end, and that you were perhaps the only person that he still had love for, even if you weren’t his wife anymore. This is why Satoru loved you so much, and yes, he got very lucky with you, you will give yourself that. But you also won’t feel so bitter about having to be the person to handle his departure because you made sure to do just the way he wanted it, by you. for now, you’ll miss him lots and bring him flowers whenever the time comes. You won’t call him your ex-husband, but your late-husband. You keep some of his clothes to wear like you used to. You still sleep on your side of the bed, leaving the space Satoru used to fill empty for him. Life goes on the way it used to.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo #satorugojo #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #gojo fanfic #gojo angst #jjk angst #jjk fluff #satoru x reader #satoru x you

[missnxthingg]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 - 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Lando Norris x Actress!Reader (Enemies to Lovers & Fake Dating AU) 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - Lando Norris really messed up on the first time meeting one of Hollywood’s newest and hottest stars, Y/N L/N. But when his reputation gets too bad, she might be the only one who can save his career from being completely doomed. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 - 4.6K | 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - Swearing, mentions of sex, angst 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 - Very very sorry for the delay! Life was a mess and I needed to get things in order. It's coming to an end 🥺 last one will be the last chapter, but let's enjoy while it lasts. Also, this one is for all of us Lando girlies who love to see him succeed in Interlagos!

series masterlist | main masterlist | main blog | taglist

𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 - 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐃𝐎 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

The morning after the fight was a rollercoaster of emotions for Y/N. She woke up feeling cold, the covers kicked to the bottom of the bed, and no one lying next to her. By now, waking up next to Lando felt familiar and too comfortable for her liking. She had grown fond of having him pressed against her every morning, his arms draped around her waist and his nose buried in her neck. It felt weird to not have him next to her when she opened her eyes. And then she remembered why he wasn’t there.

She really wished she could go back to sleep and pretend the previous night hadn’t happened.

Y/N wrapped herself around the covers once again and groaned, feeling almost like a truck ran over her body the previous night. She could blame it on the only margarita she had the night before, but she knew she could only blame the fight she had with Lando. The memories of them confessing their feelings for each other was almost too painful. It was killing them; and maybe it was for the best to call off their “relationship”, if they could even call it that.

As most days in November in Brazil, it was bright and sunny outside, but Y/N was convinced it was for the best if she stayed in for the entire day. Maybe she could catch up on her watching list on Netflix, order junk food and cry her heart out while no one was watching. After all, she was only required to go outside tomorrow, when her PR team asked her to accompany Lando to the paddock during media day.

She managed to not cry just fine so far that morning, but the universe was making it really hard to keep it together. If the emotions weren’t enough, Y/N found out that day that she was nominated for an Emmy Award. It was all over social media, with everyone congratulating her and posting clips of her performance on her latest show. Her phone was blowing up with calls and texts, but she didn’t have the energy to celebrate it.

Suddenly, it all felt too lonely. Y/N had just acquired the biggest conquest of her career, one that she has dreamed of her entire life, and she had no one to celebrate it with. The person she wanted to celebrate with the most was nowhere to be seen. So she cried alone in that hotel room, because there was nothing more she could do. She should’ve been out there celebrating that conquest, but she was weeping for the loss of Lando Norris, of all people in the world.

He wasn’t having the best days himself. After she left, Lando couldn’t bring himself to fall asleep even if he wanted to. He could only think about Y/N leaving their room crying after saying she didn’t trust him; after telling it all went wrong because he could only think about himself. All the work he did to try getting to her heart gone to waste, only because he forgot to apologize. 

After a couple of hours after finally getting some sleep, Lando was woken up by knocks on his door. Max had come for him after he didn’t answer his phone for the entire morning. His best friend understood what happened almost immediately when he opened the door, his eyes blood shot from crying too much. Lando sighed before crying more, feeling completely powerless with the situation he was trapped in.

“I fucked up”, Lando admitted, completely defeated. “And fuck, I love her so much. But she’s gone”.

Max tried to cheer him up, attempting to get the pieces back together before he was required to be on track, talking to countless journalists about his job. Lando didn’t want to talk about anything with anyone at that moment, only to Y/N if he could. In the end, with all the suffering he was going through, she was the only person he wanted to talk with to make it better.

“It’s not her fault. It’s my fault. All me. I’m always the problem”, he thought, all day. Everybody knows that Lando can get himself down a self depreciation hole, but now he actually knows it was all entirely his fault. So it was a little harder to get him out of there.

He heard of her Emmy nomination later that day, while they were waiting for breakfast at a bakery. Lando felt a boast of energy in his body, feeling so proud of his girl’s achievement. But when he remembered she didn’t want him there to celebrate it with her, he felt sad once again. He had to retreat back to his hotel room, because it was too painful to pretend nothing had happened while he was outside. People were starting to recognize him, and they could all see the sadness painted all over his face. He couldn’t do it anymore.

The first time Y/N and Lando met again after the fight was on the Thursday morning, as they were waiting for a car to pick them up at the hotel to drive them to the track. He felt uneasy to be around her, not getting to exchange a single world to her. She had grown into his best friend over the past couple of months, him always wanting to share everything with her all the time. So when she avoided his eyes like the plague, it hurt him too much.

Still, he wasn’t one to give up so easily. Lando approached her as she was distracted and said what he was dying to say the entire day. “Congratulations on your Emmy nomination. I’m very proud of you”, he kept his voice low, almost as if he was afraid to say those words. Y/N was looking away from him, but her eyes met his once she heard the words. It was as if she was trying to figure out if it was a figure of her imagination or if he was really saying it to her.

He finally got to see how bad she was as well. Lando knew her like the palm of his hand by then, so he could see that she was suffering too. But he saw a little bit of the light come back to her eyes with his words. But as much as she wanted to throw her arms around him and give him the tightest hug, she knew she had to be tough. So she toughened up and gave him the coldest response. 

“Thank you”, she nodded, looking the other way the second after. If Y/N stared into his eyes for too long, she would give into him. Only a few words from him were enough to ignite the fire on her heart once again.

“I would like to talk to you eventually”, he said, still facing only the side of her face. Lando watched her close her eyes and hold her breath. She was trying to not cry again. “If you want to, of course”.

“Not now, Norris”, she walked away without even looking him in the face.

It was hard to pretend everything was fine as they walked together in Interlagos, especially with the whole media surrounding them and ready to fire questions if they noticed something wrong. Luckily, since there was no racing happening, Y/N got to stay buried inside the McLaren motorhome until it was time to go back to the hotel once again.

Everybody noticed something was wrong, especially with the look on Lando’s face. His mood was so down that even Zak Brown noticed it. And judging by how Y/N hid herself in the McLaren hospitality until the whole thing was over, he put two and two together. He tried talking to Norris, but Lando kept assuring everything was fine. No one in the team, specially those who knew the relationship was fake, knew what was going on. How did the lovey-dovey couple go from posting cute pictures on social media to no talking in a couple of days?

Impressively enough, the whole thing that happened between Lando and Y/N didn’t affect his performance at all. He secured P2 in sprint qualifying and maintained the position on the sprint race. And if that wasn’t enough, he got pole position for the main race on Sunday. Yet, he couldn’t feel happy about it enough. None of that seemed to matter, because he couldn’t feel joy at all without Y/N.

He could’ve finished in any position – he could’ve won, for that matter – and he would still feel nothing. It hurt too much to receive nothing but an empty “congratulations” and a lifeless hug, just for the cameras to capture. Lando wanted to punch a wall, and he wanted to punch himself for what he did.

Later that day, when he was back at his hotel room with Max, Lando couldn’t control his crying anymore. He had been excellent at not bursting into tears through the past few days, but it was getting too hard to bottle in the feelings, especially when Y/N’s hands felt cold on his as they walked with fingers laced in public. His best friend had to hug him in order to hold him up and not crumble to the floor.

“Come on, mate. You need to stop crying and go get some rest for tomorrow”, Max pleaded, now having Lando sit down in his bed. “I know this whole thing is hard, but I can’t stand to see you this sad when you should be celebrating the perfect weekend you’re having”.

“I think I lost the love of my life, Max. So of course I’m crying”, Lando wiped off his tears, but they kept streaming from his eyes. “I can’t feel happy without her. She’s everything to me, and knowing I fucked her up makes me feel so stupid. I’m so fucking stupid to not apologize to her.  I did everything, but forgot the most important part of it all”.

“Have you tried apologizing again?”, Max asked and Lando nodded.

“I said I wanted to talk to her whenever she was up to talking, but she ignored me”, Lando sighed, throwing his back against the bed. “I would do anything to go back in time and fix this”.

“You don’t need to go back in time to fix this”, Max said. “Look, mate, she has admitted having feelings for you, right? So find the right words, put your pride aside and get her back”.

“You don’t know her. She is as hard-headed as I am. No simple apologize will make her forget the dickhead that I am”, Lando said. “And maybe I really don’t deserve her. She needs someone who has never treated her less than the amazing person that she is”.

“Lan…”, Max tried talking again, but his friend needed to vent more than hearing more advices.

“I would do anything to see her happy again, you know? It’s even worse to know she’s suffering too, because I can never get out of my head that it’s my fault. And I could make her so happy if she gave me another chance. I just know it”.

“I’m not the one who’s supposed to be hearing those words. Talk to her, tell her everything bottle inside you. This time, remember what I said: find the right words. And if it doesn’t work out, well… you already have nothing. You have to at least try”.

Lando went to sleep that night with Max’s words in his head. Months ago, he vowed he would do anything to make Y/N trust him, and he’s yet to try everything in his sleeves. There’s still one more chance, and he would take all the chances he had to have Y/N back.

When Sunday morning came around, Y/N felt almost hungover with the exhaustion from that week. She dragged herself out of bed for the fifth time that week and put on a sundress to enjoy the nice and warm weather outside. Then after breakfast, she waited at the meeting place in the hotel to get to the paddock, ready to put on her best acting and pretend everything was alright. Today would be crucial, because all the eyes would be on her and Lando through the main event of the weekend.

Through the night, before he fell asleep, Lando thought of a thousand ways to get Y/N to talk to him. And if she was finally going to listen to him, he knew what to say. But all his plans were lost when he saw her standing at the hotel lobby, waiting for the car to take them to the track. He thought of a lot of ways to approach her, but he simply rushed into her encounter. And as if their eyes were magnets, she turned to look at him just a few seconds before the collision. Before she could protest, Lando had her engulfed by his body.

She was taken by surprise with the action, but she was even more surprised to how her body reacted to it. Y/N immediately melted into his touch and let her arms around his shoulder, feeling her chest burning into flames and feeling easy to have him so close. She buried her face in his neck and let all the tears she was holding in for days finally fall in relief.

“I’m so sorry about everything”, he whispered in her ear, holding her a little tighter. “I have so much to apologize to you and the right words to say everything, but so little time right now. I don’t want to go one more second without talking to you, because it's been too much for me. I miss you, Y/N”.

“Lando”, she leaned back and looked between his eyes. Y/N could see how this entire thing has impacted him as well, and it hurt to see him hurt too. So she softly ran one of her thumbs though his cheek and smiled, tired of fighting.

“Y/N”, he encouraged, still too nervous with her response. But he felt a little better to see the smile on her lips once again.

 “Go in that car and win this race. For me”, she held his face between her hands and squeezed it carefully, assuring him that they were okay, at least for now. Lando was so happy that he pulled her back to the hug.

“For you, anything”, he kissed her forehead, knowing a proper kiss would be too far. “I promise that after the race, I have so much to talk to you about”.

“Don’t worry about it now, okay?”, she searched for his hands and gave it a squeeze. “We’ll talk later”.

Lando couldn’t let go off Y/N after that. They still were very quiet around each other, but it was a relief to have her hands laced with his all the time. Even better to have his arms wrapped around her as they cuddled in his driver’s room during his break. And you can bet he felt amazing when she pressed a kiss to his cheek before helping put on his balaclava.

“Good luck, Lan”, she whispered in his ear as he pulled him for a hug. “I trust you”.

And with the words he has been waiting for months to hear, Lando went into his car with the boost of confidence he needed. So far, he hadn’t won a race in Formula 1, but he had been so close for a lot of weekends. Always P2, never the winner. But now he had the confidence who could make him pass anyone in front of him. He was going to win for Y/N, just because she asked him to. So when he crossed the chequered flag before any other driver, he felt his entire life flash right in front of his eyes. Every sweat and tears dropped for this moment, who had been a long time coming. All these years had finally paid off.

Once he parked the car, everything moved in slow motion for him. The mechanics pulling him in for a hug, and all the other drivers who came to congratulate him as well. It could be a scene taken out of a film, quite easily. And when Lando saw Y/N standing right next to Zak Brown behind the barricade, he could feel his heart at his mouth. She was drowning in proud tears, applauding him with all of her strength. So he didn’t care about anyone else who was calling his name; he simply approached her and gave her the biggest kiss they ever shared. 

It’s been only a couple of days since he had last kissed them, but Lando missed her lips as if it had been a year since he last did it. And with that, he felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders, knowing everything was finally alright. His reputation was saved, he had a race win, and he had his favourite girl right there with him. It couldn’t get better than that.

Lando chased her lips once she tried to break off the kiss, not wanting to let go off her yet. But she managed to separate them between giggles. “My P1. I’m so proud of you, Lan, congratulations!”

“I love you”, he mumbled against her lips. “I love you so fucking much”.

Y/N didn’t say it back right at that moment, because there’s still a lot that needed to be said between them before those three words. But she kissed him again, and it said it all. She didn't have to say she loves him because Lando knew it. Looking into her eyes, tasting her on his lips, he knew she felt the same. So he didn’t care about getting no response, because he knew it all in his heart.

“I’ll be back in the blink of an eye. I promise you”, Lando pressed another quick peck to her lips before proceeding with everything he’s required to after the race.

Lando stood on the tallest step of the podium and raised his trophy as high as he could. He splashed his champagne bottle to make a mess on everyone, spotting Y/N on the ground and spraying the liquid far enough to reach her downstairs. He was glowing, and anyone could see that. It showed through the pictures, the interviews, the small talks with people from his team. McLaren made sure the debrief was short so they could all go celebrating the moment that has been a long time coming.

He was ready to party, but there was one more thing left to do.

“You stink of champagne”, Y/N was giggling between his arms. He was spinning her around as they walked into his hotel room, finally having some time along after the race. Nothing could kill the big smile he had stamped on his face.

“Smell it. It’s Chanel”, he joked, pulling Y/N for another kiss. Lando had her pressed against the door once it was close, and it felt too good to have his breath taken away once again by her kisses. He wanted to touch her everywhere just to know she was really there, but once his hands darted under her dress, she stopped him there.

“Not now, Lan. We still have a lot to talk before all of this”, she broke off the kiss, and he agreed with a nod. Suddenly, he was nervous once again, knowing the talk they needed to have had the potential to fix or fuck everything. “Hey, where’s that big smile you were giving me before? I miss it”.

“It is terrified of losing you”, he admitted, making Y/N’s eyes soften for him. She rubbed her thumbs on his cheeks and pouted, making him open a small grin once again. “But you’re right, we need to talk”.

“We don’t need to do this right now, Lando”, she said as he pulled her to sit in bed. He cut her before she said anything else.

“But I want to”, he said, pulling her hands to entwine with his. “Listen, I don’t think any amount of words can fix what I did to you in the past, but I'm very, very sorry. For every bad thing I said about you and every time I mistreated you. Y/N, you never deserved to hear those words from anyone, and I'm sorry I took too long to realize that”.

Y/N nodded and waited quietly while listening to what he had to say. But she could tell that he was nervous, so she encouraged him by rubbing her thumbs on the back of his hand. Lando looked down and smiled at the gesture. It showed how much she cared about him, even though he keeps fucking her up.

“You jumped into this crazy idea just to help me in the blink of an eye, and I never showed you gratitude. Even when I didn’t deserve, you were kind, and you took care of me. And I kept breaking your heart over and over again”, he admitted. “And I regret all of that. I'm so sorry, and I promise you, I'll change”.

“You already have changed”, she ran her fingers through his curls and looked between his eyes. “I know you have, Lando, or else I wouldn't have opened up to you. I just couldn’t bring myself to believe that it was really happening. So I tried to shield myself as much as I could from falling in love with you”.

Lando nodded, a little sad to know that he hurt this relationship so much that she tried not to feel anything for him. But it was nice knowing she felt the same all along, even though they needed some healing.

“And I know you're not the idiot you used to be with me. I understand that you changed and, for you, I would do anything. I would do it all again if I had too”.

“I'm sorry for being so selfish. I was so busy thinking about myself that I forgot how much I had hurt you in the past. I forgot to apologize, and I thought that giving you flowers and kisses would be enough to mend a broken relationship from the start. I was willing to do anything to make you trust me that I forgot the most important part of it all”.

“You understand my point, right?”, she asked, and he agreed with his head. “You showed me that you’re someone worthy of loving, but I just couldn’t trust you at all, because you never showed regret. But now, looking you in the eye, I know that you truly are sorry”.

“I regret every bad word I ever said about you”, he assured. “I think I made my point very clear, but I want to assure you that this thing we have, with sex and the ‘enemies with benefits’, was never just that for me. I would always have that tingle in my heart whenever I was intimate with you and with all the little nice interactions we had, my ice heart started melting for you”.

“Trust me, I know the feeling”, she assured him between giggles. “I also have to apologize to you. The insults weren’t one-sided. And I know you might think it’s all your fault now, but we both know I was a bitch to you as well. So to start in the right place, I have to say, I’m sorry too”.

“Well… I deserved it”, he shrugged, hanging his head down, but Y/N softly brought it up by taking it between her hands.

“No, you didn’t, Lando. You filled me with compliments, and now it’s your turn to take them”, she said. “You also have the kindest heart in the world. You take care of people, and you’re always the energy in the room. You’ve taken care of me on times I needed, and you brought light into my days. You taught me the purest form of love. You make me laugh, and you make me feel like a princess whenever I feel like I'm a monster. You're a good person, Lando. So if anyone is a bitch to you, they better apologize”.

“I used to be so scare of love, but you make it so easy”, Lando looked at her with adoration in his eyes, feeling so great to have his face between her hands. “I love you so much”.

She smiled at him, knowing for sure that now it was safe to say it back. With her eyes filled with tears, she admitted: “I love you so much too, Norris”. 

Y/N pulled him for a sweet kiss, finally pouring all the feelings she had for him into her actions. And he savoured every single second of finally having his dream girl all to myself. Lando slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her even closer.

“I thought I had lost you”, he whispered against her lips, feeling his eyes welling up with tears of relief. He felt it all too hard in his chest. “I'm so glad you're here with me”.

“Yeah, I thought we were doomed”, she admitted too, lacing their fingers together and giving his hand a squeeze. “But love always finds a way”.

“For you, I'll hang the stars in the sky, only to bring them back down if you want them back”, he confessed, now pulling her face between his hands. “I hope we can finally stop with the PR thing, or the friends with benefits thing, or whatever other stupid label between us, and properly be a couple”.

She giggled with him and nodded in agreement. “I want it all with you, Lan. You and me, to the end of times”.

“Forever, my love”, he pulled her for a hug and pressed countless kisses to the top of her head. “Also, now that you’re finally talking to me, congratulations again on your Emmy nomination. I’ve never been so proud of you”, he poked her sides and she laughed with his actions.

“Thank you, love”, she kissed his nose, making him blush a little.

“I’ll never get enough of praising you for this. I was so happy when I heard the news. I knew you were extraordinary, and it was just a matter of time until they recognized it”, he affirmed. “I almost exploded for not getting to celebrate it with you”.

“To be fair, I celebrated it crying alone in my room”, she confessed between laughs. Lando's heart faltered at the confession and his smile dropped. Y/N deserved a proper celebration to this incredible achievement in her career.

“You're kidding, right? So we have three things to celebrate tonight”, he said, making Y/N frown in confusion.

 “What's the third thing to celebrate?”

“My grand prix win, your nomination and our love, now very much official”, he cracked a smile, making her laugh with his statement. Y/N just had to pull him for another hug and lots of cheek kisses.

“You’re so adorable”.

“Come on, let’s get ready. We have a party to go to”.

As she watched him waltz into the bathroom for a shower, all smiley and happy, Y/N felt her heart lighter again. Everything was exactly where she wished for it to be, and she could finally enjoy it all with him. Love is weird, and sometimes it blossoms in places you would never expect. But it’s good to know you’re loved back, especially by someone as amazing as Lando. In the end, love always makes it right.

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

⤳ 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 - @celestialams @lizaschronicles @kapsylia @igotnorrrizz @hiireadstuff @bishhhitsaurion @mrsmaybank13 @bborra @sltwins @riccdannyf1 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @ctrlyomomma @lan4cha16 @alltoomaples @ellen3101 @hellyesjaehyun @tastebaldwin @sweate-r-weathe-r @carmenita122 @m0cha-bunny @lqvesoph @itscrzy @fangirlvibez @poppyflower-22 @livelovesports @logischeroktopus @happy-jj @saturnbloom77 @cmleitora @formulaal @secretgal66 @taisferrari-blog @sunsshinesunny @eclipsedcherry @tems13 @readingbringsjoy @naanibubbletimmispeach @kenzeyeballs @alilcloudy @architect-2015 @tillyt04 @eringaitskill @honeyhatty12 @dreamercrowd @demig0d0fapollo @mxmtewnz @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @beyond-the-ashes @ijustgomessitupx @floraav @laiba26mindflay3r @books0fever @marialovesf1 @sltwins @ourteenagetragedy @katieschry1 @loveofmylife12 @diaa-20 @urfavsgf @chilisandmilk @elleeeee21 @likedbygaslyy @notturlover @c-losur3 @brizzy-xo @gorgrussell @ellasaddiction2 @morketheduck @kravitzwhore @darkacademicvibes @jenna123456789 @crispymcniall @minkyungseokie @theovalentine @arsyao @phantomxoxo @noobmaster6931 @ohlahlaa @c0rpsecore @rafegirly @darleneslane @annalisenelson @nataliambc @amorydsmt @slytherinholland

crossed means i can't tag you! dm me and maybe we can get it fixed

#delicate #lando norris #lando norris fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris fake dating #lando norris fwb #lando norris x famous!reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #lando norris angst #ln4 x you #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lando norris enemies to lovers