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auroraesmeraldarose · 4 months

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Rafael/Coral Island fanfic pt4

It’s soft, it’s squishy, and it’s INFURIATING. I’m the one writing this shit and I’m still annoyed, just KISS ALREADY. There are definitely errors, as in all of these, because I’m secretly writing this on my iPad while pretending to mark exams. But here we are, twirling our hair kicking our feet and giggling etc.

Enjoy you little simps 😘

/////

Things were definitely getting easier for Rose. Her first crops were sprouting, and she’d even found time to do a little exploring in the mines. She didn’t go deep, because apparently there were all kinds of creatures down there, but she’d already pulled up a backpack full of what the internet had told her were likely to be geodes. Maybe there would be something priceless in there… or maybe at least a few samples that would interest Scott at the museum. That would be cool too, and more realistic. She had tried to break a few open, but between the cracks in her hands from working in all weathers and her complete lack of knowledge she’d decided she’d have to go and see the Sanchez boys instead. They’d seen each other quite a lot in the last couple of weeks. She still had a huge crush on Rafael, but things had been pretty much all business recently. She’d been busy on the farm, and he and Pablo had really helped by fixing and improving all of her tools… well, Rafael had helped fix them, Pablo had mainly chatted and tried to flirt, and taken her money. She hadn’t exactly been avoiding them, but was trying to focus on the farm. Being around Rafael was… distracting.

This, however, was definitely a job for a man with a big hammer -ha! Pablo would have loved that. She laughed to herself at the innuendo, and tried to put all thoughts of Rafael, and his “big hammer” from her mind. Throwing the heavy stack of rocks back into her backpack, she started off to the blacksmiths.

When she arrived, Pablo was nowhere to be seen… of course, sometimes they split shifts when it was quiet, so they could each enjoy mornings and afternoons off, and she guessed he was in the tavern, or on a date, or causing trouble somewhere. Rafael was behind the counter rather than at the anvil for once, and seemed to be sketching out some kind of plan or design for a tool or weapon.

“Hey hero!” She called to Rafael as she entered, grinning at him. He had got used to her greeting him like that, although she never did it when Pablo was around. She had a feeling if he heard her say it, it would be utilised as brotherly torture, and Pablo tortured Rafael enough as it was; Rafael was very glad she kept it between them.

“Hi Rose,” he smiled, pushing his work to one side as she staggered towards the counter with her heavy bag, “what can I do for you?”

She tried to stop the thought that played instantly across her mind; oh, so many things you could do for me… but it was too quick. She felt the blush that seemed to just be a part of her seeing him rising again and tried to heave the bag onto the counter between them, hoping the crash would chase the thought away.

“Geodes!” She exclaimed with a mix of pride and excitement. “I tried to get them open myself but my hands are wrecked from working outside, and I just don’t have the skill.” He pulled the bag onto the counter, freeing her hands, and she turned them palm up for him to see.

“Can you believe I used to have decent hands?” She asked sadly, “I had really long nails, I used to get them done all the time… and rings! I had the most beautiful collection of rings in all shades of gold and green, but there’s just no point in wearing rings now.” She sighed, turning her hands in the light and examining the deep cracks in her palms.

“They’re still decent hands,” Rafael mumbled, nervous as ever about talking to her, and especially saying anything that came close to a compliment. “Just, a little… uhm… overworked.” He made a gesture that somehow combined half a shrug with half a smile. “That’s why I wear the gloves all the time now… My hands used to get wrecked from working in the forge all day. Charles gave me this great stuff for cracked hands though - hang on, I think I still have some of it upstairs!” He jumped from the seat and bounded lightly up the stairs behind him before she could say a word. Within a minute he was back, carrying a small jar that looked even smaller in his huge hands.

“Here, let me try it - it should help!” He reached a hand out for Rose to place hers into, all the usual awkwardness between them gone in a moment where he seemed unusually confident. She had seen this though; he could be as meek as a lamb, bashful and stammering, but give him a task he knew he could do and somehow that disappeared. He dabbed a finger in the sweet smelling mixture, then gently rubbed it into the cracks in Rose’s outstretched palm. It was kind of funny, how they were constantly aware of even the tiniest bit of physical contact between each other, but kept ending up in these oddly intimate moments of touch. Rose winced as he reached a particularly sore part. “Sorry,” he mumbled, embarrassment returning, going pink again, “but I’m sure it’ll help.” His movements were even gentler after that, slower too, barely touching her skin. She tried hard not to think about how his fingers felt on her hands, and tried even harder not to think how that would feel on any other part of her body. By now she knew her face had to be bright red, and with the hand he wasn’t treating she reached up to fiddle with her necklace.

“Sorry, am I, uhm…” he stopped and let go of her hand, glancing at her other hand on the necklace. She dropped it quickly, even more embarrassed that he had noticed her embarrassment. Sometimes she forgot that although she watched him, and knew lots of his little tells of nervousness, he could be watching her too.

“No, sorry. Nervous habit.” She smiled, praying the fact that the reddish light from the forge might cover up some of the blush.

“Didn’t mean to uhm… make you… uhm… nervous…” Rafael moved back, and put the lid on the jar, not meeting her eyes. “Take it with you, it’ll help.” He pushed the jar across the counter.

“Oh, no, you don’t, I mean, you didn’t…” she trailed off, annoyed that she had ruined such a tender moment between them. He just smiled kind of sadly without looking at her, and grabbed one arm with the other. Damn it!

“It feels better already!” She tried to lighten the tense atmosphere. “See, still a hero! Is there anything you can’t fix?” She laughed, and his face brightened a little, even as the blush continued on both of their faces.

He turned back to the bag “So, about these geodes…?” At his prompting, she slid the heavy bag back across the counter until they were in front of them both, and the geodes within clinked.

“You probably shouldn’t be carrying all that around,” he laughed, picking the extremely heavy bag up in one hand as if it was empty. Goddess, he was strong, as if she needed reminding. He carried it over to the anvil, where he plonked the bag down and gestured to it.

“Do you mind if I just…?” He waited for her response, but she seemed confused. “Uhm… Ma told me never to go in a ladies’ bag,” he laughed shyly, shrugging, realising how stupid it sounded in the circumstances.

Rose laughed in return, “Go ahead - not sure I count as much of a lady anyway! Did she also tell you to never ask a ladies’ age or weight too?” She teased, as she joined him at the anvil.

“Of course! Mama Sanchez raised gentlemen… uhm… well, one gentleman, and one Pablo!” They laughed together at that, and he reached into the bag for the first geode.

Rose enjoyed watching him deftly crack them open with just a tap of the hammer; both for the satisfaction of seeing them break open, and because seeing Rafael at work, in his element, was… well, a different kind of satisfying. He appraised each geode he cracked; lots of coal, a few empty rocks, and a few pretty gems too.

“This one is an emerald!” He exclaimed, showing her the inside, “a decent one too!”

“I love emeralds, they’ve always been my favourites,” she sighed, stroking the deep green stone. “But it’s off to the museum with this one. Maybe the next one I’ll keep, and learn to make jewellery with it or something!” She smiled and sighed a little sadly, adding “As if I’d ever find the time or the energy…”

“I like onyx best,” he said, thoughtfully. “Don’t know why, but I’ve always liked it.” He paused, as if considering something, before continuing “And uhm, if you get more emeralds I’ll give you a great price for them!” He looked enthusiastic, but with the usual hint of bashfulness too. Was that another blush on his neck, or was it the light? She shook the thought from her mind, and promised if she got anything the museum didn’t want he had first pick. Especially if he’d pay!

By the time he’d finished, she had a stack of semi-useful bits, and some gems for the museum. There had even been a second emerald, which Rafael had gladly bought from her for what she thought was probably more than he should have. The smile on his face when she handed it back to him confused her… she was sure it couldn’t be worth the amount of gold she’d been given, but hey, if he was happy, who cares, she needed the money! He carefully deposited the spoils back in her bag, which was thankfully a little lighter now, and she left for the museum feeling proud of all she’d gathered. She was just about to leave, when Rafael called her back, his neck pink with a blush that hadn’t quite reached his face yet. He had one arm holding the other again.

“Rose?”

She turned at the sound of his slightly nervous voice, and looked questioningly at him.

“Be uhm… careful, yeah? The mines are uhm… pretty dangerous, deeper down. Uhm…” the blush had reached his face now and was like a wildfire. “If you want me to uhm… come with you, uhm… so you can, you know, mine and I’ll… uhm…” he trailed off.

Beaming at his offer, her blush matching his, she replied “Rafael the hero, again,” she loved the way his face lit up when she called him that. “I’m not going too far at the moment anyway, I haven’t got the time or inclination to fight, but if I do, you’re my bodyguard, right?”

The blush had reached his ears as he nodded in wordless reply.

“Thanks again, hero!” She bounced out of the doorway, the pleasure from her finds outstripped by the pleasure of seeing him smile at her the way he did.

When she had gone, Rafael cleaned up the workshop, took a shower, and returned to the emerald. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking, when he had decided to buy it from her. He had a wild idea, that he could make something beautiful for her with it, if he could just work up the courage. The work itself would be easy, if a little more intricate than he was used to, but he wasn’t afraid of that. He blushed, despite being alone, at the thought of him handing her some beautiful jewel and her responding by throwing herself into his arms. Ridiculous. He’d barely known her, what, a month or two? Shaking his head, he figured he could always make it, and then… well, if he didn’t want to give it to her, he didn’t have to. He could sell it, or maybe give it anonymously, or get Pablo to do it, or… no, definitely not get Pablo to do it. Well, he had plenty of time to figure that out; what he had in mind would take weeks, probably months. Especially as he didn’t want to be caught working on it by Pablo or Rose. He took a sketch pad and the emerald up to the desk in his bedroom, shut the door behind him, and became instantly absorbed in sketching designs of golden honeybees resting on emerald leaves.

#coral island rafael #fanfic #rafael coral island #coral island #fluff #i'm procrastinating #I’ve got problems

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tenrose · 3 months

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Was having this mental knot in my brain that his this work shift thing. And like yes I would love to work night shift and my two colleagues wants that too. And that's a problem because our specific work can't be done after a certain hour. So if we all change our shift we effectively aren't part of our little anymore. And that's kind of a treason to our supervisors, tbh they might even be against it and we might not be able to do it. But what's fucking annoying is that our little team shouldn't even be in that fucking massive shift in the service because we are apart. Like our work is apart and pretty much everyone forget about us except when they need us. But yeah we know to do a lot of stuff unfortunately. And that's the thing that has been pushing my mental resistance on the borderline for years. Because yes our job doesn't require presence on Saturdays but we have to work on Saturday for the other team that's much bigger since it's the main work. And yes that big team often have no more work to do and wait for hours until the end of their shift, while us, we work with our colleagues downstairs because we have the competencies to do so. So basically we've been sitting between two chairs for hours. Not to mention they want to fucking move us downstairs, with the cold, the machinery and the delivery entrance but we should have to do their stupid ass changing shift every week? When a part of our team have fixed shifts (at least fixed clock in hours) because it is required since we rely on post office hours. It would be so much simpler if we were treated as a whole part of the team and not a fucking half when it's convenient. Like personally even if I'm not a morning person I think it would make much more sense that we're fixed on the earliest shift, and only help others when we're done with our job and not on fucking Saturdays (especially when there's barely enough work on the week anyway) and call it a day.

Beside the wage for night shift isn't apparently even that good anyway.

And also, if we have a night shift team it means our supervisors will be forced to have different shifts every week and they can't say no since they are the supervisors and they're like understaffed since... Well nobody wants to do their job cause they are treated like shit by the fucking invisible management currently pulling this whole shit and for like... Maybe 200€ more than us?

So idk what to do and I'm having headaches from overthinking.

#misc #sorry im gonna be annoying about thar for a while until we have clear sight #oh abd by the way #this shit is supposed to start in two weeks #and we have no planning because nobody has any idea how to organise this fucking mess 🤡#and management as usual is hiding

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professorrw · 3 years

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Don't Fake It

marvel masterlist

Pairing: female reader x Peter Quill

Request: peter starts getting frisky with the reader but shes tired and isn’t really in the mood. He would never pressure her or anything but she wants to make him happy and feels bad saying no, so she does it and fakes her orgasm just to get it over with. Later, he somehow finds out (or knew all along, you decide) that she faked it and of course his ego is bruised and he’s kinda annoyed, but also feels guilty she didn’t tell him how she felt. So the next night, she starts coming onto him and he makes damn sure she never fakes it again. Then after, she apologizes for faking it and it gets kinda fluffy because hes like “hey, its not good for me if you’re not having as much fun as I am. I have a right hand if i’m that desperate.”

Warnings: smut, 18+, fluff, faking an orgasm, protected sex, rough sex

A/N: Requests open, taglist open, inbox open! Please like, comment, and reblog!

Sleep was calling your name, digging its claws into you and dragging you into the dark depths of slumber. But there was something stopping it. That thing was Peter. He was wide awake and his sex drive was in full throttle. You weren’t feeling up to it though. The long day at work had taken a toll on you, and the only thing you wanted to do was go to sleep.

You loved Peter, everything about him. You didn’t want to deny him sex, especially when he was being so sweet about it. Your back was to him so he could cuddle you while you slept, but he started to kiss your shoulders and the part of your back that was exposed by your tank top.

“Mmm what is it baby?” you asked groggily.

“I want you,” he replied unashamedly. You could feel Quill shifting his weight behind you. He was peering over your shoulder, trying to look at you. He had missed you all day and you were finally home. What he didn’t know was that you were tired, and not in the mood.

“Oh really?” you mumbled.

“Mhm, I missed you today.” You couldn’t see him but by his sweet tone of voice you could tell that he was sticking his bottom lip out and giving you puppy dog eyes. You smiled and turned around, cupping his face in your hands.

"You know you're adorable right?" you teased.

He smiled, "I know, that's why you can't resist all of this." He wiggled his eyebrows, making you laugh. He was just too cute. You didn't want to tell him no.

When you stopped laughing he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss quickly elevated, his hand snaking up your tight shirt and pressing heat against your lower abdomen. While your eyes were closed, sleep called your name once more, but you ignored it.

Peter pulled back for a minute and reached over to the night stand. He grabbed a condom and pulled his boxers down and put it on, tossing the wrapper back onto the table. He switched positions and crawled on top of you. His face drew closer and he kissed you while he pulled down your sweat shorts.

He got the lube too and squirted some on his covered dick and rubbed the leftovers around near your entrance. With dick in hand he guided his length into you, easing it in as to not hurt you. He let out a long sigh when he got to moving. At least he was feeling good, you thought. Peter was making you feel good too, but you were so tired that if it weren't for the movement you would have fallen asleep.

The pleasure wasn't building like it usually did. You wanted to cum, you wanted to show Peter that he was doing a good job. But you weren't feeling it, and you knew you weren't going to cum. You didn't want to hurt Peter's feelings so as he reached his peak speed and his head lolled back you moaned extra loud, "I'm gonna cum!"

"Me too," he groaned back. His hips pounded into you and his balls slapped against you as he came in his condom. You kept on moaning a little, acting like you had actually cum too.

Peter slowed then pulled out. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and went to the bathroom to clean up. He went to take his condom off and realized there was no cum on the outside of it. You said you had cum, but there wasn't anything other than lube on there. Quill didn't want to assume you had faked it, but he didn't want to ask right away either.

He threw the condom away and went back to your bedroom. You were already out cold, and when Peter saw he sighed and crawled into bed, completely dejected. He was embarrassed that he couldn’t make you cum, and a little annoyed that you wouldn’t just tell him. But he let those thoughts drift away so he could fall asleep.

The next morning you woke up early for work again. Peter was still asleep so you didn’t wake him and instead went about your morning routine. Three minutes before you needed to leave you wrote a little note on the refrigerator for him, “I hope you slept well hunny, I’ve already left for work by the time you wake up but I just wanted to say I love you and I’ll see you later <3”

About an hour later Quill rolled out of bed and dragged himself into the kitchen. He wasn’t a morning person by any means. The coffee machine beeped and he pushed himself off of the counter to pour himself a cup. He set his mug down on the counter and went to the refrigerator to get milk and creamer. Your note, which he noticed just then, made him stop mid pull. He shut the refrigerator and took the note off so he could get a better look at it. A tired smile spread on his face.

Then he remembered last night. It was odd that there wasn’t anything on his condom, and you didn’t get up to clean yourself off right after he did. Now that he thought about it, you went straight to sleep. How unusual. He pushed the thought aside and decided he would bring it up later. It wasn’t making him mad, but he was a little wounded that you had faked it, or if you even did fake it.

Lucky for you, work was slow and you got off early. On the way home you picked up lunch for you and Peter. It was in a way an apology for your tiredness last night and faking your orgasm, whether he knew about it or not.

Keys jingling together you unlock the door and step in with takeout in hand. “Quill I’m home!” you shout.

He power walks out of the bedroom and just about tackles you into a bear hug. You giggle and kiss his stubbled cheek. “I missed you,” you say into his ear.

“I missed you moooore,” he replies. “How was work?”

“Better than yesterday, I’ll tell you that. Plus I got off early, so that’s even better. I get to spend more time with you.” You kiss his cheek again and he smiles before setting you back down. The food gets set on the kitchen counter and you pull out the chinese you got. You hand Peter his usual order and take out your own.

There’s only the quiet sound of eating for a few minutes before Peter says something. “Y/N I need to ask you something.”

You look over at him. He rarely calls you by your first name. That means he’s being serious. “What is it?”

He wants to ask about your orgasm but you’re right in the middle of eating and he doesn’t want to interrupt you. He can just ask later, he thinks to himself. He thinks of something else to ask and quickly thinks of, “Can you pass me some soy sauce?”

You quirk an eyebrow at him but hand him a few packs and go back to eating.

Later that night, a few hours later, you were laying in bed doing nothing in particular. Thoughts of last night were filling both your heads. Peter was set on trying to ask you about it, and you were set on trying to make up for it.

The both of you were sitting up in bed and you set your phone down on your bedside table and leaned over. You set a hand on Peter’s bare chest and he instantly stopped what he was doing. His eyes shot to yours, a sly smile on your face. He could tell exactly what it was you wanted.

“Peter,” you whispered against his lips. Your mouth was an inch away from his and your eyes were drifting between his and his lips. He parted his mouth and leaned forward, capturing you before you could make a move. You were trying to take the lead, but he wasn’t letting you.

He overpowered you, flipping you around and putting you on your knees. His bulge was against your ass and he was rubbing circles against it. The intensity he was showing was like nothing before. Whatever it was that was riling him up you needed to find out. It would have to wait until later though, because your panties being dragged down your thighs was the only thing you could think of.

A condom and lube had already been taken out of the drawer, and Peter was putting them on. The room was silent other than the rustling of sheets and your heart hammering in your chest. Then there was the squirting of the lube and you knew it was about to come. The cold goo was smeared on your folds and slightly inside of them by Quill’s rough fingers.

His tip, covered by a condom, was right at your entrance in a second, and in just one more, it was inside you. Your whole body was pushed forward with the force that Peter was thrusting. You were moaning and panting, and he was smiling between his own groans. His goal was to make sure you never had to fake an orgasm again. And with the way things were going you wouldn’t need to.

“Oh- Oh my god!” The way he was slamming into you was so quick and hard the pressure inside of you was building like a balloon being blown up.

His hands were holding you and keeping you from falling over. If they weren’t you would have smacked into the headboard. You couldn’t stay on your hands any longer, you dropped to your elbows, back making a beautiful arch for Quill.

The unbearable speed was tiring Quill out, but it was also making his orgasm come even quicker. He grabbed your shoulders, giving himself even more leverage to thrust with.

Your knees were trembling, jelly below you. But you wouldn’t have to hold that position for much longer. That balloon inside you popped like too much air had been blown into it. Your walls clenched around Peter’s cock, and the cum he was searching for yesterday covered his condom. He kept his pace, legs killing him and pelvis hitting your ass.

He let out a loud groan, and cum leaked and squirted from his tip. He let go of your shoulders, seeing a red handprint there. He pulled out of you, your cum dribbling out when he did. He smiled, satisfied that he had done what he set out to do.

Your lower half ached and you all but collapsed onto your pillows. You flipped over and saw Peter above you, buttcheeks against the heels of his feet and catching his breath. You laughed just a little and he opened his eyes.

“What?” he asked.

“That was something else,” you admitted with a smile.

“Good.” He crawled onto his stomach and laid next to you with his head on his arms. You scooted over closer to him, laying on your back with your hands set on your stomach.

“Y/N,” he sat up, “last night,” he started.

“I already know what you’re going to say. I’m sorry. I should have told you. I was just super tired last night and I didn’t want to deny you.” You looked down at your stomach but Peter turned your face back to his with his thumb.

“It’s okay, really. I’m sorry I didn’t catch that you weren’t in the mood. If you ever don’t want to do stuff just tell me okay? I won’t be upset. Besides, it’s not good for me if you aren’t having as much fun as I am. I have a right hand if I get that desperate.” He waved his right hand and grinned.

You giggled, “I promise I won’t do it again.”

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iliveiloveiwrite · 3 years

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A Truth Universally Acknowledged // Anthony Bridgerton

Request: Hi angel! I love all of your stories, especially your Bridgerton and work! Is there any way you could write something soft and fluffy for Anthony and a female reader! PLEASE AND THANK YOU - Anon.

A/N: I haven’t written for Anthony in what seems like forever! As much as I love Benedict, I do love writing Anthony fics. This isn't overly long, I just wanted to write something soft and fluffy that’s entirely domestic as well. I hope you all like! Title is a quote from the first line of Pride and Prejudice (further quotes from the book are in italics).

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader.

Warnings: none - fluff, books, marriage, happy relationships, cute.

Word Count: 1.6k

The house is silent as Anthony strides through the waiting, open door. He nods his greeting to the Butler, Wilkins, before letting the weariness that had haunted him all day settle over his bones.

“Wilkins?” Anthony asks; no need to voice the question. Wilkins knows.

“Lady Bridgerton is in the Green-and-Gold, sir.”

Anthony smiles at the Butler. “You really do know everything.”

Wilkins smiles; nods his head. “It is my job, sir. Lady Bridgerton has already told me that you will take your final meal of the day in there, too.”

Anthony takes the stairs two at a time; refusing to accept his laboured breathing by the time he reaches the top. He was not an old man yet; he was still a very active man.

Turning left, he wanders blindly to the Green-and-Gold room named for the colour scheme of the walls and the furniture. His late grandmother had decorated the room; so fondly remembered by her ancestors that each refused to change a thing in the room save for any upholstering that needed to be done occasionally.

He finds you sitting on the left hand side of the room; the comfier side as argued by everyone who visits the room. Your legs are curled underneath you as your eyes pour over the page of an open book in your lap. From here, Anthony cannot possibly hazard a guess as to what you might be reading, but he feels a twinge of jealousy at the attention being paid to the book and not to him.

Well, love makes fools of us all, Anthony thinks to himself. “Darling,” Anthony greets in one single breath, as if the sight of you makes it all the easier for him to breathe.

“Darling,” You smile, standing from your seat, coming to greet the man you love with every fibre of your being. “How was your day?”

Anthony groans as he removes his jacket before tugging at the knot of his cravat. “Long,” He complains, struggling with the neckpiece. You smile at your husband, batting his hands away from his neck so you can take over. You feel the heat of his gaze as your hands work to do undo the knot he had tightened with a single tug; as the fabric unravels under your nimble fingers your husband reaches out to squeeze your waist.

“Thank you,” He whispers, voice full with an emotion you can’t quite decipher. Love? Weariness? A combination of both? Anthony looked ragged as you run your eyes over his face.

“I’m sorry that your day has been taxing, my love.”

“It’s all the better now that I’m here with you.”

“Flatterer,” You tease with no real heat behind your words. Anthony beams at you; eyes crinkling in the corners from the force of it as his hands tighten on your waist and his head dips to capture your lips in the kiss he has been thinking about for the better part of his day.

Breaking away, Anthony plants one, two, three kisses to your lips in quick, chaste succession leaving you breathless and highly amused. “How was your day?” He asks, curious as ever to find out what his wife does when he isn’t at home to distract you.

“Dull,” You answer plainly, enjoying the feel of Anthony’s strong arms around you.

“Dull?”

You purse your lips, thinking over your plans for the day so far. “I suppose dull doesn’t work. It hasn’t been dull at all.”

“Oh?”

“I’m only saying it because I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” He murmurs, kissing you once more. “What are you reading?” Anthony asks when he pulls away, spying the book laid delicately on the couch.

“Eloise let me borrow it. She gave me it when I called to see her this morning,” You answer, leaving the comfort of Anthony’s arms to take your seat on the couch.

“Darling, you know we have an entire library full of books, don’t you?”

Fixing him with an unimpressed look, you counter, “Your sister read this and thought of me. The least I could do is read it.”

“Alright,” Anthony sighs, knowing a losing battle when he sees one. “Budge up.”

“Pardon?”

Anthony gestures to the couch. “Make some room for me.”

A puzzled look settles across your face, but you follow the request, nonetheless, shifting on the couch so Anthony has room to sit down.

Anthony settles with his head on your lap; offering you a self-satisfied smile when you raise an eyebrow at him. “Comfy?” You ask, voice laced with humour.

“Very,” He responds. “Will you start from the beginning? I don’t want to miss anything.”

Chuntering about high maintenance husbands, you mark the page you got to before returning to the beginning. “Anything else before I begin?”

“Nothing… Oh, one thing.”

“That is?”

“I love you.”

Any previous ire you felt towards your husband disappears at those three magical words. The frustrated slant to your brow evens out as you reach out to stroke a hand through his hair and down the side of his face.

“I love you too,” You answer earnestly, feeling the power of the emotion running through you.

A peaceful look crosses Anthony’s face as your words sink into his skin like a balm on an open wound. He had felt neglectful lately; not spending as much time at home as he would have liked. He felt bad for leaving you so alone. Without children, you were your own companion throughout the day, and whilst you had both discussed having children, Anthony was to be left mildly vexed at the thought of you spending your days alone until a child was born.

The opening of parliament combined with Anthony’s seat in the House meant that he was spending more and more time in Westminster and less time with you.

A ratio Anthony was not fond of.

“I’m ready when you are,” He whispers; eyes focused on your face so he can watch every reaction and see every syllable leave your mouth.

Flashing an annoyed look at your husband, you take a deep breath and begin:

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”

“What?” Anthony asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Hush,” You admonish half-heartedly before continuing.

“However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.”

“This author is a genius,” Anthony exclaims, his voice awed as he tries to catch a glimpse of the cover to see the author’s name. “Who wrote this?”

“Are you going to comment the whole way through? I’ve barely read two paragraphs.”

“Sorry, darling, but I have to know. Who wrote this?”

“Her name is Jane Austen.”

“Well Jane Austen is a genius. In two paragraphs she’s captured what it is like to be a single man with a fortune in and amongst the sharks with unattached daughters.”

“Sharks?” You ask, highly amused at your husband’s words.

“Mothers,” Anthony shudders, remembering what it was like to go through so many seasons still unmarried. A Viscount with two seats of power combined with a hefty ancestral fortune – many mothers didn’t care whether Anthony would love their daughters; they simply wanted a fortuitus marriage that would leave them set for life.

Anthony thanks any and all gods and deities out there that he found his love match in you. You had taken him by surprise; Anthony had already resigned himself to a season with countless mothers forcing their daughters onto his arm. Until one evening early into the season, he had been listening to Gregory whine about the workload at Eton when his eyes met yours from across the room. In a total state of cliché, Anthony met your gaze, and he knew. He knew that he was going to spend the rest of his life loving you, worshipping you. He knew that whatever his future held, you would be right there weathering it alongside him. In a single glance from across the room, he knew.

You were married before the season finished; a special licence dispensed after a favour from the Archbishop called in. Anthony couldn’t wait; didn’t want to wait – he wanted to start the rest of his life with you as soon as possible.

Your light laughter breaks Anthony out of his reverie. “They aren’t all that bad,” You argue. “I suspect you’ll be worse than me when it comes to our children.”

Anthony snorts; doubting your words but loving the way you speak so openly about your hopeful future family. Clearing your throat, you continue to read on.

Anthony settles further into your lap; letting the calmness of your voice wash over him. After a moment of watching the concentration on your face, Anthony lets his eyes slip closed. He has no intention of falling asleep; he simply wants to enjoy this moment to its fullest.

“Mr Bingley was good looking and gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women, with an air of decided fashion. His brother-in-law, Mr Hurst, merely looked the gentleman; but his friend Mr Darcy soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features…”

A snore interrupts your rendition of Pride and Prejudice. Pausing mid-sentence, you look down to your lap where Anthony has fallen asleep so peacefully. Smiling softly at the man, you close the book, placing it to one side before running a hand through Anthony’s ever-unruly hair. He hums contentedly, pushing his head further into your hand as you begin to scratch at his scalp.

As you watch Anthony doze dreamily, you feel your eyes lose the fight against the growing tiredness. Your hand stills in Anthony’s hair as you fall asleep alongside your husband, utterly content at the path your life has taken considering it led you to him.

*****

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @aspiringsloth20 @wallwriterstuff @magicalxdaydream @darkestbeforethedawn16 @gryffindors-weasley @spideysz

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony x reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagines #Bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagines

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bestiesenpai · 3 years

Text

Canidae - Geto Suguru

Ah, my first hybrid au and full on yandere piece for jjk! A momentous occasion, I hope everyone likes it lol, femme reader btw. 7.5k words

part two

Content warnings: pseudo-incest, yandere shit, kidnapping, not a/b/o but there’s mentions of going into heat, size difference(although I’m not sure how well I wrote it), talking about a past murder(but no actual killing), choking, stalking, dumbification, kind of shy/skittish reader, drugging(w/ pills and w/ a syringe), brief mention of drug usage, needles, slimy men...there’s a lot of slimy men in here

(S/N) = stage name

It’s been about two months since you ran away from home. You try not to think about it, but in the quiet moments of the day, the hours that you should be using to sleep before your next shift, during meals and even at work, it creeps up like a sickness that just won’t leave.

You hadn’t wanted to leave your home, even if the people there weren’t really your family by blood. After being adopted by the Getou family in your late childhood, you thought life would get better. They seemed like a wonderful family of fox hybrids, all silky black hair and cunning little smiles. Although they weren’t in your same species family, as a house cat you could get along with them easily, a subtle praise to evolution for making foxes more like cats than dogs.

“Hey house cat, stop sulking by the bar and go talk to customers.” A slap on the wall next to you jolts you out of your thoughts and into the loud and bustling world around you.

“S-sorry boss.” Ducking your head away from your furious boss, you adjust the skimpy shorts and crop top that truly did nothing to hide your skin. Working at a seedy hostess bar wasn’t exactly the plan when you ran away, but they were the only place willing to hire you.

Looking out across the crowded bar floor, at least you didn’t have to worry about going out on the street and handing out flyers to get customers tonight. There were several men of different species and ages, sitting at the bar with dark liquor or having pretty bunny girls pour drinks from overpriced bottles at private tables.

Taking a glance at what table you’d been assigned, your stomach twisted in knots. It was a table full of lion men, their business suits wrinkled beyond hope and their manes even more disheveled than what was normal for a lion.

“Hey pretty kitty!” One of them shouted drunkenly, waving a large clawed hand at you as you shuffled closer.

“H-hello.” Giving a nervous wave, you felt a little better at seeing a coworker - a red panda hybrid - sitting between a few of them.

“Ah this is (S/N), she’s a newbie!” The girl, who called herself Fuyumi, announced. Holding up her glass in salute, she took a sip.

“Fresh meat huh?” Suddenly, all eyes were on you again, but the atmosphere shifted. A predatory look was shared between the group and a few men got up to let you slide into the booth, next to your coworker.

“What a pretty little thing you are.” A lion purred loudly next to you, putting a heavy hand around your arm and squeezing your shoulder.

“T-thank you! Let me- let me pour you a drink?” Shrinking under the weight and his lecherous gaze, you grabbed the liquor bottle they ordered and refilled a few drinks that needed to be topped up. Your ears were pressed flush to your head from the nerves, tail slightly puffed up behind you.

“So, your name is (S/N)?”

“Mhmm!” The stage name was something you thought of on the fly, trying to make it the least like your real name as possible. Accepting a drink from Fuyumi, you tried to ease the anxiety pricking at your skin.

Listening in on a story being told by one of the men, you tried to act like you were paying attention. Faking a smile, laughing loudly and keeping the drinks full - those were the only things on your mind. Not the clients walking by being escorted to secret back rooms or the people so obviously snorting something up at one of the tables in the back.

“(S/N), you’ve been quiet!” The man with his arm around you shook you side to side, his eyes falling to your breasts moving and being squished together when he squeezed you to him. “Tell us about yourself!”

“Uhm-” Taking a quick glance at Fuyumi, you cleared your throat. “Well I’m new to Tokyo-”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” He cut you off, an eager look in his eyes. You shook your head obediently. Even if you did have a boyfriend, you couldn’t say yes. You had to be seen as attainable, just within arms reach if they wanted to have you for themselves.

“That’s good, the boys in Tokyo won’t do you any good.” A man to your left chimed in. His shirt was unbuttoned, showing off his hairy chest covered in golden fur. “But the men in Tokyo are a different story.” He winked at you and you forced a giggle up, covering your mouth with your hand to hide your slight displeasure.

“Yeah, what you need is a man, (S/N). You seem so nervous!”

“House cats usually are.” Fuyumi piped up. Grabbing your chin, she pursed your lips with the tips of her white painted claws. “Isn’t that right?” Cooing at you like a baby, she shook your head and turned you to face the men at the table. “(S/N) was so nervous for her interview she nearly cried!”

A round of mocking teases sounded at the table as Fuyumi let go of you, some of them calling you a ‘poor baby’ while others offered to buy you another round of drinks to help you feel better. Your face burned, embarrassment and the close proximity of all the bodies around you making a light sheen of sweat glisten on your skin.

“I’m fine now, though, promise!” Biting your lip, you did as you’d practiced before your shift: putting an arm under your breasts, you pushed it up and tilted your head down, looking up at the men from beneath your lashes. “I feel much better with all these big strong men here.”

It made you sick, the way they all leered at your body and visibly adjusted the front of their pants. Ordering a few more bottles for the table, the sick feeling refused to leave. It clung to the back of your throat, rising bile that refused to be swallowed down.

Hours later, as the sun began to rise and proper members of society were starting to head to work for the morning, you were finally done with work. The table of lions had bought your time for the whole night, their egos boosted by your show of submission.

“You actually did okay tonight, house cat.” Your boss grunted, thumbing through the cash she was counting. “Here’s your cut.” Holding out a handful of bills, you knew better than to question how much was in it. The last time you’d tried to speak up about being shorted, your only window was shattered by a brick and it cost all of your money to fix it.

“Thank you.” Nodding politely, you took it from her hand. It felt slightly larger than normal, but you knew it wasn’t the full amount you’d been promised to receive when you started working. There was always a bit taken off the top, and since you were a newbie, even more.

Quickly changing into baggy sweatpants and a hoodie, you slinked out of the club's back entrance with your hood drawn tightly. Located in the red light district, no one batted an eye at you or where you worked, but it wasn’t them you were worried about.

Running away from home meant running away from the only family you had left, an over controlling big brother with an obsession. An obsession with you. Ever since you met, got adopted all those years ago, he had been infatuated with you.

As a young, freshly teenaged fox, suddenly acquiring a little sister had been exciting. Especially when it turned out you weren’t the same species. He always wanted to be around you, ask you questions about what it was like to be a cat. At first they were innocent, asking about your diet and favorite toys, but as he got older, his interest in you skewed.

You saw the search history on his computer, he spent hours researching cat hybrid heat cycles and when the best time to mate was. He started to go through your phone, taking it away from you under the guise of just being an annoying older brother while secretly looking through all your messages. Always getting jealous if you hung out with friends or didn’t want to sit in his room with him. And his friends knew about his obsession, feeding into it and talking about how much they wished to have a little sister like you, and if he’d be so kind as to share.

Your older brother became more obsessed with you while he was looking for a job after university. Spending hours applying for jobs and going to interviews, he wouldn’t shut up about getting a good job and moving out with you. And when he finally got that good job he always mentioned, that’s when you had to run.

Walking with your head down through the streets, waiting at a crosswalk to pass had you on edge. Just remembering the way he held your hand in public with a grip tight enough to cut off circulation had you shoving your hands into your pockets. A couple walked across the street with their arms around each other, and suddenly the suffocating weight of your brother's arm around your waist as he slept in your bed with you was back.

Forcing air through your lungs, you ran the rest of the way home. It wasn’t a long way to the crummy apartment block you called home and you were inside your cramped studio space and crumpled against the door in no time.

It didn’t always feel good to be in here with it’s water stained ceilings, barely usable pipes and the one, barely big enough window near the front door. You could hardly call it a home, it was just a room with the mattress you bought second hand and the clothes you ran away with strewn across the floor with a tiny kitchen shoved into the corner and a bathroom that surely wasn’t up to code.

But for now, it felt amazing. Your running had only exacerbated the exhaustion you had from working such grueling hours, and just crawling over to your dirty bed took all the energy you had left. With the sun beginning to rise properly into the sky, you closed your eyes and went to sleep.

The sudden alarm from the crappy phone you bought was what woke you up, the early evening sun and the sound of your neighbors yelling at one another through the walls pulling the last few bits of sleep from the edges of your mind.

And so do the set of crystal blue eyes staring in at you from your window, one that not even you can see out of because it’s too high.

“Sat-” The name catches in your throat, and when you blink again the eyes are gone. Rushing out of bed, you rip open the front door and look up and down the hallway. But there’s no one there, no bright white arctic fox fur to be seen, and certainly not the man attached to it.

Gripping the door tightly in your fingers, you linger in the threshold. The longer you stayed out, the more the vivid eyes watching you sleep became a memory, something your overworked mind must have conjured up as it went from sleeping to being awake. With a shaky sigh, you step back into your apartment to get ready for your next shift.

Meandering through the busy streets, you passed by shops that were starting to become familiar to you. There was the odd convenience store, a few illegal gambling dens with restaurant fronts, strip clubs and sex shops.

With time to kill before your shift, you dashed into a convenience store, it’s stark fluorescent lighting a nice switch from the everchanging neon signs outside. Scrounging up what little pocket change you had, you bought the cheapest food possible and sat down at the tiny table near the windows.

Eating slowly, trying to savor not only every bite but every minute before going back to work, a flash of white caught your eye as the convenience store door was opened. The little jingle that played was the only indication someone had actually entered, you barely saw the door open or close.

You could only see a glimpse of the pure white, not even a full on look. Glancing over your shoulder, you didn’t see anyone standing in the aisles, no ears stuck out to give you an indication as to who had come in.

But there was the feeling of being watched that had you on edge. When you turned fully away from the window to look at the store behind you, there wasn’t anyone watching you, yet the feeling still stuck. The target on your back had just been shot dead center, a sharp pang of fear gripped your heart the longer you looked at the seemingly empty aisles.

“Long way from home, little kitten.” A familiar face emerged from your right, but it wasn’t the man you thought it was.

“N-nanami?” It was a shock to see him in a neighborhood like this, his pristine suit more fitted for the financial district a few train stops over that he sometimes visited for work. He was in his usual suit, the one he liked to wear when he was over at your house, and his blond ears and tail were as immaculately trimmed and proper as ever.

“Hm, you’re not calling me Kento-nii anymore?” He said scornfully, sliding into the seat next to you and leaning his elbows on the table.

“Sorry, Kento-nii.” Bowing your head, you turned back to the table as well. Clenching your quivering hands in your lap, your claws dug into your skin to try and ground yourself. Kento hadn’t even said much and yet you were ready to pass out.

“Why’d you run away? You know we all miss you.” Leaning his head in his hands, Kento stared out the window at the people walking by. His lip curled a little in disgust, and a low growl rumbled from the back of his throat. “This isn’t the place for a girl like you.”

“You know why I had to leave.” Staring down at your hands, your eyes burned as you blinked away tears at the memories forcing their way back to you.

“I don’t. Enlighten me.”

“Kento-nii, please-” Your voice trembled, catching in your throat as it broke.

“Tell me, (Y/N). Why did you leave?”

“S-su-” It made you want to throw up just saying his name, so you didn’t. “He killed our parents.” Saying it out loud made the painful burn behind your eyes grow stronger until you were blinking hot tears down your cheeks.

“That’s not true.” Kento said calmly while turning to you. “Your parents died from-”

“Don’t lie for him!” You shouted, finally looking up at Kento. As soon as your voice raised, he wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, forcing your head against his chest and pulling you into a tight hug. Dipping his head down, Kento’s chin brushed your ears as he pressed his lips to them.

“Listen little kitten, you know better than to raise your voice at me. And you know better than to lie.” The fingers around your neck tightened and Kento dug the tips of his claws against your pulse. “Your parents died in a murder-suicide, nothing more nothing less.”

“Let go!” You sobbed, thrashing around in his hold. It was truly useless to try and fight against him. Foxes - and truly, a lot of other hybrid types - were much larger and stronger than you. There wasn’t any chance you had at trying to beat him in strength, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t try.

“Calm down, you’re making a scene.” Fully enclosing his hand around your neck, Kento squeezed the air from your throat and shut down the subsequent scream that followed. Reduced to whimpering, you stilled your body and tried to tug his hand off.

Gasping and choking when he finally let you go, your body was weak from the lack of oxygen and you fully slumped into Kento’s hold. Struggling to catch your breath, there was little solace you could find in his hand stroking between your shoulder blades.

“Come home, (Y/N).” He said gently, like he was coaxing a child into eating their unwanted vegetables.

“No.” Shaking your head weakly, your body trembled violently. Kento didn’t need to speak for you to know he wasn’t pleased with your answer, the pregnant pause that followed was enough.

“Why must you be so difficult, hm?” With a heavy, disappointed sigh, Kento let you sit upright again. Tsking at your bloodshot eyes dripping with tears, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped your face clean.

Your lower lip shook as you looked up at him, honey colored eyes to match his blonde hair. Vertical pupils stared back at yours, the only thing the two of you really had in common.

“I’ll ask one more time: will you come home with me, (Y/N)?” Cupping your cheek, Kento wiped the snot dripping from your nose and the drool that had started to drip past your lip. “If you say no one more time, I can’t promise anything.”

“Kento-nii…” Sniffling pathetically, you blinked hard and shook your head.

“(Y/N).” Groaning in annoyance, Kento dropped his hands and put his head back. “I don’t think you’re listening-”

“Y-you listen to me!” Standing up abruptly, your chair fell over from the force and loudly clattered to the ground. “I’m never going back there! Not ever!” It was dangerous to shout at Kento, especially as you saw his pupils begin to dilate. Out of all your brothers friends, he was the one who took the rules most seriously.

Grabbing the food you had left, you ran out of the convenience store. As your feet slammed against the pavement, you didn’t dare look over your shoulder to see if he was chasing after you. Kento hadn’t been the type to play those sort of chase games back at home, but the desperation to have you back in that house was strong enough that he just might follow you.

Running all the way to the clubs back entrance, you slipped inside and hid in the storage room. No one truly bothered to come back there anyway, it was the perfect place to hide behind a few untouched boxes until it was time for your shift.

“Hey house cat, someone personally requested you.” Your boss grunted when she saw you, a cigarette hanging loosely from her lips.

“Who is it?” Attempting to look at the clipboard in her hands, you didn’t quite catch the name of the person that was written down.

“Who cares, it’s some rich fox wearing glasses. He’s at the back, you can’t miss his white hair.”

“What?” Your eyes shot open, heart stopping as her words bounced around your skull. It was too much of a coincidence that Kento had found you and now a white haired fox had requested you.

“Hey.” Grabbing you by the shoulder, your boss glared at you and turned your body around. “Get to work already and stop zoning the fuck out. You don’t want to make me put you on flyer duty do you? There’s some weirdos out tonight that would just love-”

“No! No, I’m sorry ma’am. I’ll get going right away.” Stepping away from her tight hold, you tried not to tremble as you walked to the back table. As you got closer, your knees nearly gave out on you as the fear you had was materializing right before your eyes.

It was indeed Gojo Satoru, your brother's best friend and the deadliest arctic fox you’ve ever come to know. With his pristine snow white hair and ears, keen blue eyes and those trademark dark sunglasses he wears, there was no mistaking him.

“Hey, little sister.” He crooned as you slid into the booth next to him, keeping a healthy distance between the two of you. “Missed ya.”

“Toru-nii, why are you here?” Keeping your eyes locked on the melting ice in his cup, you could barely breathe from the weight of your fear. There wasn’t anything that Satoru couldn’t - or wouldn’t - do. He’d always been the smartest, the strongest, he could beat any hybrid in anything he set his mind to, even with clear biological differences set between them.

“What do you mean why am I here? I’m here to see my favorite little kitten at her new job!” Throwing his arms open wide, Satoru had an easy smile on his face despite your obvious discomfort. “Although, I can’t say you’re doing very well so far. My glass is still empty.”

Wordlessly, you stiffly poured him a drink and slid the glass over to him. Pouring one for yourself as well, you clinked your glasses together when he raised it and took a short sip. Usually you didn’t drink on the job, getting the bartenders to mix you something that was mostly pure juice. But tonight you needed to take a bit of edge off.

“Please just go.” Forcing the words out of your tight throat, a wave of nausea washed over you as Satoru put his hand on your shoulder.

“I can’t leave here without you.” His lips brushed your ears like they used to back at home, but this time he wasn’t whispering crude little jokes to get you to giggle. Sliding his hand from your shoulder to around your ribs, Satoru quickly overwhelmed your personal space with the size of his body.

“Toru!” You gasped as his claws dug into your ribs, threatening to push through the spaces and break them entirely. Tugging on his hand, you looked around to see if anyone else was paying attention to your lonely little table in the back.

“Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be. Kento already tried to be nice and you were just so mean to him.”

“T-toru-nii, please!” Desperate tears sprang to your eyes as every word he spoke was punctuated with a tightening grip around you.

“And here I thought we trained you to be a good girl, (Y/N), I really did. But good girls don’t yell at their big brothers, they don’t lie and-” Satoru broke off to send a charming smile to a few passing hostesses before returning to you, “They certainly don’t run away.”

A choked sob racked through you, drowned out by the loud music being played overhead. In your struggle to get his hand off, you hadn’t realized Satoru slid you onto his lap until it was too late and he could wrap both long arms around you.

Forced to lean back against his lanky body, his fluffy white tail wrapped around yours, deftly hugging it close to him. Engulfing your scantily clad body, Satoru burrowed his nose between your ears, inhaling the scent he always said he liked back home.

“I’ve always wanted to see you wear something like this, ya know.” Thumbing the edge of your crop top, Satoru dipped his fingers underneath the fabric. “Always wanted to dress you up and play pretend, be my cute little hostess for the night.”

“Stop.” Grabbing his wrist, your eyes desperately searched for someone to come save you. But being seated at a table so far in the back of the club was playing to Satoru’s advantage; no one really paid attention to the back of the club because that’s where the truly shady things happened.

“C’mon kitty, play with me.” Satoru whined, bouncing you on his lap a few times. He was always childish, always whining for you to pay attention to him whenever he got the chance, and now was no different. You couldn’t see it, but you knew he had that trademark silly smile on his face regardless of the fact he had a death grip on your body.

“Toru-nii.” Jutting your lip out in a pout, you finally lurched your upper body forward enough to look at him over your shoulder.

“There’s that cutesy little face I missed.” Cooing at you, Satoru loosened his grip enough to let you sit sideways across his lap. Forcing you to wrap an arm around his middle, Satoru kept a tight grip on your back.

“Toru-nii…” Fiddling with the fabric of his shirt, you stole a glance at the eyes staring right through you. “Why do you- why are you helping him so much? You know what he did, I don’t-”

“I helped him do it.”

“What?” Your jaw fell slack and you stared right at him.

“Look, there’s no point in lying to you.” Leaning forward, Satoru grabbed his drink and took a generous swig. “I helped your brother kill your parents and stage it. We even practiced on a few drifters before moving onto the real deal.” Satoru’s smile had fallen, an unfamiliar serious look taking its place.

“You have no idea how long we all planned it, all three of us. Kento took care of your trust fund and the insurance, I subdued your parents and got them in position, and Suguru was the one who pulled the trigger.”

Tears were streaming down your face, smearing the makeup you’d put on, dripping into your open mouth. All other noise in the club fell away, leaving your ears ringing loudly from the silence in your head. Air was barely coming in or out of your lungs, your throat too tight to properly breathe.

“We had it all planned out perfectly, but then you just had to go and mess it up.” Satoru landed a swift slap to your thigh. “You just had to be a bad kitty and run off.” A second slap knocked the air back into you and your body jerked back.

“Toru-nii, why?!” Your scream was loud enough to be heard over the music, and Satoru looked around at the few curious eyes that were now looking at you, his ears flattening against his head as he forced a smile.

“We had to do it (Y/N), so we could all live together as a pack.”

“B-but we already had one.” Sure, you didn’t necessarily need to live in a group but it was nice to be in your adoptive family's pack and be surrounded by their love and care.

“That one...wasn’t the right fit.”

“For who?” Sniffling loudly, you wiped the snot from your nose. “Who wasn’t it right for?” It had been perfectly fine for you. There wasn’t any fighting, no strained dynamics and when your parents were alive, there wasn’t an overbearing older brother trying to completely consume you.

“You’ll do much better in the pack we have now, (Y/N).” Gripping your upper thigh tightly, Satoru leaned forward to press his lips against your ears once more. “Your big brothers will take great care of you.” A sound got caught in your throat, something halfway between a gasp and a scream.

“T-toru-Toru-nii.” A fresh wave of tears pricked your eyes and you blinked hard to keep them at bay. “Can I use the restroom? I just- I really need to use it.” Satoru stilled for a moment, sizing up your words and his options.

“Alright, but be quick.” Slowly releasing the tight hold he had on you, you could finally breathe again. Sliding out of the booth, you bolted to the employee bathroom and collapsed against the far wall.

There wasn’t a way out of the club without Satoru seeing. Even if you ran out the backdoor, he would still see you coming out of the bathroom. The front door was no use, there were too many people you would have to maneuver around.

“And then I said- what the hell, house cat? Are you drugged out?” A few bunny girls walked in, their long floppy ears decorated with silk ribbon. They never really spoke to you, but they weren’t mean to you either.

“My client- he’s just- I-” Stammering, you couldn’t find the words to explain the situation.

“Is he being a fucking freak?” Sauntering up to you, they tugged you up from the floor to lean against the sink counter. Sighing loudly as you nodded, one of them pulled out a small baggie from her bra, a few red pills tucked safely inside. “Here, slip one in his drink and he’ll be out like a light. Then you can have security escort him out.”

“No, he’ll notice.” Satoru would notice without a doubt if you tried to slip something into his drink. He was always watching you, sometimes more than your brother was.

“Alright well I’ll mix a drink and bring it to him, tell him he gets a free drink as a first time customer.”

“You’d do that, really?” You were nearly beside yourself with a sudden rush of hope.

“Yeah, why not? It’s been a while since I’ve had to drug a client. Plus, we can’t have our newest recruit quitting on us already!” Giving you a cheeky wink, the girls sent you on your way, promising to handle it swiftly.

Returning to the table, Satoru pulled you onto his lap once more. You didn’t struggle or make a single peep as his arms wound around you again. His grip was much softer now, not threatening to bruise and crush you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the girls you talked to walk to the bar. They didn’t look at you at all, going straight to the bartender and whispering a few things in their ear. Attempting to make conversation with Satoru, you didn’t have to wait long for them to come to your table.

“Hi sir, we heard it was your first time here!” One of the girls shouted, bouncing on her heels and making her ears flop around.

“Mhmm, so we thought it would be a nice treat to give you a drink on the house!” Another girl came up, setting down a bright pink cocktail. “Go ahead and try it, I bet you’ll like it!”

“Hm, okay.” Shrugging his shoulder, Satoru grabbed the drink and took a sip, smacking his lips together at the flavor and then taking another. “This isn’t bad, thank you!”

“Of course sir, our pleasure.” Winking at the both of you, they walked away slowly, keeping their eyes on Satoru and fully turning away after seeing him down half the drink.

Satoru always did like a bit of liquor, and it would quickly be his downfall. The drink was a sweet fruity concoction to mask the bitter pill as it dissolved and Satoru’s deadly sweet tooth was hooked immediately.

You didn’t even fully wait for him to pass out before getting out of his lap. His heavy head bobbed side to side, his words slurred not like you’d heard before and his arms had fallen slack off of you. Only his droopy eyes could seem to follow you, silently demanding you to stay in place.

Throwing on your outside clothes in the back room, you kept your hood tightly drawn as you ran from the club. You weren’t worried about pissing your boss off and having to deal with the repercussions, you wouldn’t be returning to that place ever again.

Bursting through your front door, you grabbed whatever clothes you could and shoved them into your bag. The small stack of bills you kept hidden in the bathroom was a welcomed weight to your growing pile, there was enough to at least buy a train ticket and a hot meal a good distance from Tokyo.

Under the cover of the moonless night, you tried to stick to the back alleys on your way to the station that would take you out of town. It paid off to live in such a seedy area, you knew all the ins and outs and where to go to avoid being seen.

Popping your head out from an alleyway, the street before you was deserted. A long string of old warehouses called the street home, their brick and mortar facades well worn from time. Dodging the streetlights as best you could, you could practically taste freedom on the tip of your tongue.

“Oh little sister.” A voice rang out into the dead street, an eerie song sung on the lips of the one man you’d never wanted to see again. Keeping as still as possible, your eyes burned from not blinking, and your lungs from not breathing.

His slow, methodical footsteps scraped across the cement ground, echoing in the silence and heightening your anxiety with every slow drag of his feet. As the sound drew closer, you pressed yourself against the doorway of a warehouse. There wasn’t any way you could outrun your brother, so you had to devise a plan to outsmart him when he got close enough.

“Little sister, I’ve been looking for you.” Suguru came to a halt right in front of you, his towering build casting a shadow over you in the already dark alcove. He was wearing what he had on the last time you saw him, a simple black tracksuit and his favorite slides. His hair had gotten a little longer, resting a few inches past his shoulder blades with the top half in a bun.

Quirking a brow, Suguru hummed low in his chest, reaching an arm out and resting a hand next to your head. His long black claws scraped against the wood of the door, his hand easily large enough to encompass your whole face and then some. The natural musky scent of his body was sickeningly familiar, like you’d only gone just a few hours without smelling it.

“Tell me, did you have fun playing hide and seek with your big brother?” Flashing two rows of gleaming white and perfectly straight canine teeth, Suguru leaned over you, the expanse of his chest blocking out any wiggle room. “I hope you did, because I’m done playing now.”

“Y-you’re not my- my big brother anymore.” Screwing your eyes closed, you twisted your head away from him as much as you could.

“Don’t say such things, (Y/N), you’ll hurt my feelings.” Suguru laughed dryly, clearly unamused.

“Getou li- ahh!” In a flash Suguru had his other hand around your neck, lifting you up to dangle on your tiptoes as he choked you.

“Don’t you ever call me that again, do you fucking understand?” Staring at you with unblinking eyes, Suguru squeezed hard. When your eyes started to roll to the back of your head he let go, stepping back slightly to let you fall to the ground.

Struggling to regain your breath, you tried to crawl away through the small gap left between the wall and him. You barely got one full step before Suguru grabbed you by the back of your hoodie, forcing you to stand and practically dangling you in the air like a doll.

“What’s this?” Seeing the sliver of skin underneath the hoodie, Suguru wrenched it off of you. Your sweats came off shortly after and you were exposed to the elements and his growing glare. “Care to explain why you’re half fucking naked?”

“G-” You started but quickly pressed your lips closed at the sharp look he sent you. “Suguru, just let me go.”

“Answer my fucking question.” His tone left no room for further argument, and you slowly drew your arms over your exposed midriff.

“I started working at a...a hostess bar.” Your words hung in the air, the weight of them heavy and clinging to every part of you. Suguru’s face made no change, the only thing that tipped you off to his anger was the intense flaring of his nostrils.

“My precious little sister has been working at a hostess bar for the past two months? You’ve been dressed like this every night, getting stared at and perved on by god knows what kind of men? You ran away for this?” Suguru’s voice was far too steady for the situation, spiking the already high adrenaline in your blood.

“Suguru please-”

“And it seems you’ve forgotten the number one rule. You know what you’re supposed to call me.” Backing you up onto the door again, Suguru’s fluffy black tail flicked out behind him, it’s long drawn out shadow swaying back and forth.

“You’re not my brother.” Licking your lips nervously, your eyes followed his tail. There was no way you could look him in the eye after saying that. Suguru began to laugh, a cold and hollow sound from the base of his throat that sent a chill down your spine.

“And why exactly is that?” Slamming both hands down on either side of your head, he leaned down to make eye contact with you, his pupils blown wide against his already pitch black irises.

“You know.” Forcing the words out of your mouth, you curled into yourself as much as you could.

“No, I don’t.” Speaking slowly, Suguru waited just a few seconds before slamming his hands down again. “Tell me little kitten, right now!” You let out a piercing scream, covering your face with your hands.

“You killed our parents! You killed them and I heard you fucking do it!” Coming face to face with your adopted brother, the man that killed your parents in cold blood, and having to talk to him about it were all making your head spin.

“No, no I didn’t do that, honey. You’ve got it all wrong.” Suguru’s voice dropped low, instantly adopting a soothing tone. His fingers toyed with the edges of your ears, brushing the soft fur gently. “Mommy and daddy...they had problems. And I know it must be hard to believe, but they did it to themselves.”

“You’re such a liar!” Smacking his hand away from your ears, you glared at him, frustrated tears stewing on your lash line. “I heard you shoot them Suguru! I heard mom-” Your voice cracked, and the tears began to stream down your face. “I heard her tell you not to do it.”

Falling silent, Sugurus face remained neutral. His hand remained in the air from when you smacked it away, and the only indication he was still alive was the subtle flicker of his eyelids and the way his chest barely moved as he breathed.

“I knew I should have drugged you more.” He finally broke the silence, putting his hand back on the door to keep you trapped. Everything Suguru did felt like you were watching it in slow motion. The way he drew in a deep breath, expanded his chest and arms out wide and then drew you into a tight, bone crushing embrace all felt like it happened too slow. Like you should have been able to prevent it.

“Suguru!” You screamed his name from the top of your lungs, throat quickly going raw from the volume of your shouts. “Let me go! Let me go!” Writhing around, you felt the air quickly being squeezed out of you.

“It doesn’t matter now though. It’s all in the past!” Laughing to himself, Suguru took a few steps back, going to the middle of the deserted street and under a light post. “That’s right! The past! No need to worry about it, what’s done is done!”

“Su-Sugu-nii! Sugu-nii please!” You finally broke. You finally called him what he had trained you to call him for all those years. Your precious big brother.

“Oh how I missed hearing you call me that!” Still laughing, Suguru let out a loud hum. “I think I should record you saying that so I can play it over and over whenever I need my fix.”

“Sugu-nii, please!” The tears of frustration were now turning to tears of fear and desperation. The squeezing had stopped, you could just barely suck in air, but your feet still dangled off the ground. “Please let me go- this isn’t okay!”

“What does a dumb little kitten know about what is and isn’t okay?”

“Sugu!”

“You’re just a stupid little baby who got scared without her mommy and daddy and ran away. Well don’t worry, my darling sister, Sugu-nii is here to take care of you.” Nuzzling his nose against your ears affectionately, Suguru sighed contently. “We’ll be a family again, just like before. You’ll be with the pack just like you’re supposed to.”

“I’m not- not even a fox, Sugu!” Your chances of leaving his hold anytime soon were quickly diminishing, there wasn’t much you could say - if anything - to convince him to stop. “I don’t need to live in a pack, I don’t- I’m not a canine at all!”

“Hm, like that matters. Foxes act more like cats anyway.” Shrugging his shoulders, Suguru put his hand on the back of your head, raking his nails softly against your scalp. He was holding you now like a baby doll, the arm that had previously been crushing you against him now coming to rest under your bottom and cradle you.

Something caught your eye, making you twist away from Suguru in hopes that it was someone that had heard the screams and was coming to save you. Your heart deflated just as quickly as it swelled when it was Kento who had appeared, a metal briefcase in his hands.

“Look, Kento-nii is here. Go to him.” Putting you on your feet, Suguru nudged you forward. Your knees locked, refusing to move toward the imposing figure.

“It wasn’t nice to drug Gojo like that, little kitten. He’s passed out in the back of the car as we speak, you’ll have to apologize to him when he wakes up.” Kento closed the distance between the two of you, eyes glowering and brows tightly knit together.

“How did you-”

“You think just because you run away we can’t track your scent? How do you think we found you at the club after you so rudely left our conversation? Just a few sniffs and it was like you walked us right there.” Flicking the briefcase open, Kento’s face was obscured as he began to dig around for the contents. “I was waiting by the backdoor of that shitty little club, I had a feeling Gojo wouldn’t be able to convince you to come back and you’d make a run for it again, and you did. It was far too easy to call up Getou and let him know.”

The words Kento was saying were barely sticking inside your head, your complete focus going to the loaded syringe he had pulled out from the briefcase and was now holding in his hands, an almost bored expression on his face.

Taking a step back as he took one forward, you bumped into Suguru’s chest. He made a tsking noise, quickly sliding an arm under your chin and another around your middle to keep you from moving.

“Stop! Stop, Sugu-nii please!” The tears that dripped down your face didn’t matter anymore. Your voice going hoarse from all the screaming didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. At least, nothing you wanted mattered.

“Just try to be calm, little sis. Kento will be quick.” Suguru chuckled darkly, resting his chin atop your head. Any further words you had dissolved into frantic screams as Kento grabbed your arm and wrenched it away from your body.

Pushing the needle into you, he injected you with a serene face. Like he had practiced this before, almost as if he was a doctor giving you a flu shot. Whatever was in the syringe was gone quickly, Kento unloading the whole vial into you before calmly placing it back in the briefcase and shutting it.

“Don’t cry baby.” Suguru cooed, pressing a flurry of kisses on your head as he loosened his hold and began to wipe the tears off your face.

“Sugu- Kento-” You were losing track of the world and fast. Things blurred together, the crisp edges of Kento’s body were melting into the brick walls behind him. Your limbs were giving out on you and Suguru was quick to pick you up and cradle you like he had done before.

“Sshh, just go to sleep.” Pressing his lips against your ear, Suguru whispered softly, giggling at the way you closed your heavy eyes and relaxed into his embrace. “We’ll be home before you know it. One big happy family.”

#tw: pseudo-incest #tw: yandere #tw: needles #tw: drugging #jujutsu kaisen #geto x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #yandere jujutsu kaisen

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buckysbabygorl · 3 years

Text

Names

Summary: Y/N’s always the butt of Loki’s teasing and they can’t stand it, until the hidden meanings behind it are revealed

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: Loki x GenderNeutral!Reader

Warnings: swearing

Cowritten by @babybluereads

When the Asgardians had arrived on earth, the tiny town of St. Abb’s had accepted them with open arms. The community immediately took to caring for the newcomers and providing them with whatever they needed. Y/N, being the assertive and bright person they were, immediately caught the eye of the fighting trio that had defended Asgard in its last moments.

Y/N was quick to help where they could; taking on leadership roles and directing the townspeople on what actions to take next for the Asgardian folk to fit in. They provided shelter, food, clothing, whatever was necessary.

Valkyrie and Y/N developed a fast friendship; she liked Y/N’s confidence and strength, and they managed their people side by side. Thor adored most, if not all migardians and their customs, and Y/N was no exception. Y/N made him laugh, provided him with comfort and advice, and he contributed to the town in any way he could when he visited.

And then there was Loki. Oh, Loki, Loki, Loki.

Y/N had very little patience when it came to him; as a matter of fact, Y/N had none.

Loki was, politely, a grade A pain in the ass.

He was one to disappear for hours or days at a time; returning with no explanation as to why. He forced trickery on the township; amusing the children and the occasional townsfolk, but not Y/N. He was rowdy at the local bar; he was constantly seen partying, making this once quiet town louder than ever.

People adored him in town. Y/N however did not; they wanted structure, organization. He was chaos walking.

Worst of all; he felt the need to be glued to Y/N’s side constantly. He loved to tease them, get a rise from them first thing in the morning, he stopped them from doing their work, and it always left them fighting.

What really bothered Y/N is when he’d insult them in another language; which he did often. Something he’d huff under his breath, and when Y/N demanded clarification he’d simply laugh and walk off. Which seemed to be the only time he ever left them alone.

It was infuriating. Which is what Y/N was complaining about to Valkyrie right at this moment.

“I don’t understand why he can’t just piss off; everyone in town loves him, why can’t he go bother them?”

Valkyrie smiled, “Perhaps that’s why he does it; he knows you hate him. It’s likely the most entertaining thing for him.”

Y/N huffed as they lifted another crate, stacking them against the wall. “Well that’s just sadistic,” they said, “You’d think he’d get his rocks off on something else.”

Valkyrie laughed, but not for the reason Y/N thought.

“I’m not sure why my rocks are of your concern, but please leave sadism out of it.”

Y/N’s teeth clenched at the voice, and tried to ignore it.

Loki smiled, “No greeting? I don’t even get a “good morning your highness”?”

“No, you don’t.” Y/N lifted another crate, which was swiftly pulled out of their hands by Loki. Y/N sighed, reaching for another one.

“I don’t need your help, I can carry it myself.” Y/N stated.

Loki chuckled as he stacked the crate in its place, before plucking the other from Y/N’s hands as well.

“It’s my pleasure, I’m certain I can do a better job anyways.”

Valkyrie shook her head, staying silent as the conversation transpired. She knew better than to jump in: one, because Y/N could handle themselves; two, because the last time Valkyrie stepped in, knives were involved and nearly banned in the town square because of it. Out of respect for peace and civility in New Asgard, Valkyrie ceased her fighting. For now.

As composed of a person Y/N was, they were one to get easily flustered. Yes, their emotions were in check, but something about Loki’s teasing was especially provoking.

“I doubt it,” Y/N said, “Besides, how can you do a better job when you’re hardly ever here.”

“There are other ways to say you miss me, Y/N,” Loki said, “And I’m always here. You’re the one that wishes I wasn’t.”

“That’s not true, I just wish when you were here, you were less annoying.”

“I think that’s asking too much of him,” Valkyrie said, examining the lures of their fishing stock, “It’s ingrained in him.”

“Oh Valkyrie, I didn’t realize you were here.” He teased, momentarily turning his attention away from Y/N.

The warrior rolled her eyes, taking a nearby piece of broken crate and chucking it at his head.

He deflected it but turned to retaliate, before Y/N stopped him.

“Hey, settle down. We have a lot of work to do, and I need you two to focus.” Y/N reprimanded.

Y/N didn’t realize it, but they had their hand placed on his chest. Loki smirked at the contact, before Y/N swiftly pulled their hand away.

“Now,” Y/N said, “Are you going to actually be helpful? Or are you planning on wasting my time.”

Loki hummed before looking back to the open boathouse entrance that he had come from, “No, I don’t plan on staying long. I was only stopping by to see my melilla.”

Y/N scowled with a groan. “If you’re going to insult me, you could at least do it in a language I understand!”

But their complaint fell on deaf ears as he laughed, exiting just as quickly as he’d come.

Now it was Valkyrie’s turn to laugh, their minor conflicts always being of great entertainment. But she knew Y/N would complain about it for the rest of the afternoon; their work was already tainted by the presence of Loki.

Thor was happy to be back, he could only spend so much time with the Guardians before needing some space. He admired the team, but the arrogance of that Starlord fellow was sometimes too much to bear. Not that Thor made it any easier; he was quite the confident man himself. They’d butted heads far too often, and now he was in need of a much deserved break.

He strode into town cheerily; greeting the townsfolk with an overjoyed disposition. Though happy he was to see the midgardians; he was looking for one in particular. He finally spotted Y/N in the small farmers market just off the docks. In fact, he heard Y/N before he saw them, as once again Y/N was fighting with his notorious brother.

“You can’t turn apples into snakes when children are around, someone could get hurt and we don’t have a town doctor until next month!” Y/N scolded.

“Oh amata, I love how easily the simplest of things can make you forget yourself.” He said.

With a slight snarl on their face, Y/N groaned. “Stop calling me that!”

Loki simply laughed in their face, enraging Y/N further. Before they went to scream at him again, Thor decided to intervene.

“My Y/N! You seem awfully invigorated this morning,” He commented.

At the voice of their friend, Y/N turned and their mood was immediately brightened. “Thor! I had no idea you were coming.”

Loki looked at his brother with quiet contempt, “Of course you weren’t notified, my brother is known for making an entrance.

He turned back to Y/N, “Why don’t you ever address me with such kindness, carissima.” He said, dejectedly.

Y/N raised a finger to Loki’s face, once again going to scold him, before being interrupted by amused laughter from Thor.

“Well it’s nice to see that you’ve at least shifted to addressing one another with pleasantries.” Thor said.

Immediately Loki’s face filled with dread. Y/N looked at them both, surprised.

“You call that pleasantries?” Y/N asked, “He’s been insulting me in a dead language since we met.”

They spat the words in Loki’s face, but it was not met with his usual humourous demeanor.

Thor scoffed with delight, “I hardly think dearest is an insult, Y/N.”

Y/N was taken aback. No, that’s not what he’d been calling them, had he?

The expression on Loki’s face displayed nothing but truth at the fellow God’s statement, “Thor, please--” Loki said through gritted teeth.

Thor only smirked, intending to continue the teasing. “What else has he called you, Y/N? I speak fluent latin myself.”

Still shocked by the revelation, but not diffused in their anger, Y/N thought back to what he had called them before dearest.

“Well--he, he also called me amata.” Y/N said.

Laughing once again, Thor turned to his brother, “Oh, did he?” Thor asked.

Flustered, Loki tried to direct attention elsewhere, “Aren’t you supposed to be looking for Valkyrie? Or someone else to pester?” He asked.

Thor only smiled, “No I’m quite enjoying myself here, brother.”

“And as for the name amata,” Thor explained, “It means beloved. I think you’ve mistaken my brother’s flirtations for aggravations, Y/N.”

The three stood, not saying anything more as the passerby’s at the market weaved around them. Y/N snuck a glance at Loki, who was now desperately avoiding eye contact. Could it be that all this time, he was secretly calling Y/N terms of endearment?

He made no objections; only furthering the obvious truth that he had been.

Y/N didn’t know what to think, or what to say.

“Well,” Thor started, “I believe my work here is done. I shall leave you to each other.”

He looked up into the marketplace, “Joseph, so good to see you my friend!”

He parted, calling for the man at the nearby mead cart, while the other two still stood, not saying a word.

Loki quietly scorned his brother; of course he had to expose him. Now Y/N was aware of his secret fondness towards them, someone who already hated him more than he’d like.

“Melilla.” Y/N said.

Loki looked at Y/N, surprised by the word. “Pardon?” He asked.

Y/N hummed, “It’s another name, that you-um.. That you call me.”

“Oh,” Loki nodded, understanding what Y/N meant.

“Well,” he started, hesitant, “It means… little honey.”

“And why do you call me that,” Y/N asked, “Because I’m sweet?”

“No,” Loki defended, “You aren’t sweet. You’re the opposite. Um--bitter, and-and full of disdain--”

He was stopped by the laughter that escaped Y/N, but as he looked at them, he realized he was not the subject of their laughter but that Y/N was laughing with him. Though Loki would never admit it aloud, he found that much more pleasurable than any of the emotions he’d evoked from their banter.

“You aren’t… upset with me?” He asked earnestly.

Y/N looked to the ground, shifting in their stance with hands placed behind their back.

“Not entirely,” Y/N admitted, “I mean… it would’ve been nice to know you weren’t calling me an asshole this whole time.”

Loki chuckled bashfully, “Well, for that, I suppose I can apologize.”

An awkward silence came between them; not knowing what to say. It was surprising, to say the least, the new perspective that had been given to their situation. Loki’s need to be in Y/N’s presence, the constant chatting that what was thought to be filled with insults were now revealed to have been filled with kindness, and arguably, affection. Even on Y/N’s end; the frustrations of his disappearances and the concern for safety during his reckless shenanigans, were those too filled with care?

Loki cleared his throat to break the quiet. “So,” he started, “do you have much to tend to this afternoon?”

Y/N rolled their eyes at the obvious attempt to change the conversation, “Well if you’re going to continue being an idiot, then yes.”

“And.. if I cease, the idiocy?” He asked.

Y/N smiled, “Well, it wouldn’t necessarily be the worst thing, if you helped me with some... stuff down at the docks.”

He chuckled, amused. “You’re actually asking me to accompany you, for once?”

“Yes, I guess I am.” Y/N said. He went to speak before they stopped him, “But on one condition.”

“Oh?” He asked, “and what’s that?”

“That,” Y/N said, “If you’re going to compliment me, at least do it in a language I understand.”

He smiled, “Anything for you, dearest.”

First Loki fic ✅

Inspiration also goes to @damntonystarkandhissmile for the gender neutral ask 💕 I hope you like Loki babe 🤪

Permanent Tag List: @babyblue-07 @fandomsfallnomore @elliee1497@lonewolf471 @babybluereads @marianas-studyblr @godspeedlover@sexwithhiddlesbatch @annestine @shower-me-with-roses

@yougottalovefandoms

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #MCU loki #loki x reader #Loki Laufeyson x Reader #loki imagine #loki fanfic #loki x gender neutral reader #loki x gn!reader #loki x ace reader

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ahjustroza · 3 years

Note

Do you have any hcs abt Last Legacy modern au?

Sorry for the wait! I just write very slow 🥺😭 btw I am still writing other requests! I'll post them as soon as I finish writing ✨😌😏 And YES I still take requests😏😏😏

Lol btw I haven't played the catboy Felix tale yet but found his delicious CG. Also, there might be typos etc. My dyslexia was a hoe for the last couple of days (･_･

Last Legacy Modern Au Headcanons

Sage

Lmao the first time you went to his place you faced with an ancient-looking old computer that he found in a garage sale

"It still works"

"Sage with its monitor alone you can heat your entire house in winter"

"Aye, but I don't have to use that to get heated if you catch my drift."

Let me give you a concept: thrift store dates

You took him to a thrift store once and thought it might be fun

But at the moment you entered the store Sage found a damn fake fur jacket and gold sunglasses

He will buy anything with a famous brand logo and say it is original and is an antique

But he'll only do that to annoy people

Mostly.

Sage cares about his looks but doesn't go crazy about it

Before dating you he just lived his life like a street kid like in cyberpunk 2077

Sage and Tulsi grew up in slums and then Sage got an apartment so that Tulsi could grow up in a safe environment

He didn't go to college but made sure that Tulsi did

Sage basically works as a mercenary in the modern au as well

He travels a lot and has to disappear for a looong long time

Tulsi is used to it but you aren't

Once you two are in a relationship and he feels ready to settle down he might get a job closeby to your shared house

You made him realize that he needs his family around him

And now he is not alone to carry all the burden by himself

He knows that if he can't make it in time you will be there to help out Tulsi or take care of all the work for him

He feels lighter around you

Also, he makes many people jealous on the streets lol

Whenever you two are on a date no one can believe that you, a literal divine being, could look at a Boku no pico catboy maid-sama man like him.

He is also jealous of you

But never possessive

He likes to send you out of context memes in the worst possible times ever

Like you got Luigi and Mario animations, doing the waltz, with the Britney Spears' Toxic song during the busiest hour of your shift

He also texted "This us"

The audacity

Sage would also LOVE video games

Especially Final Fantasy games

But he suck at playing them so he makes you play instead

And he'll give instructions too

"I saw a checkpoint in the other room babe,"

"Love, I gotta run away from the boss right now."

"It's not the boss, bosses have their boss rooms. This is an obstacle"

Sage also suck at filing taxes

So good luck with that

I can see Sage having PTSD treatments because of his traumatized childhood and the life he had to live until now after settling down with you

You convinced him to go to therapy and Tulsi backed you up

So he will take medications every day

At first, you had to remind him a lot, but then he just made it an addiction and now doesn't need reminders

He was never happier and finally had a taste of a healthy and caring relationship with you

He is also not so terrible with putting the IKEA furniture together.

Felix

He got expelled from Harvard.

Then his rich father had to convince the headmaster to reconsider the decision and Felix ended up with suspension instead smh

Felix's grades are great but he has disciplinary issues

I can see him majoring in criminal justice and mortuary science

Or maybe just mortuary science

Escell was very disappointed in him.

He is also famous for dating with the valedictorian among Harvard graduates

Then they broke up and you yeeted yourself in his life

Or he yeeted himself to your arms

He literally dramatically fell one day and you happened to be close to catch him

Then the Titanic music played in the background with the slow summer rain fell down to your heads

You are hot so he was flustered

Like he internally screamed when he fell in your arms

Or shall I say fell in love?

You two then started as friends since not too later he found out that he might actually have a chance with you after you mentioned your love of video games and romance books

After starting to date he confessed that he has an AO3 account asddgf

Rime was a burden too

He was the one who broke Felix's heart

But still wanted him to only love him and him alone

Then you were like

"Hoe listen to me..."

Rime hot

But no

Felix cried until morning the day you fist fought Rime in the grocery store parking lot

AAHGDHFA

Scylla secretly approved your determination that day and watched the fight afar

Escell got drunk and Florian came home the day after for everyone's explanations

The deeper your relationship got the more a part of his family you become

I mean every Friday it was now a routine that Felix and you attended family dinner

No one even asks anymore they just put your plate down and Escell hides his most expensive wine bottles from everyone

Felix is not good to live in his own house though

He always lived with someone in the house so he wasn't alone

Ever.

When you moved into the same house with him Felix was relieved

You two will be emos together and watch fifty shades of grey movies during the quarantine

Please ask Felix if he thinks the movie is interesting, he will avoid you all day long

Then become a blanket burrito at night lmao

Oh btw he might tell you random facts about mortuary

Like you are in the shower and he comes in to brush his teeth

Then he'll tell you a fact you didn't have to know then leave

"Truly fascinating, if you ask me."

He is also the type to text you from the other side of the room

Or call you from the other room to ask you if you can bring him something to eat

Felix would also love to go to the farmers' market too

"Finally some quality food."

Whenever you two go on a vacation together

lmao someone ALWAYS takes his hand and reads his palm

Only to be ended up getting scolded and getting a proper palm reading from Felix

Anisa

Call her and ask if she wants drive tru

"Love, it is thREE IN THE MORNING, I have work tomorrow-"

"So two? Or nah?"

"Get a coffee."

Actually, she wants a cookie but won't admit it

She knows you'll get her a cookie

You always get her a cookie with coffee

Anisa might be a great investigator if you ask me

If not a detective or a police chief or lieutenant

But I think she would work in law enforcement

Or she might also start her own company and rise as well

Unlike Sage and Felix, Anisa will not live in the same house with you before she decides to settle down for good

It's not because she doesn't want you around her

But because she is always at work and doesn't want to leave everything to you to handle at home

But she is always with you on her day offs

Will call you once a day at least

Text you during her breaks or whenever she can

If you can show up at her workplace during the lunch break she will take you to the nearest coffee shop

"Their coffee is not nearly as good as yours, but among other shops, this is the most drinkable one."

She will spoil you during your dates!

She likes to see you smile and will do anything for you to have a good time with her

So expect sweets, movie nights, amusement park dates, or just traveling during both of your yearly week/month offs/breaks

She won't admit it but likes it when you try to match your clothes with hers

She will know your favorite everythings lol

Take her to a dinner date and she will be so happy and feel spoiled

She will let you paint her nails

Let you get all the hot water in the shower

Will let you wear her clothes

Pillow fights are allowed every now and then

When she gets sick she'll try to power through but likes it when you baby her

Whenever you get sick she will try to not fuss over you but every 15 minutes she'll ask to take you to see a doctor

She is a cereal gal

You might have to drag her to bed many nights because she will take work at home

Oh my god, do play dungeons and dragons with her

If you visited somewhere she has never been she will ask a lot of questions about your trip

Likes to binge a tv series you two found online

Also enjoys just silent but comfortable moments with you

When you read your book she will gaze at you

All heart eyes

Will put her favorite picture of you two as her profile picture in her social media accounts

Will like your every post

ALWAYS TEXTS BACK TO YOU. ALWAYS.

Never leaves you on read/seen

She will either give you a proper text or just let you know that she is busy at the moment

Also if you come home later than her she will ask if you want her to prepare anything special you want for dinner

otherwise, she'll do dishes that you both like anyway

If she is late, she'll call you to ask if you need anything from the grocery store, etc.

#last legacy #felix escellun #fictif last legacy #fictif games #sage lesath #fictif #fictif felix #fictif sage #sage last legacy #felix iskandar escellun #felix headcanons #last legacy sage headcanons #sage lesath headcanons #anisa headcanons #anisa anka headcanons #last legacy headcanons #some writing

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vizowrites · 3 years

Text

That’s One Hell of a Resume

{Set during the Harvest Moon Festival competitions}

~*~

To Blitzø’s great surprise, the Harvest Moon Festival was actually turning out to not be a fuck fest invite after all.

He honestly hadn’t been sure when the games initially kicked off. The horde of imps that had come to compete for the title of “the roughest, toughest, bastard in Wrath” had a proclivity for violence that could easily--and not inaccurately--be described as a passion. Then of course there was Stolas, watching him thirstily from atop his fancy seat underneath his fancy tent, cooing and cheering out “Blitzyyyyy!!'' at every opportunity he got to speak. Yet the honored owl prince somehow still managed to keep his pants on throughout each and every event--and even more impressively managed to keep his degrading sweet talk void of any sexual obscenities. He hadn’t even been able to manage that much on a day trip to a theme park with his daughter. Yet somehow...this wasn’t even the best part of the festival to Blitzø. It was up there to be sure, but it wasn’t the toppiest top. The “dom of the disco”**, if you will.

No, the BEST part of the festival--and the thing that kept the imp grinning from ear to ear throughout the entire competition--was that this honkytonk battle royale was shaping up to be the perfect opportunity to show off and be recognized for just how much of a boss-ass bitch Blitz actually was: 2nd to absolutely fucking none.

Well...maybe with ONE slight exception.

“I gotta say, you just keep on impressin’ me every chance you get,” that one slight exception said with a smirk, the tip of his tail flicking forward into a small curl. “No wonder your killin’ biz is so successful. You do every kill single-handed there, Boss Man?” The two were standing off on the sidelines together during one of the many interims inbetween contests, where the first round winners had already secured their victories and now were stuck watching the remaining shitty losers battle it out to find out which of them would end up being the absolute shittiest loser. It was taking a stupidly long-ass time, a hell of a lot longer than Blitzø would’ve normally had the patience for, but with his present company leaning up against the bleacher stands like that.....there were definitely worse ways he could be spending his down time right now.

“Nah,” he answered with a small flick of his wrist, gesturing vaguely in the general direction of where he’d last seen Moxxie getting his ass kicked and Millie sitting in the stands watching it happen. “I know he’s not doing a great job of showing it right now--” he said just as Moxxie got elbow dropped by a shark “--but Moxxie’s not completely useless. He did get me shot on a job once while he was in the middle of being a little bitch, but as soon as he finally found his balls again, he got things back under control pretty fast. And Millie’s just a straight up badass. If her parents had allowed her to play in the games, you’d have gotten your ass handed to you three rounds ago.”

“That so?” Striker’s lips drew back into a slight smirk, just enough for the light to catch on the very tip of his fanged gold tooth. “Because I seem to remember a certain someone else bein’ the one to get themselves all roped up in a hogtie about three rounds ago.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about but it sounds like complete bullshit.”

“That’s kinda what I was thinkin’ myself to be honest after that first relay run--” Those snake-like eyes raked in every inch of Blitz’s annoyed face, feeling the corners of his own pleasantly sting as his grin spread even wider. “Right up ‘til I saw some o’that nice red color risin’ up in their face--”

“IT’S HOT--THERE ARE FUCKING VOLCANOES NEARBY OKAY!!” Blitz realized, very quickly, just how loud and defensive those words sounded, but he also realized just as quickly that there wasn’t anything he could do to take them back now. Instead, he straightened himself up, cleared his throat, pretended that there wasn’t some of ‘that nice red color’ in his face now, and said in what he thought was a much more nonchalant voice, “Anyway, I’m starving, and since these last few dipshits are taking forever to get their asses kicked, I’m gonna go find something deep-fried to shove down my throat. Catch you at the awards ceremony or whatever the fuck they do around here to finish themselves off.”

The I.M.P. Head made it a grand total of two steps before the unmistakable crunch of boots sounded behind him, followed by a faint scoff of a laugh and the distinct rattling of a tail as Striker joined him at his side.

“There’s a whole row of food stands back there behind the stage,” he said with a nod, meeting Blitzø’s stride and starting to veer them off in that direction. “And now that you mention it, I wouldn’t mind grabbin’ a bite. Besides--I feel like I might owe you one for bringin’ up such a tender subject.”

The unrepentant but non-malicious smirk he sent Blitz’s way wasn’t at all softened by the wink that accompanied it, but it somehow brought a slight smile to the smaller imp’s lips all the same.

“You got fucking lucky and that was it,” Blitz insisted with a sharp flick of his tail, not having the faintest fucking clue why he was smiling about this in the first place but subconscioiusly hoping that swatting at Striker would be distracting enough that the taller imp wouldn’t notice. “And besides, I could’ve gotten out of it if I had really wanted to.”

“Oh, so you wanted to be all tied up like that?” The grin that spread across Striker’s face was even wider than the first, his razor sharp teeth now on full display. “Well now, if that’s what you were wantin’ you could’ve just asked. I’d’ve been happy to oblige right from the start.”

“Ha! Like I’d ever make it that easy for you,” Blitzø retorted with a challenging grin, his eyes dancing with a truly impish gleam of delight as he and Striker rounded the stage together, his earlier thoughts of the food shacks that waited beyond almost entirely forgotten as they were overtaken by memories of their constant back-and-forth scuffle throughout the festival. “You beating me fair and square is one thing--even though you still totally just got really fucking lucky and also it definitely never even happened in the first place. But if you were actually going to beat me...you better believe it’s not gonna happen without a fight. I don’t just bow out like some sloppy bitch who can’t figure out where they put their car keys and has to take the walk of shame back to their shitty apartment at 4 in the morning. If you wanna come out on top over me, you better fucking work for it.”

The black tip of his pointed tail flicked up to poke Striker once in the center of his chest, punctuating the word ‘work’ perfectly.

Striker’s tail, on the other hand, began to rattle.

“Yeah?” he said, his earlier easy tone starting to become weighted with something softer, but deeper. Neither he nor Blitzø made any indication that they were aware that he was guiding them both right on past the front of the stand that they had originally been headed toward, and instead had them disappearing into the shadows behind it. “You’re okay with not coming out on top so long as whoever does earns their place there?”

“I mean...” Blitzø trailed off a bit as he casually leaned up against the back of the stand, folding his arms over his chest as he eyed Striker with that lingering gleam in his own gaze. “You have been able to keep up with me in all the other games...so I guess it might be possible for you to get the upper hand on me for at least one of them.”

“Just me?” The rattling sound intensified.

“Well there sure as fuck wasn’t anyone else who was able to keep up,” Blitzø rolled his eyes in annoyed exasperation at just how much everyone else truly sucked in comparison to the two of them, before he slowly looked back up at Striker--and realized that the snake-like imp was suddenly a lot closer than he’d been before. Much closer.

“...Striker?”

“Yeah, Blitz?”

“Please tell me we’re not actually talking about the fucking games anymore.”

A short, soft laugh was the initial answer, followed by that still rattling tail coiling around Blitz’s slender waist as Striker propped himself up on one arm against the structure behind them, his hand splayed just to the side of the crimson imp’s right cheek.

“I haven’t been talkin’ about the games since you got me with your tail, Darlin’,” he whispered, his hooded eyes narrowing to glowing slits of pale gold as he leaned in almost close enough to touch. “But I don’t know if there ain’t somethin’ to be said about that “fuckin’” part yet...”

Blitz’s words came back to him then, ringing in his head as clear as when he first said them:

“...Well if you promise this isn’t some fuck fest invite...”

“.....You gonna work for it, Cowboy?”

“Yessir, Boss Man.”

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

“So...lemme get this straight--” Blitzø finally shifted his weight, easing it off of Striker and rolling to rest his back on whatever podunk concession stand they’d spent the last ten minutes fucking up against. “--You tie me for first place in the games, you ride around on the most majestic fucking horse I’ve ever seen, you take down a hell hog with a single stab while completely and mercilessly humiliating one of my employees in front of his in-laws at the same fucking time, and you called me “Sir” when we first met? AND you’re a great fuck??”

The quirked eyebrow and smug gold-toothed grin he got in reply said more than words ever could, especially when accompanied by the satisfied rattling of that long, spiked tail.

“That’s one hell of a resume you’ve got there.” Blitzø didn’t even realize his own face had split into a grin until he saw it reflected in Striker’s eyes, hypnotized by the sheer reckless abandon he felt ignited between them. “Want to join I.M.P.?”

Striker couldn’t help but laugh, reaching up to adjust the brim of his hat from where Blitz’s tail had nearly knocked it off, his unwavering gaze sparking into an infernal glow.

“Tell you what,” he said, his tone a warm rumble of amusement meeting temptation. “You and I head on back to the stage, revel in our well-deserved glory, and--once we’re satisfied it’s been rubbed into the faces of those sorry ass losers enough--I’ll head on back up to the farm and have a little talk with Miss Mildred’s folks about finishin’ things up around here for the season. Maybe see if they can find another set of hands to join ‘em for the next one if mine are gonna be occupied with--” His hand found its way down to Blito’s face, the sharp claw-like nail of his thumb pressing under the shorter imp’s chin to tilt it up towards his own. “--other things.”

“Believe me, Cowboy,” Blitzø’s eyes were burning, twin embers of eagerness that ran so deep he could feel the heat of it vibrating through to his very core--and his vocal chords. “You’re not going to find a more hands-on job than the one you’re gonna get if you come and work for me. ESPECIALLY in that order.”

Striker’s tail snaked its way up and along past Blitz’s hip, the pointed tip flicking over his chest as it’s rattle joined in the chorus of that deep, heated purring.

“Don’t mind if I hold you to that, Sir.”

“Oh fuck me--”

And Striker did. Again.

~*~

Random Notes:

**My counterpart to the phrase “the belle of the ball”--”the dom of the disco”. I think I’m way funnier than I actually am. :D

ANYWAY tho I really hope y’all like it!! This is the first fanfic I’ve posted anywhere publicly in a hot minute so I hope it’s not a bad kickoff to something I’m hoping to really get back into!! I have plans to post the full fic of this--with the non-censored sex scene to my AO3 oohlala--so if that’s something you’d like to see, feel free to lemme know here and I can get right on that!! Otherwise have a great day, thanks for reading, and if anyone wants to hit me up for some lovely BlitzStrike talks, I’m always open to messages!!

Thanks again Lovelies!! <3

#BlitzStrike #Striker x Blitzo #Blitzo x Striker #Helluva Boss fanfiction #Helluva Boss #vizowrites

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

Can you do one where reader (who's partners with them) goes on a date and Javi happens to already be at the same bar the date takes place and at one point the reader doesn't feel good so she seeks out Javi and he quickly realizes she's been roofied?

I love protective Javi, but then again, don’t we all?

Warnings: drug mention, mention of violence, mentions of sex but nothing descriptive, language, 18+ only!

Javier Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

Javier was a lot of things. A walking contradiction as much as he was steadfast in his ways. When you’d first met him, you’d been severely tempted to punch him right in his smug handsome face with that stupid charming grin, and that singular dumb dimple that already made your heart flutter.

It was your first day on the job, a fresh, brand new agent and the bastard had the nerve to ask you to fetch him a coffee. Not only that, but the way he had the balls to end the request with a slow, drawn sweetheart.

You’d exchanged a wry look with Steve, the golden haired man you already decided you liked much better. He had shrugged innocently and turned back to his papers with what you were positive was a smug little grin on his face. Back then you’d been annoyed, but looking back on it now, several years later, you realized it had been a sort of pseudo-test; to see if you’d meld into Javi’s advances or hold your own.

“No,” you’d told Javier firmly, watching as surprise look slowly crept into his features, “go fuck yourself and get your own coffee, old man.”

You’d never seen Steve laugh harder or Javier more in shock than that morning. To say you had proven yourself to both men was an understatement.

To say you ended up developing feelings for that stupid, dark haired, motherfucker was a gross understatement. Fallen in head first and through stuck in lust love with him was a much more accurate sentiment. Although you would never admit that to him or anyone else, let alone yourself.

Instead you settled on other things.

I love your cock. I love when you fuck me like this. I love when you use your mouth on me.

Yeah...it had quickly turned into that.

But Javier reciprocated in kind.

I love your pussy, just like you were made for me. I love when you get on your knees. I love how you look covered in my cum.

It was a lot of lust turned into love, but neither of you would ever admit that. Besides, it was never going to amount to anything; it was just some stress relief between two coworkers that understood each other more intimately than anyone else. No one knew the horrors of what either of you when through on a daily basis. But the two of you knew, and took solace in that fact.

You weren’t sure when the lines became so blurred, but you were almost positive it was around the same time that Javier made your relationship trysts an exclusive thing. No one else, just you and Javi. And damn. You liked that more than anything else.

But it wasn’t going to last forever; no, you knew that well from the start. What started out a one time thing that slowly stretched into more was never going behind that. You were sure of it, despite how good, how alive and protected and safe he made you feel, it was never going anywhere besides your dirty secret. Even the brightest stars burned out at some point.

Which is why when an agent from another department, a non-noteworthy average man, asked you out for dinner and drinks you said yes. It wasn’t an enthusiastic yes by any means, and the way your eyes had flicked to Javier before you agreed to go wasn’t lost on either of you. But he remained still and said nothing while you offered up a small yes.

Before the end of the day, you’d wandered over to his desk, ready to explain yourself, but he was quick to cut you off, not even looking up from his papers. You’re free to see anyone, Dulzura, he insisted in a gruff tone, have fun.

The part that hurt was the most was the fact that he didn’t bother to stop you as you walked out, even lingering for a moment at the door. The light bit of foolish hope you’d clung onto was for no reason after all. But at least you had an answer now. Javier was nothing more than a release.

»»————-　♡　————-««

All this nodding and smiling was going to give you a sore face and a headache, you realized. For a man that seemed so unassuming, he sure did love talking about himself. At one point when you drifted off from the conversation and let your mind wander, you’d looked across the crowded bar, and noticed him.

Of course he’d decided to come here to unwind after a long. Typical. Part of you momentarily wondered if he’d overheard you making your plans in order to come and watch you, but you weren’t going to flatter yourself that much. Chances, coincidence, mere happenstance. Besides that, it was a popular bar, and not an unsurprising place to find anyone on a Friday night.

But when you’d caught his eye, he offered you only a stiff little half smile, and you could visibly see the muscles in his neck stiffen as you raised your glass lightly in a mock salute. It didn’t a genius to figure out he was in a bad mood.

After some time, when you’d downed your greasy bar food, and finished off yet another drink, you still found yourself unable to handle your date. You couldn’t just sneak out, no that would be too obvious and awkward, especially come Monday when you were all back at the office. Instead, you settled on excusing yourself to use the restroom, hoping that if you spent long enough there he would take the hint.

Slipping off the stool, you almost dashed to the bathroom, making your way through the crowd and brushing against past Javier. He watched you bolt away with a curious expression, wondering what had caused the sudden escape. Internally sighing, he studied the man that was your date and frowned. You could have chosen anyone in the world, preferably him, but you’d chosen David of all the people. The man was a joke, a downright fool, and yet you’d said yes.

Fuck. But he could only blame himself. He’d never made a move, and every time he wanted to, especially after you started falling asleep in his arms, he talked himself out of it. It was just sex and companionship, he was sure of it. And now? Well, he been a fool and missed his chance. He narrowed his eyes at your date, wishing it was socially appropriate to go and beat the shit out of him. But he had reason to, and didn’t need to stir up anything. Instead, he decided to silently simmer, and told himself that he’d cut things off with you soon.

It was the right thing to do. Or so he thought.

He watched as you slowly flounced back and downed the rest of your drink, pretending to be engaged in conversation. He knew that face anywhere; the one you used when you feigned interest. Usually it made him laugh, but no? It caused a pit in the bottom of stomach.

But Javier was determined to stay, to keep an eye on you. Something in his gut was telling him that was something was off. And although he knew his instincts were clouded by his overwhelming feelings for you, he always knew that his feelings were rarely wrong.

So he stayed, long after his own companion had left and watched. Watched as you started acting more odd and more strange as you consumed another drink. It was a dramatic shift from your previous demeanor but your date was unphased. At one point, you swayed dramatically in your stool and almost fell to the floor.

Javier almost jumped to his feet as you straightened up and excused yourself again. He could see you mumbling something as the asshole man in question nodding, giving you a grin not unlike that of a wicked wolf.

Slowly stumbling through the crowd you knew something was off. Nothing felt right and the world seemed woozy and far away. You did however, recognize one thing...well, person. Javier. You wobbled over to him on unsure legs as he leaped to his feet, large, strong hands going to your waist to steady you.

“Javi,” your mouth felt heavy and dry and his name came off more than a whimper, a pathetic plea, as you met his dark eyes. His expression was somewhere between intense concern and furious anger as he helped to sick you down in the both, shoving a glass of water at you, “I don’t feel good. Feels weird...wrong. I-I don’t know what to do.”

“Look at me, Dulzura,” he gentle took your chin in his hand as he tried to study your face, but your head kept wanting to lull around. He gritted his teeth as he quickly put two and two together. A growl, primal and instinctive sounded deep in his throat as he look back at your date. Your date that was suddenly mysteriously disappeared.

The rat bastard had made a hasty escape as soon as you saw go to Javi.

He was a dead man.

“Javi,” you mumbled softly, “can you help? Please? I know you hate me now, but I dunno what to do.”

“I could never hate you,” he insisted as he held up the water for you to drink. You made quick work of downing it, feeling slightly less parched than before but still as miserable. Javi easily scooped you up in his arms, clutching you tightly to his chest as you mumbled incomprehensible things, “we’re going home. I’ve got you now.”

“’s okay Javi,” you managed to get out as you buried your head in his chest, “‘iloveyou.”

He stiffened at your words, unsure if you’d actually said those words, or if he was just a hopeful fool. Either way, that wasn’t his name concern at the moment. Getting you safe and into bed was top priority.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“J-Javi?” your voice cracked on his name as you realized just how dry your throat still was. Blinking the bleariness out of your eyes, you studied your surroundings, only realizing after a few moments that you were in his bedroom. A tall glass of water was on his bedside table, along with some pain killers. You took both without hesitation.

On cue, almost as if he could sense you were awake, a soft knock came on the door before he slowly opened the door. He let out a long exhale of relief when he realized you were awake and seemingly okay. Your eyes were wide and worried with your lips pulled into a small frown.

“How are you feeling?” he came in and sat at the foot of the bed, studying you with those eyes you swore you could see right into your soul. You shrugged as you set the glass down and tried not to cry.

“Alright I guess,” you sighed, feeling like an idiot, “I’m a fool. I can’t believe I let that happen. I don’t know I didn’t see it last night...I’m a fucking DEA Agent and I can’t tell when I’m getting drugged. I should be fired and sent right back home.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he reached over and gave your knee a gentle squeeze, “it could have happened to anyone. Please don’t blame yourself for it. That guy was a fucking asshole.”

“Javier,” you leaned forward and reached for his hand, taking it gingerly in yours as you studied it. His dominant hand, as well as the other was covered in cuts and bruises, all sorts of colors already and swollen. He made a small sound in the back of his throat as your mouth dropped open, “what happened....Javi. Oh, Javier, please tell me this isn’t what I think it is...”

“He had it coming,” was all he said as he held your hand in his, holding onto it protectively, “he’s lucky I didn’t kill him. I thought about it...”

“What if he tells-”

“I’m not worried about that.”

“Javier-”

“Listen,” he stopped you gently, “I had been thinking about doing it all night. From the moment I saw him with you. This just gave me a reason to do it.”

“What do you mean?” you bit your bottom lip as you met his eyes, the two of you watching each other with a silent intensity as you tried not to let your hopes get the better of you. Javier reached up and gently touched your cheek, brushing his fingers over your soft skin and stopping at your lips, “please don’t say something you don’t mean. Please.”

“Why do you think I won’t mean it?” he asked as you dropped his gaze, playing with your hands as you tried to keep your heart from beating out of your chest, “god, I’ve fucking meant it for years. I just can’t ever say it, but when I saw you with that piece of shit, I knew. I should have just-”

“I love you,” and just like that those three words the both of you had danced around for years were out in the air. And it had been so easy, so simple - effortless. But it didn’t stop the nerves, the fear of rejection, the fear of the unknown. You chanced a peek at him, watched as a look of sheer panic crossed his features before settling into the softest expression you’d ever seen.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a slight nod of head, laughing at the absurdity of the situation, “that’s what I’ve been trying to say.”

“Say it then, asshole,” you laughed lightly, feeling your heart settle as your normal rapport started to bubble through, “or you can kiss my ass.”

“I’m not opposed to that-”

“Javier,” you jokingly groaned as he pulled you forward, but just enough to press a soft kiss to your lips, “some things never change, huh?”

“Nope,” he laughed, “but it’s true.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

#javier peña #Javier peña x reader #Pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #javier pena

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forcefullyawake · 3 years

Text

This is for @cupcake-rogue’s like a virgin collab!

Denki x F! Reader

Warnings: None, tooth rotting fluff, and a suggestive ending.

Summary: Sometimes the right person runs into you. Literally. Other times it’s a hero who’s not watching where he’s going.

WC: 1.9k

Denki Kaminari doesn’t do being nervous.

He’s a hero, a pro, top ten. He worked his ass off during UA, his internships, did everything right, shed his jokester ways, and in the first hero rankings he was in? He placed higher thank even Bakugo. He’s impressive, he thinks, tall and blonde, having grown into himself after those first few awkward years. The point is he’s not nervous around women anymore, doesn’t stutter over his words or make inappropriate comments. He’s cool, mature, a catch for any woman.

Until, that is, he quite literally runs into you.

“I’m fucking late,” Denki announces to nobody- it’s not like anybody stayed over the night before. It’s a true testament to who he is now that his morning routine can be essentially cut in half and almost nothing goes wrong during it. His hero costume is not only easy to get on, but something that works well with his usual wardrobe, so that he can be out the door in under twenty minutes for times like these.

“Shit, shit, shit,” He mutters to himself, finally getting all the buttons into place right when the elevator opens up to the ground floor. It’s impressive, actually, that he manages to run into you. With a quirk like his, he’s learned to be constantly aware of his surroundings so nobody gets shocked accidentally. Today, however, he’s not thinking straight and runs directly into you, knocking you (and your paperwork) to the ground.

He stops dead in his tracks, wanting more than anything to start apologizing, helping you pick things up. You know, things any normal person or hero would do but he finds himself stuck in place. You’re… hot, for lack of a better word. He’ll think of some later. He can’t put his finger on it, but there’s something about you that has him immediately bewitched- mind, body, and soul, just like that. You’re standing now, a scowl on your face and- hey you’re snapping your fingers for some reason, maybe he should listen in.

“Hello? Is anybody any there?” Your voice is understandably irritated, looking him up and down quickly before huffing. “Whatever. Watch where you’re going next time, jerk.” You spin away from him, taking his hopes and dreams right with you. But you walk into his apartment building, and through the glass doors that stand between you he sees you walk to the manager- so you’re either gonna live there or work there. Either way he has a second chance.

His phone buzzes incessantly in his pocket, and a quick glance tells him it’s Mineta, demanding to know where he is- is he okay? Was there a villain attack? Denki shoots off a quick text saying he’s just overslept before hurrying on his way.

It’s not until later, when he’s finally in his office, that Denki realizes how he was feeling.

For the first time, in a very long time, Denki Kaminari was nervous. All because of you.

“Stupid hero, not watching where he was stupidly going,” You mutter under your breathe before plastering on a smile when your new apartment manager steps into view. God, this place is so nice. You can’t wait to move in. You have to dropped off the signed leasing forms and then give the place one last look around before the moving trucks start coming in.

The meeting goes smoothly, which helps ease whatever leftover tension you have from the morning. The keys are in your hands, the boxes are piling up, and your neighbor is out for the day it looks like so you can play music as loudly as you dare. Your day goes just about as well as a moving day can. You get the important things set up first- bed, tv, coffee maker. The creature comforts for when you’re inevitably exhausted tomorrow. You hear movement in the other apartment, frowning at the shared wall with how clearly you can. Hm, that might be annoying. Still, you don’t plan on turning down the music unless asked.

Almost like clockwork you hear a knock on your door. You pause to lower the volume to a more acceptable level before opening the door, ready to introduce yourself and apologize, make a good first impression and all that only to see-

“You!” You raise an accusatory finger- at the hero who knocked you over and did nothing this morning. “You can’t be my neighbor!”

“I-” He starts, having the good sense to at least look a little sheepish now. “I’m sorry?” His hand comes up to scratch at the back of his head, making him look even more nervous but you can see his eyes looking over your shoulder to peer into your apartment.

“Yeah, you should have said that this morning,” It holds less venom than you want, especially when you get distract by the muscles his actions put on display. Huh. Your new neighbor is incredibly built. You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “Again, whatever. I turned the music down. Goodnight.” You go to close the door but his voice stops you.

“Hold on, I wasn’t going to ask you to turn it down,” He starts, finally looking away from your apartment, “I liked it. And maybe you can play it for me now? I could help you put stuff away? Make up for this morning?”

You should say no. You’re already getting tired, you have stuff beyond packing to do tomorrow, and it’s stupid to let a complete stranger into your house. Even if he’s a pro hero. And even if he’s cute. You should tell him to get lost. Instead, you open your mouth to hear yourself say,

“Sure, come on in.”

Denki can’t believe his luck when you open your door a little wider to let him in.

He was so sure you were going to say no- hell, even you looked a little confused when yes came out of your mouth, but he wasn’t going to question it too much. Your place already looked a lot cozier than his, with decorations half in the boxes, even. You have photos up on the walls already, pictures of people who look like you too and people who look like your friends. His own apartment is pretty sparse, just a place he can sleep and eat in.

“Could you help me in the kitchen?” Your voice carries through the space, having left him behind. “I have some stuff that need to go onto the top shelf.” He follows blindly, biting down so hard on his lower lip it almost bleed when he sees you. You’re not doing anything scandalous, just putting dishes away but the way your arms are raised over your head have given him a glimpse at your skin where your shirt has ridden up. He can feel the blood rush south in his body, embarrassingly.

“Stop ogling and start helping,” You snap over your shoulder, frowning at him. That snaps him out of his daze, not wanting to leave too soon despite having another early morning shift. He grabs the box you point at, and starts to place the mugs on the top shelf. They look like gifts, he thinks, all of them printed with far too many places for one person to have visited.

“Your friends get you these?” He asks, trying to sound casually interested, not too desperate, “Or a boyfriend?” You snort at him.

“Friends, mostly, and some family,” You wait a long moment before continuing, “No boyfriends, though.” Denki internally heaves a sigh of relief.

“I don’t get out much, with my job. But I like to pretend I do,” You say, eyeing the mugs wistfully. “How about you? You travel a lot?”

“That requires taking time off,” Denki says, frowning a little as he tries to remember his last actually relaxing day off. “But you know what they say- if you love your job, you’ll never work a day in your life!”

“Oh, bullshit,” You snort out, abandoning the box you’ve been unpacking all together. “I love my job, a lot, but I have worked some days.” The tension is broken after that, with Denki asking you to elaborate and you trying to play coy until the rants just burst out of you. It’s not until your stomach gives a loud grumble that you realize neither of you have been unpacking but just talking for the past hour and a half.

It’s just late enough that a normal dinner is out of the question, but maybe you could order something in?

“I know a good ramen place that delivers here,” Denki volunteers, grinning sheepishly.

“Are you sure your quirk isn’t mind reading?” You tease him, just to watch him laugh. He’s pretty hot when he laughs, you think, then immediately try to squash the thought. Dinner first, crushing on a hero later.

Dinner is ordered.

Denki’s right, the ramen is good and it comes quick. The two of you slurp your soup in silence, the awkwardness returning from before. Denki seems almost unable to look at you now, for some reason. He focuses in so hard on his bowl you’re surprised it doesn’t go up in smoke. You want to ask him about it but you can’t figure out how to phrase the question.

For his part, Denki is having an internal meltdown. When you lean forward to take a sip of the broth your shirt pulls forward just enough that he can see the swell of your breasts. It shouldn’t affect him this much, he’s been around enough, but there’s something about the white of your bra that makes his head spin, makes him feel like a virgin all over again.

“Are you okay?” You ask him the same moment he blurts out-

“I can see your bra, I’m sorry, don’t kick me out,” All in one breath. You’re silent for a moment, and then another, and another, and Denki regrets every choice he’s made in his life until now that brought him here. You keep not saying anything and a million and one scenarios run through his head, each one worse than the next. Oh my god, what if you tell people? He’ll be known as the pervert hero, he won’t be able to work in Japan anymore, he’ll have to someplace like America or-

“Would you like to see more of it?” Your voice is soft, shy as your hands twist in the bottom of your shirt, looking at him with wide eyes. He’s sure he’s misheard you because there’s no way you’re offering what he thinks you are.

“More?” He manages to croak out. You don’t reply, but your shirt keeps going upwards. Your shirt continues upwards until it’s off of you and Denki’s brain has finally, truly short circuited.

You’re not sure what’s possessing you to be so bold- maybe the conversation, maybe the way the food has made you comfortably warm and a little drowsy, maybe you just wanna see what he’ll do next. It’s cute, endearing even, how his eyes can’t figure out where to look. He can’t decide if he wants to throw himself at you or away from you.

“More,” You agree, moving closer to him on the couch, taking the bowl from his hands to set on the table in front of you. Denki stops breathing as you move even closer to him, your face swimming in front of his eyes. “Tell me if I should stop?”

“Never,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours, tasting like a promise, sending a shiver down your spine. It’s so easy to fall into him, like you’ve known him forever, like this is as easy as breathing.

It’s sunrise, somehow. Denki is still there, blissfully unaware as you watch him sleep. Maybe it was a good thing he didn’t watch where he was going the previous morning.

Now, though, you wouldn’t mind running into him again.

#denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #denki x female reader #denki fluff #denki kaminari fluff

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sinfulspencer · 3 years

Text

You control me (even if it's just tonight)

Prompt: Y/N and the BAU's team are enjoying a night out at Rossi's.

Sex is the main topic of the night. Morgan and Y/N tease Spencer about him being “too adorable, too vanilla”, so... he has to prove he's not.

Rating: M (smut, rough sex)

Warnings: oral sex (female receiving), hair pulling, spanking, gagging, fingering, choking, over-stimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie. .

Check out my masterlist here.

The night is on your lips and I feel like I'm locked in There's a million lights, I don't care if they're watching Your body is saying everything, I don't have to read your mind

“Thank God we can finally relax, guys.” Y/N huffs

Morgan is sitting beside her, sipping his beer with a smirk on his lips. “That's the best part of the job.” Rossi and Prentiss, on the other side of the room, are chatting about what they're planning to do for this weekend while Spencer is sitting on the couch, his head thrown back against the pillow and a book open on his lap. The whole team is pretty tired after a whole week of investigations, profiles spread all over the town, sleepeless night and too many corpses found in the area. Thankfully, the help of Garcia and JJ got them to the end of the case, arrested the motherfucker and enjoyed their first night of the week with at least 9 hours of sleep. The same number of hours they got to sleep in exacty five days. Y/N is very tired and can't even keep her eyes open, so Garcia made some coffee for JJ, Y/N and herself in her adorable and weird cups. Y/N gets one with the octopus, JJ one with a shark and Garcia has her own favourite cup, one with Cinderella's fairy godmother. “Is Reid asleep?” Rossi asks, walking towards the oval table in his living room Y/N grabs a pen from the table, throwing it at Spencer as he opens his eyes. “Not anymore.”

Morgan chuckles, shaking his head. “Poor thing. He partied too hard last night, he didn't even get to sleep.” JJ and Prentiss sit down at the table, one in front of Y/N and the other next to Rossi. Y/N loves nights like this, where they could get all together for something to eat, something to drink and maybe some gossip that they couldn't share while working on a case. But she knows that somehow they'll end up talking about a case that night. Y/N doesn't mind, but sometimes it's nice to keep her mind off criminals and murderers and kidnappings. Just for one night, just for a couple of hours. Garcia walks out of the kitchen with a normal black mug in her hands. “Spencer, your coffee is ready.” He stretches his arms forward and lets out a soft sigh, nodding. Y/N grabs his coffee mug from Garcia's hands and uses her free hand to grab the sugar bowl with a spoon.

“How much sugar tonight, Spence?” asks Y/N

The doctor stands up from the couch, slowly walking towards the empty seat by her side. “Surprise me.”

Y/N simply nods, amused by the fact that he trusts her with his precious coffee. She knows he loves sugar with a little bit of coffee – that's what Morgan always says to him when he's the one making coffee for all the others at work – so she pours at least three spoons of sugar in the mug, mixing the liquid. And when the coffee is ready, Y/N hands the mug to Spencer as he leans his head on her shoulder.

“Oh, pretty boy is tired. - JJ coos, grinning – You should go to bed.”

Spencer lifts his head as Y/N wrinkles her nose, annoyed that her female colleague bothered him. She didn't mind having him laying against her like that, he was actually very warm and he smelled like vanilla.

“No, it's fine. Coffee will help me. - Spencer replies, taking out the spoon from the mug – Thank you, Y/N”

She shoots him a smile, taking a sip of her milk and coffee. “No problem. Did you come here with your car?”

He shakes his head. “No, I took the bus. I was hoping you'd give me a ride at the end of the night.”

Garcia and Prentiss look at each other. This is the first time Spencer asked Y/N for a ride – and they both know he had asked her because he wants to be alone with her for a while. The two women noticed that Spencer acted in a totally different way when he was with Y/N, than his usual self. He was more nervous, stiffer but he kept eye contact with Y/N as much as he could – and, of course, he spent a lot of time simply watching her with that dumb smile on his lips.

They tried to talk to Spencer about it, to convince him somehow to do something about his crush, but every single time they brought up “Y/N is single” or “Y/N is very pretty”, he tended to shut them down and focus on other things.

It's not really a surprise, Spencer has always been quite.. private.

Garcia and JJ, on the other hand, noticed the same thing but on Y/N's side but at least she was honest about it and straight-up told JJ that she had a very big crush on Spencer, but she didn't know what to do with him. JJ suggested her to simply flirt a bit with him, calling him with pet names or sitting by his side every time during their case. So Y/N did that. And she even got to hang out with him for a whole night.

Even though they were working on a case in his bedroom, Y/N still felt like she had won something. By the end of the night – it was almost 5 in the morning – Spencer told her that he was very tired and he wanted to go to bed, so Y/N took that as a “get out of my bedroom” sign. But then, as she was grabbing her shoes and her purse, Spencer asked her to keep him company. So she did.

And they slept in the same bedroom: Spencer on the small couch, Y/N on the king-sized bed – even though she would've loved to sleep next to him, with his arms wrapped around her and his lips pressed against her neck.

After that night, nothing “more serious” had happened. JJ told Y/N that it was fine, that it probably was a big step for him, so she just needed to wait for another on of his moves. Sure, they flirted on the jet while flying from one country to another, they worked together on other cases, she made him coffee almost every morning and he bought her lunch for three days straight, but still. Nothing else.

Y/N wanted more.

“I heard there's a new bar down the block. - Rossi says, leaning back against the chair – We could have a drink there this weekend, if you're all up for it.”

Garcia giggles, shaking her head. “I can't. I have a date, actually.”

Morgan raises an eyebrow, leaning in. “Babygirl, why didn't you tell me?”

JJ and Prentiss laugh, while Spencer takes another sip of coffee from his mug. His eyes are fixed on Y/N's face, not leaving her for a single second. She can feel his stare on her skin but she doesn't have the courage to turn around, pinch him on the thigh and tell him something. He can stare however he wants – but he could also touch her, it would be amazing too.

“Well, you know, we talked this morning and he said he wanted to take me out. - Garcia explains, placing with the edge of her mug – But you guys should go out anyway! I know some of you need to get laid. Especially you, Y/N.”

She opens her mouth, not expecting her colleague to say that. “I...”

Prentiss covers her mouth with a hand. “Isn't it right?”

Y/N doesn't mind talking about sex, it's nice to talk about it and find out more about her colleague's thoughts on it – all of her colleagues saw her reading sex books at the end of a case, on the jet while coming back home. But still, Y/N wasn't expecting Garcia to call her out like that and she can feel Spencer's eyes on her the whole time.

It's difficult to breathe when he's looking at her that way.

“Hm, I haven't gotten laid in a very long time. - Y/N manages to crook out, blushing – Maybe this new bar will bring me some fun.”

JJ raises an eyebrow, noticing Spencer's eyes shifting on hers before going back to Y/N. “How long since your last time, Y/N? We actually have never heard you talking about a possible date or something.”

Rossi turns his head towards Spencer, smirking when he sees the young doctor shiting on his chair. “Spencer, is everything okay? Are you excited to try this new bar out and see what chick come to your way?”

Morgan laughs at his friend's remark. “Yeah, pretty boy, do you need to get laid?”

Y/N turns her body around to look at Spencer, hoping the conversation would stay on him and his business for the rest of the night but the doctor is looking at her, a tight smile on his lips. Y/N knows she has to break the silence or someone could ask more personal questions – sex is not a taboo, of course, but some things should stay secret and buried in her mind.

“I mean, who doesn't need to get laid here?”

Prentiss, JJ, Rossi, Morgan and Garcia raise their hands. Y/N stares at them, then covers her face with hand as she shakes her head. She can feel her cheeks getting redder.

“Oh come on, Y/N! - Morgan exclaims, capturing her attention – How long?”

They all look quite surprised that Y/N hasn't had sex in a while, probably because she's a very attractive young woman and they assumed she had sex at least once a week. Y/N let out a soft sigh – and fuck it, they wouldn't judge her on the most natural thing in the world. Right?

“At least three years. The last time I had sex, I was still with Leonard. - Y/N says, shrugging as she takes a sip of her coffee – My first year in the BAU, yeah.”

Garcia places a hand over her heart. “Oh honey, you need to get laid!”

Y/N blushes, giggling at the same time. “I know, I just don't find the time to do that.”

Spencer lowers his eyes, scratching the back of his neck. “And I don't find the right people to do that.”

Rossi immediately looks at the young doctor. “What did you say, boy wonder?”

“Boy wonder, pretty boy”, Y/N loves Spencer's nicknames.

They fit him so perfectly because he really is a wonder, and he really is pretty. One of the most attractive Y/N has ever laid her eyes on in her whole life, way better than her ex boyfriend Leonard. She whishes Spencer would look at her the way she does.

“I said that I don't find the right people to do that, you know? - Spencer says, this time in a higher voice – I just don't like going to a bar and stare at women like they're objects. I'd rather spend the whole night talking to someone and then see what happens.”

Y/N quickly nods, leaning back against her chair. “Yeah, same. I'm not like you, Morgan.”

“Hey! That was rude. - Morgan exclaims, rolling his eyes – But I get it, you both need psychological arousal before actually having sex with someone. That's fair.”

JJ and Prentiss look at each other, then they turn around to stare at the two “lovebirds” sitting really close to one another. They would be the perfect couple: both very smart, both very attractive, both clumsy and romantic, both book-geeks, both curious, both open-minded and both amazing listeners, conversationists and interesting people. The only thing that was missing was... well, something that actually forced them to tell each other how they felt.

“Why don't you both give it a try?” Rossi asks

Morgan almost chokes on his beer, turning his head around. JJ and Prentis start laughing, covering their mouths while Garcia tries her hardest not to laugh again. Spencer looks almost offended while Y/N wants the floor to open up and swallow her without even hesitating.

“That would ruin our professional relationship, Morgan. - Spencer says, his voice calculated and stern – She is a very attractive woman, but she's my colleague. I wouldn't do that.”

Y/N lowers her eyes, a sharp pain spreading in her chest. She knew he wouldn't be so open about the idea of having sex with her, but still, she felt a big rejected. He wouldn't have sex with her because they work together, but if they weren't colleagues, he would?

That question running through her head makes her open her mouth.

“So.. would you fuck me if we weren't colleagues?”

This time is Rossi who almost chokes on his beer, as Prentiss and Garcia widen their eyes. They were not expecting her to be so straight-forward, but Y/N doesn't want to let this go. If he found her attractive, why wouldn't he give it a go? Y/N was literally waiting for him to do something to her, but she wasn't going to be the one to make the first move. Ever.

JJ smirks on the other side of the table, crossing her legs. “That's actually a good point.”

Spencer shifts again on his chair. “Well, I...”

“Pretty boy, you can speak. I'm sure she won't bite. - Garcia exclaims, snapping her fingers – Unless you want her to. Right, Y/N?”

Y/N winks at her, feeling more at ease now.

Does coffee and milk have some kind of effect on people's behaviour the same way alcohol has?

Because she feels like she's drunk. Or maybe it's just the fact that her hormones are all over the place when she's around Spencer.

“Come on, Reid. If only I liked women, I'd go for it. - Prentiss says, kicking him under the table and making the others laugh at her words – If Hotch wasn't married, I would fuck him!”

JJ places her coffee mug on the table. “If I wasn't married, I'd go with Morgan.”

“I'd go with Y/N, if only she was interested in me. - Morgan says, winking at Y/N – Unfortunately she has eyes for someone else.”

Y/N blushes hard. She confessed to Morgan her feelings for Spencer on the last night of their case at the beginning of the month. She was drunk, her head pressed against the wooden surface of a pub in Texas, when she basically poured her heart out to Morgan – he was less drunk than her, but still. They've spent the whole night talking about how she should find the strenght to grab Spencer, push him somewhere and just tell him the truth because it was almost overwhelming.

Y/N started working for the BAU three years ago and she had been interested in Spencer ever since – she didn't use the words “in love with” because, well, she didn't want to. She wasn't ready to admit to herself that she has always been in love with him, mostly because he wasn't really interested in her body but only in her mind. Or that's what she thought.

She didn't know that Spencer has thought many times about her, with his hands down his pants and his eyes closed, head thrown back on the pillow as images of her possible naked body straddling him would fill his brain before falling asleep.

“Why is this about me, now? - Spencer mutters, crossing his arms to his chest – Shouldn't we focus on the fact that she hasn't gotten laid in so long?”

Y/N giggles, shaking her head. “Thank you for your concern about my sexual life, Spence.”

“Why don't you help her ending her misery? - Rossi asks without even thinking about it – Come on. I'll even give you my bedroom.”

Prentiss stands up from the chair, laughing. “God, you're scaring him, Rossi.”

JJ taps her fingers against the table. “I'm pretty sure Y/N is not as vanilla as he is, anyway.”

“Uh, did you forget that I'm here and I can hear what you say?” Y/N blushes hard

Garcia whistles, leaning forward. “Oh please, tell me more. Vanilla? What's that?”

Before Y/N could open her mouth to reply, Spencer speaks first.

“Vanilla basically means someone who enjoys sex without twists or kinks. It's plain regular sweet, happy and very lovey-dovey sex. - Y/N turns to look at him, raising an eyebrow – What? I'm not as vanilla as you think I am, Y/N. Just because I don't talk about my sex life, doesn't mean I hate sex. I experience sexual attraction, I like having sex with others.”

She lifts both her hands, rolling her eyes. “Calm down, sweetcheeks. I didn't say anything.”

“What's a kink?” Garcia asks again

Prentiss and JJ step inside of the kitchen, probably to grab a beer or something. Rossi and Morgan are enjoying the conversation, darting their eyes from Spencer to Y/N to see how they react. The conversation isn't over yet and they hope that, by making those kind of references, they'd get the two lovebirds together.

“A kink is a sexual behaviour, a sexual preference someone has. It's something that increases sexual enjoyment like... spanking, choking, hair pulling. - Y/N says, eyes focused on Spencer by his side – It's different from a fetish because a fetish replaces the partner with an object.”

Morgan leans forward. “I guess I have a kink for lingerie, then.”

Rossi laughs, placing his empty bottle down on the table. “I would've never said that.”

“I guess I'm vanilla, then. - JJ mutters, sitting back on the chair in front of Y/N – Me and Will don't have much “mommy and daddy time”, so we haven't explored much. Not yet, at least.”

“What about you, Y/N?” Prentiss asks

The younger woman shifts on the chair, taking the last sip of her milk and coffee.

“Oh, I have a very long list of kinks that I want to try and that I've already tried and loved.”

“Explain.” Spencer says

She looks at him for a second, then blushes. “Well, uhm... Can you promise me nothing of this conversation is going to leave this house?”

“Of course! We would never spread intimate informations to others. - Garcia exclaims, clapping her hands with a mischievous smirk on her lips – Come on, spill. It's been three years and you've never told us any of your spicy secrets.”

Spencer moves his chair so he could face Y/N, getting a bit closer to her.

“Oh, this is going to be so good. - Derek says, pressing his hands together – Tell us.”

JJ leans in, smirking. “I know some of them already.”

Spencer looks at JJ for a few seconds, then raises an eyebrow and turns to look at the other girl by his side, the same girl who's about to open up about her kinks – what if some of them are the same as his? Would it be easier for him to make the first move in the car, later?

“Choking.”

Spencer almost chokes on his coffee. She's into choking, huh? Well, that's definitely an interesting kink to have – and he appears to have it as well. He has imagined many times to have his hand wrapped around her pretty throat, forcing her to look at him in the eyes while he's touching her.

“Choking? Oh, damn. - Rossi says, not surprised – Have you tried it?”

Y/N nods, biting her bottom lip. “Yes. I have. Many times, actually. That was the only thing Leonard was able to do.”

“What do you mean?” Prentiss asks, furrowing her perfectly shaped eyebrows

Y/N shrugs, blushing hard. “Well, I would've liked to have an orgasm once or twice in my life.”

Garcia, JJ, Prentis, Morgan and Rossi all gasp at her confession. Spencer is actually speechless: he remembers when she told him about Leonard breaking up with her after four years. He has always thought that they were having a wonderful sex life, but now... it appears that her ex boyfriend wasn't really that good in bed.

So? She has never had an orgasm? That's fucking frustrating.

“Oh my God! Are you serious?” Morgan widens his eyes

Y/N shrugs, biting her bottom lip. “I've had self-orgasms, but never... you know.”

Garcia immediately stands up, wrapping an arm around Y/N's shoulders. “Poor child, you definitely need someone who can make you come or you'll go crazy. I am so sorry.”

The younger woman chuckles, slowly pulling away from the hug. “Eh, it's fine. I'll find someone, won't I?”

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Y/N lets out a huge sigh and stands up from the chair. She definitely needs something to drink right in that moment, maybe something alcoholic so she can stop thinking about the fact that she admitted that she never had an orgasm before.

Sure, Leonard was nice in bed but he has never been able to actually take her to the finish line. She tried to talk about it to him, but he always got so offended to the point he would storm out of their old apartment.

“Vanilla boy, what do you say? What's your kink?” Rossi asks

Y/N steps inside Rossi's kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge. All this “sex talking” is getting to her head but she doesn't mind, it's actually very refreshing to talk about sex with someone different than JJ when they're sharing a room during one of their cases.

“I bet you have a foot fetish.” Morgan sneers

Prentiss chuckles, pulling out her phone from her purse. “I wish I could stay here a little longer but my dear boyfriend wants me home in an hour. I want to know more about your kinks, Spencer!”

The young doctor rolls his eyes, fidgeting the edge of his shirt. “I don't have a foot fetish, Morgan. Maybe you do, but I don't. I don't think I have any fetish, I have a lot of kinks though. And I'm probably less vanilla than you, chocolate fudge.”

Y/N giggles when she comes back to the living room, placing her beer bottle on the table as she walks towards Prentiss. She hugs her tightly and opens the entrance door for her, waving until she's safe and in her car. Not that Prentiss needs a bodyguard, but still.

“Tell me one of them, then. - Morgan says, raising his eyebrows – We're all curious.”

Y/N grabs her beer bottle and sits next to JJ, leaving the empty chair next to Spencer so he's all alone in front of her, JJ, Morgan and Rossi. Spencer is blushing hard, probably because he's not really used to talk about sex in front of others, and Y/N finds it so fucking cute and pretty. She wants to stand up, sit on his lap and shower him with kisses all over his face.

Or maybe she'd get on his knees for him, she'd love it.

“I like gagging.”

Y/N's eyes snap on his face, noticing he's looking at her.

So he likes to gag people? With what, tissues or maybe a part of body?

“Oh, that's nice. - Y/N says, agreeing with him – Same, honestly.”

JJ and Rossi look at each other, both smirking.

“See? She'd be perfect for you, Spencer! - JJ exclaims, touching Y/N's knee – Maybe you'd help her having the first orgasm with her life.”

Y/N shakes her head, embarrassed beyond limits. “Please, stop trying to make him hook up with me. If we want to fuck in my car later, we will. We don't need your help, do we, Spencer?”

Spencer immediately agrees, taking the last sip of coffee. “Exactly. Thank you, Y/N.”

And so the sex talk finally ends, shifting to another topic for the next hour and a half.

***

It's almost two in the morning and Y/N feels extremely tired. She can't wait to go back home, strip from all of her clothes and jump into her bed to take a very long, long sleep. She needs it or she'll pass out during lunch with her mother the day after – she probably shouldn't have accepted to go out to Rossi's apartment with the team, but still. She needed to see Spencer before Monday.

The conversation with the team is slowly coming to an end, forcing all of them to stand up and get ready to leave Rossi's apartment. After a second beer, Spencer decided to change his chair and sit back on the couch; he even asked Y/N to join him, which she did, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders while she laid her head on his chest.

She actually enjoyed being so close to him, smelling his soft scent and having her hair caressed by his skilled fingers. She wonders if he noticed the way she got really comfortable by his side, letting herself wrap an arm around his waist to pull him closer to her. Maybe he didn't notice, but JJ and Rossi did – and they probably texted Prentiss and Garcia, who left a bit later, to tell them the good news.

Y/N doesn't really care about what they think.

It's obvious that she has a thing for Spencer, so what? It's not like it would ruin everything in the team – unless Spencer rejcts her in a bad way and leaves the BAU, but Y/N knows he would never do that.

Even if he's not interested in her, Spencer would never hurt her or tell her something that'd upset her. He's a sweetheart, he's romantic and he cares for her. He was her first friend in the BAU, they got close to each other basically two days after their first meeting so.. Y/N trusts him. She would take a bullet for him.

“I'll see you all this Monday, then.” Rossi says, standing on the door step

Y/N quickly nods, closing her jacket on her chest. “Yes. Thank God it's not paperwork day.”

“I'm allergic to paperwork. - Rossi mutters, shaking his head – Goodnight, guys. Drive safely.”

JJ, Morgan, Y/N and Spencer walks away from Rossi's apartment to reach the small parking lot right behind his house. Spencer doesn't leave Y/N's side, almost as if he's terrified he might remain right there, alone, and has to walk home in the middle of the night.

He doesn't even have his gun with him.

JJ opens her car with her automatic key. “As always, it was a pleasure.”

Morgan gives her a quick hug. “See you on Monday, JJ.”

Y/N winks at her, blowing her a kiss. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“Always. Don't worry. - JJ says, putting her bag in the backseats – Goodnight Spencer.”

He lifts his hand, waving at her. “'Night.”

JJ gets in her own car as Morgan and Y/N walks towards their with Spencer.

Y/N grabs her keys from her bag and clicks them, opening the car. “Morgan.”

“Babygirl. - he whispers, hugging her quickly – Goodnight, sleep well. And don't tease our pretty boy too much while you're driving, wouldn't want his not-so-vanilla side come out at the wrong time.”

Spencer rolls his eyes at his friend tease, shaking his head. “You are so incredibly annoying, Morgan. I don't know how Savannah can stand you, literally.”

“What can I say? - Morgan smirks, winking at both of them – I'm good in bed, I guess.”

Y/N laughs along with him, jumping in her car with Spencer by her side. She has always loved the way Morgan is so open and so fun, she likes his behaviour and she loves the relationship he has with Garcia. She wonders if she'll ever find someone to have a similar relationship with. Y/N loves teasing.

Spencer closes the car door, putting his seatbelt on. Y/N starts the engine, not driving out of the parking lot, and grabs her phone before giving it to Spencer.

“I don't remember your address, I need my GPS.”

“Oh, you don't trust my directions?” Spencer asks, pretending to be offended

Y/N gives him a weird look, chuckling right after. “The last time you gave me your address, we ended up in the middle of nowhere with JJ and Morgan behind us.”

“That wasn't my fault! I was drunk! - Spencer tells her, rolling his eyes – Morgan challenged me with the twenty vodka shots at The Angel. It wasn't my fault.”

She giggles, placing her phone next to the steering wheel. “Sure, keep telling yourself that, sweetcheeks.”

A comfortable silence washes over the car as Y/N slowly pulls out of the parking lot to follow her GPS' directions towards Spencer's house. She's glad he's not talking, but at the same time she wishes he would open her mouth and tell her something. Whatever he wants, she doesn't mind. Y/N really likes his voice, it's soothing and relaxed, and hot.

She wonders how his voice would sound if he whispered something against her ear, maybe from behind with his arms wrapped around her waist and his hip...

“So you've never had an orgasm before.”

Y/N stops at a traffic light, turning for a second to look at him. “Is it so horrible to imagine?”

“Orgasmic dysfunction is a condition that occours when someone has difficulty reaching orgasms, usually when they're sexually aroused. The contributing factors might include older age, but you're not old; the use of certain medications, particularly antidepressants, shyness, cultural or religious beliefs... - Spencer starts to ramble as Y/N beings to drive again – Or maybe unresolved conflicts, lack of trust, stress, poor self-esteem, anxiety, depression. The inability to orgasm can lead to distress, which may make it even harder to achieve orgasm in the future.”

Y/N taps her fingers against the wheel. “What are your conclusions, doctor?”

“He wasn't as good as he thought he was in bed, maybe. - Spencer adds, shrugging without looking at her – You said that you were able to, uhm, come by yourself. I think it's called situational anorg..”

She lets out a huge sigh, keeping her eyes on the road in front of her.

“He was the problem, Spencer. He wasn't able to use his tongue, his fingers, let alone his dick. He cared about himself and his own pleasure instead of mutually sharing the experience.”

He bites his bottom lip, tapping his foot. “Well, I am sorry. It must be really frustrating.”

“Not really. I mean, one day I'll find someone who can make me come. - Y/N replies, not really wanting to keep diving into her “secret” - For now, I'm quite satisfied with myself.”

Spencer remains silent for a few minutes, turning his head towards the window of her car.

He is completely alone with her in her car, far away from the others and all those weird teasing phrases that kept bothering him every single day. Morgan and Hotchner tried to make him hook up with her many times by booking a bedroom for two under their names, but Y/N has always managed to find a way to change that booking and sleeping with JJ instead. Spencer didn't mind because if he got to sleep with Y/N in the middle of a working-weel, he would've forced her to spend the whole day in bed with him instead of going out to work on a case.

He has the chance of touching her or try to talk to her about something he can help her with, but what if she rejects him and pulls him away? Or what if she gets repulsed by him and the idea of being with him?

“Well, if you ever need help, I'm here.”

Y/N blinks, not really sure she heard him right. “What?”

“To talk. - Spencer coughs, covering his mouth with a hand – I meant, to talk. I'm here for you if you need to talk to someone, you know. I'm always here for you.”

This would be the perfect time for her to shoot her shot. They're stopping at another traffic light and there's silence, which means Y/N could actually say something to change the course of their night.

“You could also physically help me, if you're in the mood. - Y/N whispers, tightening the grip on the steering wheel – See if there's something wrong with me or if my ex boyfriend was just a useless piece of meat when we tried to have sex.”

Spencer gulps, biting his bottom lip again. She asked him to have sex, basically.

But what should he do? Accept and have the best night of his life with the woman he's been thirsting over for the past three years or reject her in order to keep his sanity while he's at work?

If they end up having sex that night, Spencer knows he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about her when he sees her at work – and that would definitely be a disaster, because they all need to be focused on the job. But still. It's just sex. It's a normal thing, everybody has it, everybody has done it or will do it in their life, so why would it have to ruin everything?

“Are you asking me to make you come?”

A little smile appears on her lips. “Yes. Do you think you can do it?”

Spencer shifts on the seat. “I don't understand if you're serious or are you just joking.”

The GPS tells Y/N that they're almost at Spencer's apartment. She bites her bottom lip, not really sure how to reply to that. She hoped her voice, more stern, would help him understand that she's on the verge of begging him to touch her but apparently he needs a little more encouragement.

“Why would I joke about this? - she asks, turning the wheel to the right until she stops in front of the white building on her left – If you don't believe me, you can just say no and we'll stop talking about this.”

Spencer looks at his left, then turns around to stare at the woman by his side. She doesn't take off her seatbelt, probably waiting for a sign from him. He's hesitating because he really doesn't know what to do. He has the perfect opportunity to have sex with her, to touch the way he dreamed of, to be touched by those hands he had fantasies about.

But what if it's just a plan that the others had elaborated to make fun of him?

No, they would never do that. They love him, they care for him. Morgan loves to tease him and make fun of him but not in a bad way, in a friendly and jokingly way.

“I don't want to say no, Y/N. That's the problem.”

She takes off her seatbelt. “And I don't want to force you to do anything.”

“I thought you were too tired and wanted to go home. - Spencer whispers, biting his bottom lip – But if you're too tired to drive, you can stop by my house for the night.”

Y/N tilts her head. “I might accept your offer, if you don't mind.”

He quickly shakes his head, stepping out of the car. His heart is beating so fast in his chest to the point he's scared it might jump out from his throat because this is happening all too fast. Spencer closes the door behind his back and walks towards his apartment, followed by Y/N who closes her car with her keys and puts them back in her bag. He hopes she can't see the way his fingers are shaking.

Spencer pulls out his card from his pocket and slides it against the locker device on the door. A little “click” can be heard, later on the door opens and Spencer walks inside his living room, soon followed by Y/N.

It's not the first time she goes to his house.

She remembers the first weekend at the BAU, Morgan and Prentiss decided to have a little gathering somewhere. And Spencer offered his house, inviting all of them there. And they had so much fun, playing board games and drinking white wine.

“Are you cold, Y/N? I can start the fire, if you want.”

She takes off her jacket. “No, it's fine. Your house is already warm, I don't want to get too hot.”

Spencer simply nods, grabbing her jacket and hanging it behind the locked door. There's only one thing in his mind so when he turns around, he realizes it by grabbing Y/N by the waist and pulling her closer to his chest as she widens her eyes. She looks up at him, her eyes staring back at his.

“I would love to help you. Physically.”

A smirk appears on her lips. “I was hoping you would, actually.”

Y/N's hand slides up on his chest, caressing the exposed skin of his collarbones. Her finger tips are so delicate, touching his skin while she leans forward with her head. Spencer lowers his eyes to look at her, enoying the soft touch of her hand, and brushes the tip of his nose against her before letting their lips meet in a very chaste kiss. There's no lust, no passion in it.

It's sweet. Maybe a little too much for her taste, but Y/N doesn't want to rush things. Even though the only thing she needs right in that moment, is for him to push her down on her knees and gag her with his cock while forcing her to take all of him in her mouth.

Y/N moans softly on his lips, licking his bottom lip before sliding her tongue inside of his mouth. She can feel the little hint of coffee mixed with beer, it's hot. And it's delicious. She might get already addicted to his taste, but she bet he'd taste even sweeter somewhere else.

Spencer moves his hand from her waist to her back, pressing her body against his. A soft moan escapes from her lips, forcing him to pull away for a few seconds. He looks at her, noticing her full of lust her eyes are, as a little smile appear on his mouth. She looks fucking sinful in that moment.

“Are you sure you want this?” Spencer asks

Y/N takes his face in her hands, gently brushing her thumbs over his cheekbones. “Yes. I want you.”

That was all he needed to know. His lips press against hers one more time, the light stubble along his cheeks scratches the soft skin around her lips but she doesn't care. No, the only thing she can focus on is the way he's pushing her towards his body, moving his hips against hers.

Spencer slides his hand down to her thighs, picking the girl up in the middle of the living room. Y/N doesn't realize that they moved to another room until Spencer lays her down on his bed, hovering over her as their lips keep meeting in passionate kisses.

His tongue moves across Y/N's, his hands forcing her to open her legs as he presses his hip against her again and again. She can feel his erection through his dark trousers pressing on her thigh, leaving her breathless.

“Fuck, Spencer.”

Y/N runs a hand through his hair, pulling it lightly. Spencer interrupts the kiss and pulls away from her mouth, making its way down her neck. A loud moan echoes through the room as she arches her back while Spencer kisses the tender skin on her throat, while his right hand slowly wraps around it.

“You are so fucking hot like this, Y/N.”

She grins, opening her eyes. “I would look way hotter without my clothes.”

Spencer smiles softly, lifting his body up. “Oh yeah? Show me, then. Undress yourself.”

He moves on his bed, laying down on the mattress with both hands behind his neck. Y/N blinks, then gives him a huge smile as she steps down the bed. She quickly takes off her shoes and her socks, pulling down her trousers.

“Thank God I put on my favourite pair of panties!” - she thinks, removing her dark blue blouse.

“I love your body, you know that?”

Y/N shakes her head, leaving her clothes on the floor before jumping again on the bed and slowly straddling Spencer's body. His hands end up on her bottom, squeezing it slightly while his mouth covers her once against. Y/N starts grinding against him, moaning softly on his lips, as she lifts his shirt.

Spencer lets her undress him as quickly as they can, finally feeling her hot skin pressed on his.

“Were you expecting to get laid tonight?” Spencer asks

Y/N shakes her head again. “No, actually. But I'm glad I put on this lingerie.”

“Dark blue is my favourite color. - he whispers, brushing the tip of his index around her right nipple – You should wear it more often, both on your clothes and your underwear.”

Y/N will definitely do that in the future. “Gladly.”

Spencer unclasps her bra, throwing it on the floor along with their clothes, and before she can move to take off his trousers, his mouth attacks her nipple. A loud moan echoes through the room as Y/N bites her bottom lip, moving her hips against his thigh while Spencer starts playing with her other nipple. He twists it softly, making her whimper with her eyes now closed.

His hands are still on her bottom, grabbing it tightly to the point she knows he left his handprints on her skin – but she doesn't care, she wants everything he can give her. Spencer starts sucking on her right nipple, flicking his tongue against and around it until she starts moaning faster and louder. She has always loved nipple play but unfortunately her boyfriend wasn't on the same page as her.

“Spence, stop. - she manages to whisper – I need to...”

“Go ahead, princess. - he says, helping her to lift her body up – Do whatever you want.”

She obeys quickly, pulling his trousers and his boxers down. Now he's completely naked under her body and Y/N is shocked because she didn't know he was actually fucking packing.

Like, very long and thick. She doesn't even know if she'll be able to take it all inside of her without her crying in pain.

But she quickly recovers, straddling him again. The tip of his cock is slightly pressed to her core, forcing her to rock her hips forward as a soft moan escapes from his lips. It's soft, needy, just like hers. And Y/N swears she has never heard of a more beautiful sound before in her life.

She can feel herself getting wetter and wetter by the seconds, so she quickly pulls down her panties until she's finally completely naked on his body. There's nothing separating the two of them. She can easily slides her hand down his torso, grab his cock and push it inside of her without hesitating but... Not yet. She wants to enjoy his fingers, his mouth, his gorgeous body before actually having the pleasure of being fucked by him.

Spencer lifts his right hand, pushing two fingers in her mouth. Y/N allows him to do that, feeling his fingertips pressing down on her tongue.

“I want you to suck my fingers while you ride my thighs.”

And who's Y/N to reject him of such a delicious order?

She slowly nods, blinking when Spencer begins to bounce his knee slightly, eliciting a whine from Y/N as he closes her eyes. Her tongue touches the tip of two fingers, wetting them as she moves her hips to match his movements. The knot behind her belly button is growing fast, heat spreads through her body and on her cheeks as she uses her left hand to steady herself on his body.

She has never been so aroused before.

Spencer presses his fingers on her tongue, forcing her to open her mouth. She looks straight into his eyes, grinding faster against his thighs. The pressure on her clit is getting heavier, more pleasure, more intense and her thighs are starting to shake.

Is this what an orgasm caused by someone feels like?

“Good girl. You're being so good, princess.”

His voice is deep, filled with desire and lust. A low moan comes out of his mouth as Y/N throws her head back when his fingers leave her lips, sliding down on her body. Spencer starts to play with both her nipples, bouncing his leg to allow her to have more friction. Her wetness is sliding down his thigh as Spencer bites his bottom lip, twisting her nipples between his fingers.

“I think I'm gonna come.”

Y/N's moans grow louder and louder, leaving her lips in a lithany of low sounds. Spencer has never seen a more beautiful creature in his life before, as she moves quickly against his leg.

“Come for me, Y/N. I want you to come.”

His right hand leaves her nipple, his fingers dig deep into her hip as he follows her pace, bouncing his knee to meet her movements. Y/N whines, wanting to finally have a decent orgasm. And as soon as Spencer grabs a fistful of her hair with his left hand, the pure ecstasy of the moment takes over her body as she reaches her climax.

“Spencer, fuck!”

He keeps a slow rhytm for her, helping her ride her first ever not-self orgasm. Her face is red from the heat, a single sweat drop falls from her forehead down her chest and Spencer leans forward to press a long kiss at the base of her throat.

Y/N is shaking as she collapses against his body, her chest raising up and down. She tries to catch her breath, grasping the sheets by his left side as Spencer slowly rolls over her body. Y/N closes her legs, panting hard with her eyes closed.

It felt so good, so liberating to finally have an orgasm not caused by a vibrator or her own fingers,

“Good girl. - Spencer says in her ear, pressing a soft kiss on her lips – You've been such a good girl.”

Y/N throws her head back on the pillow, sighing. “That was...”

“Just the beginning.”

She opens her eyes again, finding him smirking at her. Uh-oh. “What are you planning to do?”

Spencer doesn't reply to her.

Instead, he opens her legs and lays down between them as he leaves a trace of delicate kisses from her chest to her belly button. He nips at her skin, making his way downtown until he leaves another kiss on her clit.

Y/N grabs his right hand, placing it on her breast. “I'm oversensitive now.”

Still, Spencer doesn't say anything. Instead, he laps at her clit in response and Y/N swears she has just been thrown in the space, into the Iperuranium or some-fucking-where in the world. He slips two fingers inside of her and starts massaging her clit with his thumb, sucking on it gently while he listens to her soft moans echoing in his bedroom.

He has dreamed about tasting her, feeling her wetness on his tongue, hearing her voice when she's about to come, making her come. And he's doing all of that in one night.

“God, fuck. Don't stop.”

He hums, pumping his fingers into her as he looks up. “I'm not planning to stop.”

She gives him a smile before throwing her head back. She tries to buck her hips, moving it to encourage him to go faster, but Spencer pins her waist down with his free arm. And he goes back to suck gently on her clit, feeling her thighs shaking around him and her juices coaxing his chin, his lips.

But she tastes so fucking good.

“Spencer.. I'm gonna..”

She yelps in pure ecstasy when the second orgasm hits her body like a thunder. Y/N grips the bed sheets with a hand, using the other to pull harder and harder on Spencer's hair. Her eyes rolls back into her head, her legs close around Spencer's head as waves of pleasure wash her whole body.

Her eyebrows are furrowed, her cheeks are read with pleasure and she's shaking. Spencer feels himself growing harder and harder as the seconds go by. He desperately wants to be where his fingers are, feeling her hot wetness gripping him and letting himself fall inside of her while kissing her, choking her, whispering in her ear that she's so good for him.

Spencer drags his tongue between her folds, licking her juices with a low hum before pulling away and brushing his mouth with the back of his hand. The bottom of his face is completely drenched in her wetness but it's fucking hot. He didn't know she could get so wet.

He really loves giving oral sex.

If he knew she'd be so good, so delicious for him, he would've made the first move way earlier. Or maybe not, because he's a fucking idiot who couldn't see how attracted she was and still is to him. If she wasn't, she wouldn't be in his bed after two orgasms.

Right?

Spencer pulls himself up, hovering over her face. Y/N opens her eyes and runs a hand through his hair, leaning forward as he lowers his mouth to finally covers her again.

This time the kiss is nothing but full of lust, desire, passion. A love so strong, so powerful and so animalistic to the point where they both don't want to pull away. They have been waiting for this for long and it only took less than 15 minutes to get them where they needed to be.

Spencer on top of her, completely naked, with Y/N underneath him, completely naked.

Y/N wraps her arms around his neck, closing her legs behind his hip. He lays down on her hot body, moaning softly when her nipples press against his chest. His cock is pressing on her wetness and he's tempted to slide it inside of her, but he wants her to be the one to do it. He's worried she might have changed her mind after two orgasms.

“Spencer?”

He raises an eyebrow, interrupting their kiss. “Yes, princess?”

“Thank you.”

The young doctor brushes the tip of his nose against her cheek. “My pleasure.”

Y/N grabs his left hand and places it on her own throat. “But now you have to do something.”

He hums, pretending he doesn't know what she's talking about. “What?”

She bucks up her hip, biting his bottom lip when his cock slides between her folds. She's desperate to feel him inside of her, and yet he's not doing anything even though she can feel how hard and painful his erection must be. So? How is he able to keep all that control? Isn't he some kind of robot?

“Spencer, please. - she begs him softly, using her free hand to touch him between his legs but he slaps her hand away, making her whine – Please, I need you inside of me.”

He leans in, pressing a soft kiss in the crook of her neck. “You are so needy. And greedy. A little too greedy, don't you think?”

She huffs, placing her free hand on his back. “No, I'm not “too greedy”. I feel bad because you haven't come yet, while I had two orgasms already. Let me make it up to you, please?”

Spencer slips his hand down her chest, caressing her breasts. “Get on your hands and knees, princess.”

He presses his forehead against hers as his breath against her skin does nothing to calm her down. She needs him more than she could ever admit it to herself, and yet he's taking his own sweet time to adore her, to watch her carefully and to make her crazy.

It's annoying.

But so fucking hot.

Y/N follows his orders, rolling her body as she lifts her bottom.

She feels Spencer slowly crawling between her legs, opening them to press his hip against her ass while he uses a hand to grab a fistful of her hair and pulls it hard. Y/N lets out a shriek, not expecting that gesture, but she doesn't mind. She loves having her hair pulled back, especially if Spencer is doing it.

“You look so hot like this, princess. - he whispers in her ear, leaning against her body with his chest pressed on her back – I wish I could have you like this all time.”

Y/N bites her own bottom lip, pushing her ass back. “If you promise you are going to touch me like you're doing right now, you'll have me anywhere you want. I swear to whatever is up in the sky.”

The young doctor grins, his mouth travelling down her spine while leaving kisses before going back to her neck and nipping at the skin. His teeth sinks in her soft skin, making the girl moan softly as Spencer's finally slips the tip of his cock between her wet lips.

Y/N almost collpases on the bed but Spencer is faster and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her to his body in order to keep her still. She lower her eyes for a second, noticing the veins in his arms; she quivers, closing her eyes as Spencer moves his hip forward and finally bottoms out. She inhale some air for a few second, trying to adjust quickly to the delicate stretch of her body for him, and lets out a low moan. Spencer keeps leaving soft kisses on her back, enjoying the hot wet grip around his cock without moving; he wants her to be as comfortable as she can, he would never ruin this experience for her.

“My fucking God.”

“Not God, but thank you anyway, I guess. - she smiles as he grins, relieved that she heard him; slowly, he raises his hand to meet her throat – You feel so good, princess.”

Y/N clenches around him, throwing her head back against his shoulder. Her throat is totally exposed and Spencer feels the need to grab it, softly pressing his fingers on her delicate skin that rapidly changes colour. Y/N opens her mouth, the loss of oxygen making her feel more dizzy but ecstatic.

“Yes, yes, please. Like this, yes.”

Y/N is already a mess and he hasn't even started pushing inside of her. He wasn't expecting her to enjoy choking this much, but he's glad she does. He practised it a lot in order to learn how to actually do it without hurting the other person.

“Can I move, princess?”

Y/N quickly nods, not able to form a complete sentence She's overwhelmed with pleasure: one hand on her throat, the other one through her hair, his mouth on her neck, his cock inside of her and her core already over-stimulated because of the previous two orgasms.

Can she handle a third one after 21 years of self-orgasms or it'll destroy her? Y/N wants to find out.

“You are so fucking tight, princess. - Spencer groans, beginning to thrust into her – And you're so fucking gorgeous, taking my cock like this. Perfect, so perfect for me.”

He's moving inside of her with a slow pace, but Y/N is still writhing under his touch. Her back arches into him, begging for more. And he obeys, tightening his hand around her throat while he pulls her hair and forces him to look at her through her eyelashes.

Then, he starts pouding into her.

And Y/N swears she just reached Heaven and saw God in the shape of Spencer.

It's actually crazy to feel this much pleasure in just one moment, but Y/N wouldn't trade that second for all the money in the whole world. If Spencer Reid could fuck her every single day, every single hour, she would sacrifice herself for it. She'd sell with her own soul for this.

“I've been waiting for so long for this, Spencer. - Y/N says, placing her right hand over his forearm while steadying himself against his body – God, you are so fucking good. Fuck me, fuck me.”

Spencer lets her hair go, forcing the girl to face down the mattress.

So she has waited for this moment for a long time, why don't make the most out of it then?

He slaps her ass with a hand, watching it bouncing against his hips. It's the most erotic view of his life.

“Next time you're going to let me use your body, you'll be on your knees.” he whispers

Y/N quickly nods, scratching his arm. “Can't fucking wait, sir.”

His pace becomes faster and harder. Every stroke is deep, making the girl whimper at each move as she hides her face into the pillow in front of her. Tears of pleasure are streaming down her face, Spencer hands are scratching, grabbing tightly and smacking her ass without mercy and she can't wait to see all the marks he has left her on her body.

She won't be able to sit down if he keeps hurting her like this.

That's exactly what she wants.

His hard grip on her body is contrasted by the softness of his voice. She wasn't expecting this dualism in Spencer, but she loves it and can't wait to experience more of this in her apartment, where they can try more fun things in bed.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

Her name rolls off his tongue like it's made for it.

“I'm almost there, Spencer. - she whispers, pressing her ass back to his hip – Please, fuck me more.”

He wraps his arms around her, moaning in her ear as he thrusts into her as fast as he can. This new rhythm helps him finding the perfect spot that makes Y/N scream louder and arch her back.

“Fuck! Right there, right there!”

Spencer doesn't slow down, wanting to make her come from the sex. He doesn't even need to touch her between her legs because before he can open his mouth, Y/N clenches tightly around him and finally comes, letting the orgasm wash all over her. Her arms give out and her whole body shakes with pleasure, her thighs almost closing and her muscles spasming around him.

“God, fucking Hell, Y/N.”

Y/N keeps whispering his name, trying to move her body against his to help him come. She wants to feel his orgasm, she wants his mouth pressed on her ear, she wants everything he can give her or she'll go crazy. She's already regretting not doing this earlier – she has to send something in order to thank Garcia, Morgan, JJ, Prentiss, Rossi and maybe Hotchner.

Spencer knows his orgasm is about to hit his body and it does right after. He growls against Y/N's right ear, filling her up with his warmth as his mouth nips at the skin of her neck. She scratches his forearm, releasing a little whimper as she feels his come dripping in and out of her as he keeps pushing his hips forward. That was probably the hottest sensation ever.

But.. Did he just come inside of her?

He did. And she'll allow him to do it again, for fuck's sake.

“Shit, Y/N. I am so sorry. - Doctor Reid whispers, pulling out of her body to admire the mess he made inside of her – I didn't even ask you if I could finish here.”

Y/N collapses on the bed, rolling her body over to face him. He looks really worried but she's not, because she's on the pill – so she can't get pregnant, thankfully.

She lifts a hand, caressing his arm as Spencer lays down by her side. She's still trying to catch her breath after what they just did, but he seems just fine – is he used to this? Is he really not that vanilla an inexperienced as Morgan kept saying? Y/N can't wait to find out.

“Don't worry, pretty boy. It's all fine, I would've made you finish inside of me anyway.” Y/N says

Spencer puts a hand over her cheek, forcing her to turn her face. She brushes the tip of her nose against his before kissing his lips once again. This time their kiss is slow, lazy, it's not filled with lust like the last one they've exchanged but they're both fine with that. Y/N doesn't want this night to end, she wants to keep kissing him until she consume his lips but she knows that she can't do that. And that this was probably just a one night stand.

She pulls away and lowers her head, lifting her body as he puts an arm around her waist. Y/N leans against his hard chest and closes her eyes, caressing his hot skin with the tip of her index fingers. She can't believe she just had sex with him, it's fucking crazy.

A comfortable silence washes over the room.

But Spencer breaks it.

“We should've done this earlier.”

Y/N opens her eyes, finding him staring at her. He looks so pretty: his hair are all messed up, his lips are of a dark red shade more swollen than before, his eyes are shining and there's a curious yet relaxed smile on that gorgeous mouth that was between her legs not much long ago.

“I agree. We really needed a little push from the others. - Y/N giggles, lifting her hand to caress his cheek with her eyes on his face – And I can't thank you enough for proving me that there's nothing wrong with my vagina and that my ex boyfriend was just a fucking dickhead.”

Spencer laughs loudly at her words, throwing his head back. “I can finally say it: Leonard was a fucking dickhead and I'm so glad I could make you come while that bastard didn't. I knew I was better than him in bed, at least.”

She laughs along with him, tapping her index on his cheek. “Yes, you are way better than him in bed. And in everything else, pretty much.”

He moves his eyes on her, leaving a kiss on her open lips.

Y/N lays back with her head on his chest and keeps brushing her fingers on his hot skin, travelling down towards his belly button but coming back up to touch his collarbones. She closes her eyes, relaxing her muscles and letting her body finally rest for a few hours before going back home. She doesn't know if Spencer wants her to spend the night there, but she knows she won't be able to actually dress up again and drive towards her house. She's too tired, too sore to even stand up.

Either way, Spencer is not saying anything so she'll stay there. And hopefully, he'll fall asleep before kicking her out or something. Also the blanket is quite comfortable, Spencer's body even more.

“The next time we do this, will you allow me to take you out to dinner first?”

Y/N widens her eyes. “Do you mean...”

Spencer pulls her closer to his body. “Yes, I'm asking you to go on a date with me.” She lifts her body up to look at him in the eyes.

He stares back at her with a soft smile on his bruised lips, his hand placed on her hip ever so gently. Y/N can't say no to him – well, she doesn't want to say no because she has been waiting a long time for this, but yeah.

The point is: Spencer is literally the most attractive man ever, he's smart, romantic, hot and he's fucking good at sex. He made her come!

He's the total package and she won't let anyone steal him from her.

“I thought you'd never ask, sweetcheeks. - Y/N answers with a smirk, giggling when he gives her the most beautiful smile – But next time it'll be my turn to pleasure you.”

Spencer crooks his fingers, asking silently to lean forward. “We'll do whatever you want. I'll be more than happy to spend the whole night kissing and hugging you, princess.”

Y/N closes their distance with another kiss before stepping down from the bed. She grabs her phone from her purse, unlocking her screen; she has to text her mother and ask her to come to her house a bit later.

Y/N doesn't like making other wait for nothing and since she's going to spend the night at Spencer's place, she doesn't know when she'll wake up and when she'll be back at home.

But before she can open her mother's chat on iMessage, Y/N notices a message from JJ.

“So? How did it go? Tell me everything!!”

Y/N replies with a simple winking emoji.

Who knew that night would end so well for both of them?

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

Okay, wow, this is what it looks like I guess? It’s my first ever one shot in english. My first language is italian so there are probably some mistakes in it. I would love to get some feedback, if you’ve enjoyed my little os.

Thank you so much for reading it.

Aurora x

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut imagine #spencer reid fluff imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut one shot #spencer reid fluff one shot #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x female y/n #spencer reid x y/n imagine #doctor spencer reid #doctor spencer reid smut #doctor spencer reid fluff #doctor spencer reid smut imagine #doctor spencer reid fluff imagine

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

Text

spectators

part 8 of the ‘hey batter batter’ series

paring: Francisco Morales (Frankie, Catfish) x reader

wordcount: 2.6k

warnings: strong language, kissing, enough fluff for a rich person chair

summary: it’s a Triple Frontier baseball AU! Trust me, you don’t need to know anything about baseball.

In this chapter, the Frankie and you appease the people who have been invested in their relationship this whole time.

Pope threw the ball straight up, and caught it.

Then he did it again – he was thinking.

Right hand, then left. Right, left. The ball was in the air less and less time, but the speed didn’t increase. Eventually he was just tossing it straight into his own palm, slowly, thoughtfully, his gaze fixed somewhere far away.

Frankie watched, not even nervous. Of all the reactions he could’ve predicted this was more or less what he expected.

“I’m proud of you,” this throw was for Catfish.

“Thanks.” He caught it.

“You’re fucking lucky,” Pope grinned.

“I know.” Frankie threw it back.

“When is the next date?” Benny plucked it out of the air, a strange look in his eyes. The rest of the team was already back in the locker rooms, but they had held Frankie back, curious. He had spent the morning practice practically glowing, playing well, but suspiciously distracted. Initially, there was an onslaught of teasing and questions and exaggerated berating, but now they had quieted, actually processing this, as friends. Will look satisfied, happy even, but Frankie kicked himself, remembering too late that Ben’s most recent romance hadn’t worked out.

“Tonight – she thinks the parties are bad news,” he said it carefully - Ironhead had been the one to start sharing their pasts with you, but it was really out there now, for you to take or leave. He moved past them towards the showers and he heard Tom snort, making an exaggerated whipping sound. The older man had listened to his abbreviated story with a stoic face, just raised eyebrows and his arms crossed. Frankie’s jaw clenched, wondering if he should retort, but he didn’t get the chance.

It was quiet, but Will added, “She’s not wrong,” in that even, reasonable tone of his. The tension fell, and then rose, sharply, a testament to the respect they all held for the first-baseman's opinion. Trudging through the hallway suddenly felt too fast, too dangerous, like the conversation should’ve stayed outside. A long moment filled only by footsteps as they all considered, before Ben spoke.

“Can I come?” Frankie stopped walking, turning incredulously and Santi smacked the rookie on the back of his head. Benny glared, but without any real bite. “Ow, fuck you - I’d rather hang out than go to another one of those stupid parties, wouldn’t you?” He looked defiant, meeting each of their eyes and gesturing with both of his arms, goading them to answer him, to disagree.

No one did, not even Tom, who glowered, the leather of his glove folded into deep wrinkles. Will’s blue eyes met the brown of Santi’s, and his mouth hooked into a smile. Deep laughter went a long way to thawing tension when it was genuine, and it was.

“Ben, you can’t crash Fish's date, we can do something else,” Will took his own turn smacking his brother but it was a bit of a bold statement. There were days when it felt like they really couldn’t so anything else, like there wasn’t other options that felt real – but they should be able to.

Frankie dragged a hand over his face before groaning a muffled, “Wait,” and sighing. He cursed, not even aware of what language it was in, occupied by the thought of what you would say if you were here. It was ridiculous but it felt right, and it was an opportunity for him to slow down again. “Honestly she would probably love if you guys hung out.”

There was a beat, where they stared at him, before the debate began. It didn’t last long, hushing as they reached the locker room, but by the time they were clean and dried and settled, it was decided. There really wasn’t a downside to it and really, they were all figuring you out, too. The lure of your smiles and home cooked food far outweighed the temptation of loud music and sticky floors and girls too tipsy to talk with, at least this time.

In the lull between the practice and the game, Frankie tried not to jump whenever his phone made a noise. One date in, and he was already daydreaming about just driving to your house and just kissing you until one of you had somewhere better to be. But you had a job, and things to finish so you had time for his game that evening, and he was acutely aware that while you had let that incredible evening – yesterday? – happen, he would need to slow down. He had already told you, he wanted to do this right.

He confirmed the plans for the evening, smiling as you agreed to host all his friends, and then tossed his phone into his bag. Then put a jacket on top of the bag, folded twice so it balanced precariously. When it buzzed he made himself take a lap around the building, and wanted to bang his head against the wall when it was a random email.

And all evening the thought of you. The game rolled in, and he squatted bitterly, annoyed his position left his back to the crowd. It meant he couldn’t look for you, and James. Logically he knew, even if you had told him your exact seats, he wouldn’t be able to make you out unless you were close, but that didn’t stop him from wishful thinking.

Catch, catch, walk, sit, swing, hit, run, walk, sit. Repeat.

The game built, and tensions were high as the scores stayed close and the crowd whispered about playoffs. It was the worst time for him to be batting, the pressure too high to be on the shoulders of a catcher, but it couldn’t be helped.

He walked out, listening to the blast of an old song too familiar to recognize, and the rumble of the announcer.

Frankie looked towards the crowd, knowing you were out there and fruitlessly wishing he could see you. He stopped at the plate, shifting on the balls of his feet, feeling the dirt under his cleats and trying to imagine your eyes on him. His hands tightened, loosened, tightened again, the wrap on the handle of the bat protested the movement, and he tried to hear you whispering his name.

You were cheering for him, right?

The ball hit his bat with a satisfying crack, and he didn’t watch where it went before he ran.

James was stalling.

You were supposed to drive him home, as always, but after spending most of the game filling him in about you and Francisco, there was no convincing him to move faster.

He wanted to see the man who had kissed his granddaughter – more than once! – and look him over again. The sweet, elderly man could be quite determined, especially when it involved two of his favorite people in the whole world. It meant waiting until the crowds fled and dodging staff who would no doubt shoo you away, but the eagerness on his little, wrinkled face made him impossible to deny.

“Jimbo, you’ve already met him,” you tried again, listening to the shrieks of a fangirl. After the surprising home run, the catcher was in high demand, and it made your stomach twist.

You had woken up this morning still shy and baffled at what you were to him, what was happening. So much had happened in such a short amount of time, and you talked a lot, but not about... you, together. But James was certain, this was it, and he wanted to look Francisco in the eyes before he gave you his blessing.

His hand was in your elbow and you tugged, again, before withering under his look. He began lecturing you, about this being his job and you offered a compromise. This time, you weren’t invited, but you guided him towards the lobby where friends and family met the players, and when they let you in, you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding.

Santiago found you first, and both of you got big hugs from him and the Miller boys, as they told you animatedly about how much hell they gave Frankie for bringing you home the first date. You barely got a word in, but you grinned as James joined their indignation.

In truth, your eyes were looking for Frankie, and you chided yourself at how much you ached for him, as always.

After a few minutes, Will pushed you towards the locker room, and you shot him a grateful smile. All the other players were clear, he told you, Frankie was being a baby about facing the fans. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, confirming that he was at loathe to run into anyone but you. They kept your grandfather occupied, and you knew they were in good hands as he was insisting he was hosting game night, that night.

Ducking into the hall, you followed the tile and the gaudy decorations, and found him.

Frankie, your Francisco was freshly showered, tshirt and jeans marked with drips from his curls, fiddling with his phone like he was waiting for you to text back. When he saw you, he dropped it into his bag, and your arms and eyes were suddenly full of him.

It was a crushing hug, he was eager and almost bursting with pride. You made a noise, you know you did, when only your toes were touching the ground, but he didn’t spin you around before he set you down.

He tried to pull away, he really did, but he couldn’t help but stay close, and you could’ve sworn his cheeks were flushed as you congratulated him, telling him admiringly about how exciting his home run was.

Feeling him against you again was surreal. Mere weeks ago you had been watching him from a distance, and then burying ridiculous daydreams under the rug in your mind. And yet here he was, looking at you with the same softness as he had the night before, without regret, and like reality was better than a dream.

When he asked why and how you were here – not that he was complaining, you told him and explained about James. He only smiled, shifting closer to you again, telling you after all you put up with yesterday, he could certainly do this for you.

There was a pause, the air both clear and thick at the same time, and his head tilted, hands shifting on your hips. Thoughts of your family and friends and food slipped from your mind as his face drew closer, the tip of his nose tapping yours.

Brown eyes, searching your face, you almost felt like you could count his eye lashes. Frankie had little freckles, faint, spattered across the tan skin of his neck and face, and there were sweet little sparse patches in his beard.

“You know, we wont get any time alone, tonight.”

His tone was thoughtful, but he said it like he almost didn’t hear himself, and you could feel the edges of the words against your lips.

The hand on your hip slid up. Up and up, until it settled on the back of your head and he was pressing into you. Frankie’s kisses were deep and slow, like he couldn’t believe last night was not a figment of his imagination, and you wound your arms around him before you got lost in them. There were words in them, distant proclamations and promises and you pulled him into you, yearning to hear them clearly.

It could’ve been a minute or half an hour, between that moment and when he pulled away. With shock, you realized you had been pushed against the locker with his name on it, and his palm was cushioning your head.

There was a clatter of aluminum against the floor, and you jumped like caught teenagers. Then you were firmly planted on the ground again, and Frankie was turned around, shielding you like it was already instinct. Neither of you saw anyone, and his laughter was bashful and sweet. When he said you should probably go, and took your hand, you heard a genuine roughness in his voice.

Behind another row of lockers, Molly whispered into Tom’s neck, “Do you need to go, too? There’s that party tonight.” And he shrugged.

The environment at James' home was completely different than last time they were there. Things were less clean, there was less food, and everyone was twice as comfortable.

It was strange, what really knowing them did - they teased you more, and breathed easier, as if they had never met someone who hadn’t minded it all.

“Juice packets?” Will asked, confused at the drink selection, and you smiled when Santi winked at you. Tom hadn’t come but you thought it would be best to play it safe. It was important to you, that if they were choosing this over a party that it was lighthearted, sincere and simple.

“I just thought it would be fun,” you gave as your only explanation and he didn’t question it further. He did drink them three at a time, though, and when you laughed, you swore you saw his smile lines.

Benny was on your team, yelling and by far the most competitive, Santi and Will’s luck encouraging it every step of the way. They bickered like kids, bellowing laughter and rambunctious celebrations included. You made an extra rule – anyone who hit you with a pillow or playing piece had to buy you ice cream, next time the opportunity came up.

If should’ve been distracting, how James had pulled Frankie to the side to talk, but it warmed your heart. You didn’t need to swoop in and rescue him – they were talking like old friends, like Frankie was genuinely interested and invested in your beloved grandfather.

Every once in awhile, he would look up and meet your eyes, watching you with his friends with one corner of his mouth pulling higher. Once, you blew him a kiss and he scrunched his nose, like it hit him between the eyes.

Later, you scooted over to them, trying to steal him back, James leaned over and ruffled your hair before sternly, adorably telling you to let him have his turn with Frankie. When Frankie joined him, jokingly telling you to back off, you thought if it didn’t work out with him, Jimbo would adopt him.

The night stretched beautifully late, before your grandfather lectured them on the importance of sleep and Benny spun you around in victory. There were stars in the sky, and you listened to their chatter fade as they piled into their cars, surprised at how affectionate you felt for all of them, after so little time and such unlikely circumstances.

Frankie had stayed back, accepting goodbye hugs, and leaning against your car as you waved the other’s off. Of course, you asked, but he didn’t tell you what they talked about and he didn’t linger as long as you had hoped he would.

His kiss was sweet and chaste, like he knew he had all the time in the world.

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge

hey batter batter taglist:

@icanbeyourjedi @studyofawearymind @hnt-escape @athalien @the-witty-pen-name @daffodin @sarahjkl82-blog @pintsizemama @anaaaispunk @pjkimrn @dobbyjen @stuckontheceiling

#francisco morales #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie x you #frankie x reader #catfish x you #triple frontier baseball au #hey batter batter #maybe i don't know people

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cozyenigma · 3 years

Text

Taking a Break

Pairing- Reader/Darkiplier

Word Count- 1096

Request?- Yes!

Summary: On a rare quiet day, you go and see if you can get Dark out of his office for once. You don’t think you had much luck but an off hand joke on your part might just do the trick.

Tag List- @cookielover0001010 , @swag-droid

It was a quiet morning. The quiet bit was already rare enough when everyone else was concerned and you usually weren't around to enjoy it. Right now though? Wilford had rounded nearly everyone up for a "field trip", willing or not. You shuddered to think what that'd involve. Dark was the only one spared. Even with Wilford's pouting, which was impressive, Dark had flatly refused.

Which left just the two of you.

Predictably, Dark had holed himself up in his office. Usually it was a bad idea to try and interrupt. Most of the others would get thrown out before they got two steps into the room. Wilford popped in and out at will. You had managed to make it as far as his desk a few times.

Dark was a workaholic by nature. He kind of had to be with the almost daily disasters and all. Though you weren't afraid to let yourself in sometimes, he would be too absorbed in his work for conversation. Well, that and he did a poor job of hiding his annoyance. Which was fine! Again, nearly constant problems he had to clean up. You were around when Bing accidentally flooded the entire first floor trying to do a trick. Dark had looked ready to kill someone then.

The door creaked as you poked your head into the room. Dark didn't look up from his work. He was sitting at his desk as usual, the early morning sun shining over his shoulders. You let yourself in and shut the door behind you.

As you approached, Dark's pen paused. Seeing as he discouraged visitors there were no chairs in there for anyone. Dark's eyes followed you as you came around to the side of his desk.

"Morning," you said.

Dark hummed in response, going back to his work. "Did you need something?"

"Well, no but I wanted to stop by." You watched as he flicked through some papers, a scowl on his face. "Figured you'd be in here all day otherwise."

That got a scoff. "That's the best case scenario."

It would frankly be a miracle if everyone made it back from their field trip in one piece. Especially with Wilford leading it. You knew that but still shifted awkwardly on your feet. Part of you had hoped for something different today. You could talk at least. When the two of you did, you found that it was actually enjoyable. It was easy to talk to him. At least, it usually was anyway. It was getting increasingly hard to tell if he enjoyed anyone's company, let alone yours.

Dark glanced up and you realized you'd just been standing there.

"Well, better stop annoying you before Wilford gets back to join in," you joked, going to leave.

"What?"

The confusion in his tone had you turning back around. Paperwork abandoned for now, Dark's brows were furrowed together as he stared at you.

"I'm just leaving," you said, jerking a thumb to the door.

"No, what did you say before that?"

"That I better stop annoying you before Wilford gets back?" Your own confusion grew as Dark stood.

He crossed the room in a few short strides and looked you up and down, crossing his arms. "What gave you that idea?"

"Uh-" Now that you actually had to explain it out loud you were less sure. Especially when he was looking at you like that. "Well it wasn't overly hard to tell, Dark. You don't exactly keep it a secret."

Dark narrowed his eyes, glancing back towards his desk before saying, "I see."

You could hardly react before he was grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the door.

"Dark what-" you realize that this is the first time he's actually touched you.

"Seems I need to correct this notion you have," Dark said and you had no idea what that even meant.

"You don't have to explain anything," you gave a little tug on your hand just for him to hold on tighter. "Plus I know you still have work to do."

"This needs my attention more."

The situation was rapidly spiraling out of your control. Dark led you out of the office and you dug your feet in, pulling your hand free. He turned to face you as you tried to explain yourself.

"Look, it's fine! You can go back to what you were doing and not..." you gesture vaguely, "whatever this is. I know you don't like much company. All I wanted was to see you for a minute."

"And what if I said I wanted to see you for more than a minute?"

Whatever you were about to say fled you. "What?"

Dark sighed. "I'm aware that I'm not as... open as people usually are. But I enjoy your company."

"Oh."

"Honestly, the work can wait." Dark waved a hand. "It's budgeting and you know what those idiots spend it on."

Considering Bim and Wilford liked to bounce ideas for new shows off of you? You knew too much about that honestly.

You huffed a laugh. "If you insist. What would we even do instead then?"

Dark shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

"Oh really?" You smirked. "I could pick almost anything with that answer."

"As long as it's with you," he said simply.

A beat passed. Dark had frozen where he stood. Now it was your turn to stare at him. Did he mean what you thought he did?

"Sounds like you enjoy my company a bit too much." Your words were teasing but the smile on your face was genuine.

Dark didn't say anything. Instead he glared a hole into the wall and, if you looked close enough, you could see a splash of dark grey across his cheeks.

"Dark are you blushing?" You asked, delighted.

All he did was cover his face with one hand as you grinned. Deciding to take the initiative, you reached out and took his hand. Dark sighed, glaring out at him between his fingers. The look didn't have near the amount of heat it usually did.

"Nope, the jig is up," you said, gently tugging on his hand. "Not gonna work on me. Plus I still gotta decide what to do until everyone else gets back."

Dark finally dropped his other hand, seemingly accepting his fate. "I'm never living this down am I?"

"Absolutely not."

Glancing back at him then, it was almost too quick for you to notice. It wasn't much of a smile by other people's standards but, sure enough, Dark was smiling. That little curve of the lips was worth it.

#dark x reader #darkiplier x reader #writersofmark #Darkiplier #youtuber ego #reader insert #markiplier ego x reader #ego fanfic #My writing

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9tzuyu · 3 years

Text

dissolve (rewrite)

natasha x reader

note: this was just a huge vent fic idk. these type of fics seem to be the only thing im okay at writing. mistakes are mine as always. but i did proofread, yay!

if you want to read the original (as awful as it is) you can read it here!

wanrings: this heavily revolves around eating disorders.

i’m not tagging anyone because the content isn’t really the lightest to read.

words are used everyday, everywhere – whether to describe something or someone. there’s thousands upon thousands of them.

so you were having a hard time figuring out why you were struggling so much to justify your feelings through the basis of words. it was unnerving, draining and very annoying. your emotions should be simple, right? you were either sad or happy, angry or scared. but there was something more, something unexplainable. saying you felt alone only scratched the surface of the wave of emotion that took over. it was excruciatingly painful, far worse than any physical pain you ever had to endure. and for some reason it seemed to come crashing down at night while natasha slept peacefully. you weren't exactly sure how to express your emotions to the extent you felt them. how else was anyone supposed to understand your pain? they couldn't, not unless they could somehow shift into your body and feel your emotions themselves. but that was merely impossible as such powers do not exist. so you were inevitably stuck with words foreign to your lips. over the years you were deemed unsafe, a hazard, "an accident waiting to happen" you recall one doctor say. everyone’s eyes were on you at all times, monitoring every little movement you made. it was suffocating and at times doing more damage than good.

as an adult now you learned how freeing it could be without the fear of gaining weight or eating a bowl full of rainbow marshmallow cereal. your worth was not defined by your weight.

(at least that's what you believed prior to any relapses.) everything was going well in your life. you were a college graduate working as a psychiatric nurse and you had found love, something your teenage self could only dream of. natasha was by your side through everything. and really, the only downfall in the relationship was that she had to travel a lot for her job. but you were secure enough in your relationship not to worry or decide to call things off. in the end natasha always made up for it when she came back, so you couldn't complain too much. things were going well for you, really, they were. until they weren't. (and you didn't know why.) it happened out of nowhere. work was a little more stressful than usual, but it was nothing you couldn't handle. natasha had been away for three months, only stopping by a few times to check in on you. but again, your wife being away for so long wasn't anything new or worrisome. the two of you had followed the routine of her leaving and coming back more than a thousand times; yet somewhere along the way you lost yourself. food became less of a priority, your hunger decreased drastically, and within the first month you'd lost thirteen pounds. it truly was an accident, slipping into a full blown relapse was never part of the plan. but thirteen pounds lighter you wanted more, to feel small again. you didn't have an answer as to why you became so attached to your eating disorder, but it didn't seem like it would be letting go any time soon. the rate at which you were going natasha would most definitely be able to see a difference; not only on your weight, but in the person you once were. she'd ask what happened and why it happened, poking and prodding for an answer, but you didn't have one. so here you stood in the kitchen of your shared home, a cup of sliced fruit in one hand and your cell phone in the other. you poured the fruit into the bottom of a blender along with a spoonful of yogurt and half a cup of soy milk. another half cup of ice followed suit. while the fruit blended, you shamelessly scrolled through your instagram. there was nothing interesting going on in other people's lives, you didn't even know why you had social media in the first place. it was dumb, and quite frankly you didn't give a shit whether or not sharon went to the beach. the sound of your blender coming to a halt brought your attention back to the real world. you poured your smoothie into your water bottle. the green liquid would be your breakfast and lunch for the day - dinner was still up for debate. a soft sigh left your lips. work was beginning to feel more like a chore and less of something you enjoyed. you were quickly growing tired of it. nonetheless, you grabbed your keys and rushed out of the door.

you thought about the irony of working as a psychiatric nurse with an undealt eating disorder telling teenagers how to deal with their own issues. you felt hypocritical to say the least, especially given that all the nasty side effects were starting to make themselves known.

your hair was beginning to thin, small clumps of it already starting to fall out when you tugged a little too hard. bruises could be seen scattered left and right on your body, and you were cold. god you were cold. your fingernails were tinted blue, warmth seemingly too far out of reach. you looked ill, and it didn't go unnoticed by your coworkers.

a few hours into your shift you found yourself sitting behind the nurses station filling out paperwork. lunch had passed and when your coworker, steve, asked if you were going to eat something you lied straight through your teeth, telling him you'd grab something when the patients were eating dinner.

but steve rogers could read you like an open book. he knew you were lying because he already knew what was going on. the signs of an eating disorder were quite obvious when you were a licensed therapist. and despite your futile attempts at hiding it, everyone could tell something wasn't right.

steve played it by ear for weeks until he contacted natasha, but by then you'd already lost a considerable amount of weight. as soon as she heard the news, natasha booked the next flight home. unfortunately for her though, there was only one flight and she would have to wait two and a half weeks before being able to leave.

you didn't know it, but those were the longest two and a half weeks natasha ever had to wait.

– patients were having group therapy, so you could tune them out - not that you should, but it was hard to focus when the only two things you could think about were food and your weight.

the need to lose weight sounded so stereotypical for someone with an eating disorder, but honestly it wasn't about that. it was never about wanting to be thin. you genuinely didn't know why this was happening. the only thing you noticed was how rewarding it felt seeing the number go down, as if for you were good for becoming less. it was addictive. and it didn't help that you based your entire worth on how much you could lose.

the next time you stood up from behind the nurses station steve met you in the the cafeteria. while the patients ate you took occasional sips from your smoothie. the bottle was still full of its contents from the morning. you had completely forgotten to drink it during the day, but you didn't seem to mind it that much.

the surprise touch of steve's hand on your shoulder startled you.

i am gross, you thought. do not do that.

steve caught onto the slight flinch your body produced as a reflex, but he didn't say anything about it.

"you can leave early, boss said so."

he laughed as he saw confusion plaster your face.

"what? no!"

"go home, seriously. we have this handled. you know tony doesn't like being told no."

you bit your lip, puzzled by the sudden request. most people wouldn't mind being sent home early, but all it did for you was give you a level of anxiety reserved for food.

what you didn't know was that natasha was home waiting for your arrival. she came back just short of an hour after you left for work.

while you were gone natasha made a few thorough rounds in the house looking for key signs of your eating disorder. there was bound to be evidence given that you didn't know she was home.

unsurprisingly, natasha found a glass scale beside the counter of the bathroom floor along with empty bottles of laxatives in the trashcan. the food in the fridge had been expired a few days past their date, giving her the indication that you weren't eating as much as you should be. her concern grew even more when she found your food journal on your nightstand. flipping the pages, natasha could see that throughout the moths she'd been gone your calorie intake had decreased significantly.

guilt began to gnaw at the back of her throat.

during the few days natasha stopped by, she hadn't noticed anything wrong with you. but then again she knew most people with eating disorders were very good at hiding them up until the point they were discovered. three days wasn't near enough time for her to catch onto your tricks, not when her mind was still focused on her job.

natasha always listened intently whenever you would talk about your eating disorder, the first time being six months into the relationship on a date you felt like you had ruined.

but talking about it was much different than experiencing it with you, natasha had never done that before up until now. she read nearly every article there was about anorexia, bulimia, binge eating disorder and ednos. sometimes when you were asleep she would watch documentaries on the disorder, always making sure to keep her volume at a low level.

the videos that hurt her the most were the ones teenagers struggling with the simple task of eating food.

(although natasha knew it wasn't that simple.)

it hurt because she knew that was you at some point in time.

upon your arrival, natasha cooked dinner. she wanted to hold onto the one sliver of hope that steve was wrong - that he was just overreacting - but she knew in her heart he was right about his assumption. however, dinner would only confirm what natasha so desperately wanted to deny.

when you walked through the door you were greeted with the overwhelming scent of food. you cringed at the thought of having to eat, but as soon as you looked up to see the redhead who'd been gone for so long your frown was washed away. a wide smile overtook your face and you rushed to jump into natasha's arms.

"i missed you so much," you whispered. "i thought you'd be gone for another few weeks?"

natasha's arms found their way around your waist as your legs wrapped around hers. "what? i can't come home early to surprise my wife?" you giggled in the crook of her neck. she smiled feeling the vibrations against her skin, happy to know that you'd missed her just as much as she missed you.

she sat you down, back facing you, she tended to the food. "you've lost weight," she commented, not missing the sharp inhale of your breath.

"how was work, nat?"

she nodded to herself. yeah, she didn't expect you to be so open on the first try.

"it was fine. dinner's ready, i made your favorite!" natasha threw a smile in your direction as she carried the plates over to the table. she had hoped to see your face light up the way it used to, but seeing the panicked look in your eyes further confirmed your relapse.

if nothing else, natasha wanted you to have a meal before she brought up the conversation.

"great... i love it, thank you nat!" your attempt at being enthusiastic failed miserably and you knew by the look she gave you, she already knew what was going on.

but throughout the meal, and despite the shakiness of your hand as it gripped the metal fork, natasha didn't say anything.

you weren't really sure which was worse; being confronted or knowing the both of you knew what the other was thinking and still not addressing it.

natasha's meal was good, you couldn't lie about that, but each bite you chewed caused the tightening in your chest to constrict further.

now you couldn't be good. or worthy. or deserving.

nat took away your plate when you were halfway through. she knew your limits, and she didn't want to push you too much out of your comfort zone.

"go change, i'll wash our dishes. meet you on the couch?"

you did as you were told, taking as long as you could to do so. except this time was different. you didn't glance in the mirror like you usually did, you chose to fully take in your figure.

what you saw was not what you expected to see. for the first time in months you saw a version of yourself that wasn't twisted and turned to be something you didn't know was real or not.

your skin was dry, hair thinned out beyond your belief, eyes sunken and dark underneath. the revelation gave you an odd feeling – was once again something unexplainable, unjustifiable by words.

good.

that was how you were supposed to feel, right? after all of this time, after the many pounds of protection and warmth lost, you were supposed to feel good.

but you didn't. and you never would.

there was something so surreal about the realization of your own destruction. you were aware now, which meant you had to either take responsibility or choose to lose everything you worked so hard for.

"y/n?"

your wife's voice snapped you out of your gaze and you scrambled to pile your dirty clothes and rush out of the bedroom.

as you made your way into the living room you could feel the intensity of natasha's gaze. any other time you would not mind her green eyes looking at you, but this time around you felt like you were in trouble.

she patted the empty spot next to her, to which you reluctantly joined. but even after everything you still tried to play it cool.

"what's up? is everything okay?"

she gave a low chuckle, "you tell me."

"what do you mean?"

"oh i think you know what i mean."

natasha’s reply was met with the loudest silence you ever had to sit through.

she bit her lip, "you know i got a call from steve a few weeks ago. he's concerned about you, and from what he's told me so am i."

you were quick to respond, automatically knowing what steve’s phone call was about. "i'm fine. so what if i've lost a couple of pounds? that doesn't automatically mean that im relapsing, natasha."

your quick snap reminded natasha that this kind of confrontation was like walking on eggshells.

she tilted her head, licking her lips. "i'm here with you, always." nat put a hand to the side of your face, gently rubbing her thumb at the top of your cheekbone. "i'm here."

it seemed pointless now to try and say anything because your secret was already out.

your mind began racing back and forth.

you wanted to keep what you knew best and natasha understood that. even by reading your body language she knew what you were debating.

"you know, to keep it you have to give it away." your eyes darted to meet hers. "mhm. you can still have that piece of you. mourn it, grieve it, do whatever you need to do to move onto a stage where it doesn't hurt you. and from there you can help other people, share your experience, let yourself heal by helping others."

she paused, “we all have choices. some of those choices are taken from you while others leave you with only one option.”

although what she said seemed to resonate with you, there was one thing still holding you back.

"i just want to be good."

natasha hummed. you had explained it to her in the past, though your words were jumbled together as you tried to describe it.

"you can be good in other ways. you're allowed to live a life outside of the barriers your eating disorder puts in the way."

you swallowed the lump in the back of your throat. "i don't even know how it got to this point. in january i enjoyed ihop and dennys. in february i could have oatmeal and bananas, sometimes half of a sandwhich if i was feeling brave. now it’s march and i only eat one or two things a day. the idea of having a full meal makes me want to cry. and i just- i don't know how to stop."

natasha wouldn't show it, but your words cut through her heart like a knife. her mind wandered briefly to all the teenagers in the documentaries she'd watched, hoping you weren't too far gone into your eating disorder to ever come back. those cases scared her the most.

"you've got my complete support. you've tackled this before, maybe this time you can beat it? i know its easier to abuse your body instead of growing comfortable in it, but i think you’ve got this. i know you do."

"what about your work?" your question caused natasha to frown. "you think i wouldn't set my job aside for you?" you shrugged, it's not like you felt like you were worth being taken care of anyway.

natasha grew hesitant to tell you her news, but did it anyway because she’d rather you hate her than see you dead. "i've already made some appointments for you. the first one is tomorrow morning."

"i figured you would natasha. it's okay."

you spaced yourself out the rest of the day. each time you made the executive decision to recover, whether that be a genuine recovery or not, the process never failed to remind you that even trying to recover from an eating disorder felt like mourning the loss of a friend who was never good for you in the first place.

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #avengers x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff imagine

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