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marvelouslizzie · 6 months

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Pretty Little Thing - co-written with @notafunkiller

Summary: Your long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, is a regular at the bar where you work, and tonight, it's impossible to avoid serving him for the first time.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: +18, alcohol, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 3.8K

A/N: @notafunkiller and I merged our separate ideas into one and this is the outcome. It was so much fun to write. We hope it'll me the same while reading too.

All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.

You thought this night would be calm and easy, that nothing significant would happen. All that changed when Bucky Barnes set foot in the bar. It’s not his first time here by any means, but until now you successfully managed to avoid him by asking the other bartender to serve his side. This time, unfortunately, you are working alone. It’s a slow night, so there’s no way you can really avoid him.

You watch him find an empty place and sit down, and you really don’t know what to do. You can feel yourself sweating already. You are so nervous. Not because you are afraid of him or anything. He doesn’t look scary. Not to you. You are afraid to embarrass yourself in front of him, but you should be able to ask for his order and serve it without messing it up. That’s not so hard.

Just keep it simple, you tell yourself.

“Hey, what can I get you?”

Bucky looks up from his phone straight into your eyes, and you freeze a little.

“Hello, do you... a draft beer, please.”

His answer confuses you. That’s not his usual order.

“You sure you don’t want something stronger? We have that bourbon.” You curse yourself internally for paying attention and not being able to hold your tongue.

He raises his eyebrow surprised. “How do you know that? There is no way you served me any drinks cause I would remember you.”

He frowns as soon as he finishes speaking. Maybe you helped your colleague or maybe you were informed about what he drinks just in case he showed up. He’s still the Winter Soldier after all.

“I never served you before.” You say with a shy smile. You hope this is enough of an answer for him.

“Do I look like a bourbon man?” He asks playfully before giving you a smile that transforms his face a little, softening his features.

“You look like you enjoy quality stuff, and between you and me, our draft beer is shitty.”

That comment makes him chuckle. You’re so distracted by his face that you don’t notice how his eyes fall straight to your breasts.

“Thanks for the tip. Normal beer then?”

“If you insist.” You smile and open the small fridge under the bar where you keep some of the beers. You quickly open it and put it right in front of him, not realizing that gesture shows off your bartender skills a little bit.

He doesn’t look away from you as he takes a big sip before placing the bottle on the table quickly.

“For how long have you been working here?”

“For the past year.” You avoid making eye contact while drying some of the freshly washed glasses.

“Oh.” He sounds kind of taken aback. “I’m surprised you never served me. I’ve been coming here for what? Seven months?”

“Eight.” You bite your bottom lip as soon as the word slips out, trying to shut yourself up so you won’t mess up even more. What were you thinking? Well, you weren't…

His eyes immediately glow, and you wonder if you fucked up for good.

“So you’ve been keeping an eye on me?” He brings the bottle to his mouth and before you can say anything, you watch him finishing it in one go.

“I just noticed you.” Of course, you kept an eye on him, but you played it down a little.

“Well, I didn’t notice you,” he says regretfully. “And I wonder how. I am pretty aware of my surroundings... especially if they are full of beautiful people like you.”

You can’t help but blush, yet you try to sound unaffected. You don’t know if you succeed or not, though.

“This place is usually so crowded and full of… people. So it’s normal.”

“Neah,” he denies immediately. “Have you been hiding or something?”

“I was just on the other side of the bar.” And you were trying to hide from him, saving yourself from this embarrassment because you knew if you talked to him you would fuck up. You were right.

“So I was on the wrong side this whole time.” He shakes his head. “Another beer, please, doll.”

“The same?” You ask while trying not to dwell on the pet name he uses.

“Yes, please. And one drink for you. Whatever you want, if you are allowed to drink, of course.”

The way he offers to buy you a drink surprises you. You feel quite nervous, but you try to maintain your calm. He’s probably just being nice, right?

“I am allowed to drink, but that’s not necessary.”

He pouts. “I didn’t mean you need to talk to me for it, doll. There are no conditions for this drink.”

“Oh.” You didn’t even think he would take it this way. “That’s not why I said it’s not necessary. I wasn’t worried about that.”

“Okay. Whatever you want... I won’t insist.”

“It’s just… I am allowed to drink whatever I want. You don’t need to pay for it.” You try to explain so he won’t take it the wrong way.

“Alright,” he says, a little distant, as you open up another bottle of beer and put it in front of him.

“I just didn’t want you to pay extra when I can get it for free.” You don’t know why you are explaining yourself like this. It’s normal not to accept drinks from customers.

“It’s fine, I totally understand. Thank you!” He reaches for the bottle immediately.

You take a fancy glass out of the rack and pour yourself one of the ready-to-serve cocktails that your colleague prepared, right in front of him. He doesn’t say anything as he keeps staring at your hands.

“Thanks for the drink.” You say while putting the bottle away.

“Me?” He asks surprised. “Thought this is on the bar.”

“Well, you gave me the idea, and if you really insist on spending your money so unnecessarily, who am I to stop you?”

“That’s a good attitude.” He smiles again before bringing his bottle close to your glass. “Cheers to a good Thursday in a lovely company.”

You clink your glass with a smile on your face. It seems like he finally understood your intention, so you feel relieved.

“How does that taste?”

“Don’t let the color fool you, it tastes really strong but delicious.” You look at him for a second and notice that got his interest. “Wanna taste it?” You offer your own drink to him, and he contemplates for a few seconds before leaning in.

“Yes, I am curious.”

You hand the glass to him. Your fingers touch for a second, and you get so excited that you worry about dropping the glass. It’s like your heart is in your throat.

“Your hands are cold,” he comments casually before taking a sip right from the spot covered by your lipstick. You gasp. You have no idea if he did it on purpose, but the way he’s drinking it… your body is responding to that so much. You clear your throat, trying to calm yourself down.

“Delicious.” He smiles, handing back your glass, and you notice a bit of lipstick in the corner of his mouth.

It creates this internal dilemma. Should you just let him know about it or act like nothing happened and let him walk around like this? The second one could cause him a lot of embarrassment, and you don’t wanna be the reason for that. That’s why you suddenly find yourself leaning closer to him, just to wipe the lipstick off. He doesn’t move an inch, not jumping like you would expect, letting you touch him. When you realize what you are doing, you suddenly feel super self-conscious.

“You…” You gulp down. “You have… lipstick on… just here.”

You keep rubbing your finger against the corner of his mouth. You feel his stubble and how soft his lips are, but you try not to think about it. He chuckles, covering your hand with his. It surprises you so much that you freeze for a second. Then you look into his eyes, struggling to see if you made him feel uncomfortable or not.

“So considerate of you. Thank you.”

You move your hand away from his mouth but not away from his touch. Somehow you can’t find the strength to do that.

What he does next, though, makes you completely breathless. He brings your hand to his mouth again, but this time he presses his lips gently against your skin, smiling right after. Your eyes open with surprise, feeling completely speechless, yet you don’t move away. You don’t even realize you are smiling slightly.

“Your hands are still so cold.”

“Yeah…” You try to speak, but it feels like your words are stuck in your throat. “They are always cold.”

“We need to change that.” He places another kiss on your hand.

He’s surprisingly nervous as he leads you to the living room. Based on his confidence back in the bar, you didn’t expect him to become so shy all of a sudden.

“Do you want some coffee?”

“No.” You answer quickly. The only thing you want is to feel his lips again but you keep that thought to yourself.

“What do you want then?”

It’s obvious in his tone and the way he looks at you he doesn’t ask you about drinks.

“You.” You can’t believe you said this out loud, but it’s the truth.

He doesn’t need another push as he comes closer, grabbing you by the chin. Your lips crash together with an almost desperate hunger. He takes the opportunity immediately, getting his tongue inside your mouth in a fervent exploration. The sensation is electrifying.

You let him explore your mouth while you focus on his taste. It’s so unique and tasty, you just can’t get enough of it. Your hands slowly move toward the back of his head, pulling him closer.

“Fuck,” he groans when he feels your touch, breaking the kiss just to move his lips to your neck.

“Mhmm… James.” His lips feel so good against your neck. It just sends a jolt of arousal through your body.

But then he freezes, with his mouth glued to your neck. You open your eyes confused wanting to ask him what happened, and that’s when you realize what you’ve just said.

“You know who I am?” His voice is a warm whisper against your skin.

“Of course, I know who you are.” You make it sound so natural as if there’s no way you wouldn’t know who he is. “You think I go to the houses of men I don’t know?” You say playfully.

“I didn’t mean that...” He raises his head from the crook of your neck just to look you in the eye. “I didn’t mean it offensively, I just wasn’t sure. I’m just stupid, I didn’t expect it.”

“I know who you are, James Bucky Barnes.”

“Fuck,” he groans, bringing his thumb to your bottom lip. “Say it again.”

“James Bucky Barnes or just James?”

He kisses you more desperately than before, his hands finding your hips as he gently grabs them, pulling you so close that you can feel his erection. You gasp so softly, but he hears it anyway, and you settle on his hard cock so it’s right against where you want it to be.

He moans. “Let’s go to the bedroom, doll.”

“Why?” You ask innocently as if you don’t know what he means. “Isn’t your couch comfortable enough?”

For him? Sure. But for you?

“The bed is better.”

“Okay.” You sound so obedient suddenly as you wrap your legs around his torso.

He immediately lifts you up without effort, and you smile, letting him carry you toward his room. He’s a super soldier after all. He closes the door with his foot as soon as you’re inside, then he gently puts you on the bed, like he’s afraid you might break. The way he’s acting is so endearing, but you want him to let go really badly. Even the manner he starts to take off your pants is too gentle.

You let him undress you the way he wants, though. Then you move closer to him, taking his clothes off, your movements not as gentle as his. You are impatient and needy. You see him holding his breath when you reach to touch his chest, close to where his metal arm begins, so you lean in to leave a kiss right there. You don’t know if you are crossing a line, but you have to. He should know that this is not something that would bother you, on the contrary, it turns you on even more. When he doesn’t move away from you, you keep kissing around his scars and his chest. Your hand is on his shoulder, gently caressing.

“That feels so good, doll,” he says with a sigh before he grabs your waist. “but it's time for me to eat.”

You find yourself on your back so suddenly that you don’t even have time to react. He quickly settles between your legs and you understand exactly what he meant. He lifts them enough so you can rest them on his shoulders as he gets more comfortable on his tummy. You feel a hole in your stomach immediately. You can’t believe Bucky is between your thighs, about to eat you out.

He’s taking his sweet time at first, kissing down your thighs and even smelling you before he finally brings his tongue to your entrance.

“Come on, James. Don’t tease me.” You look down just to see him smiling.

“Why not? You seem to enjoy it.”

“I would enjoy it more if you stopped teasing and started eating.”

Surprisingly, Bucky doesn’t waste more time and properly starts to fuck you with his tongue. He’s not too quick, nor too slow with his moves, and you’re shocked when he brings his fingers to your mouth.

“Need you to make them wet for me, please.” Even while saying that, he sounded a little too polite.

“On one condition,” you say, looking directly into his eyes. “Stop acting like I am made of glass.”

“But you kinda are.”

“I am not. Believe me.”

He says nothing, making sure to lick your slit before getting his tongue inside you again, his fingers, glued to your lips. You take it as a silent agreement and you open your mouth, suck his fingers, and let him wet them. When he thinks it’s enough, he gently takes them out and brings them right to your clit. He doesn’t touch it directly at first, teasing around it until you move your hips a little, needing to feel your clit stimulated.

“Please.” The way he’s taking his sweet time is so frustrating.

He lets his hand drop and instead of feeling his fingers on your clit, you feel his tongue at the same time he gets a finger inside you. You moan loudly, finally getting what you wanted from the start.

His other hand reaches for yours when he hears you grabbing the sheet, and you immediately hold it, enjoying how his cold metal feels. When you feel the second finger and he scissors both of them inside you, you’re shocked by how close you suddenly are. You can’t help but arch your back and move your hips, needing it faster.

He reads the signals pretty quickly and lets you use his mouth while he keeps pumping his fingers. It doesn’t take long for you to gasp, moan, and start to shake because of the pleasure he’s giving you.

“James! Shit. I’m- gonna… ahh… come.”

You moan louder than you expected, dropping your head against his sheets, possessed by a great wave of pleasure. You want to tell him not to stop anything, but you can’t. And you don’t need to as he keeps licking and fingering you while you ride your orgasm out, prolonging it as much as possible.

When it’s done, you are feeling so good yet you are hungry for more. You raise your head a little and see Bucky still between your legs, but this time his beard is covered with your slick. He looks so handsome. His blue eyes are shining and his hair is all messy. It makes you wanna kiss him and that’s exactly what you do. You reach down to him, and he meets you in the middle, kissing you the way he was just eating you out: with passion and hunger.

He’s less gentle than before as you feel his hands grabbing your breasts, but it’s still not enough. You cover his hands with yours and push him to grab them harder than before. You let out a muffled moan while kissing him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You find yourself blushing like you two aren’t having sex. To mask your reaction, you reach out to his hard cock, gently grabbing it.

“Oh god,” he groans as he instinctively squeeze your breasts harder.

“Mhmm, yes.” You lean into his touch. “Just like that.”

Bucky looks at you as if you said something shocking. Is he not used to communicating during sex?

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“You’re surprising me for someone so delicate.”

“I told you, I am not.”

He smiles. “Do you wanna help me put on a condom then?”

“I would love to, but…” You smile. “What if I told you I am clean and on the pill?”

“Fuck, I need you.” He kisses you suddenly. “Now.”

“I am right here.” It sounds so calming. “You can take me however you want.”

You’re not only on your back in the next second, but you also have his cock lined up at your entrance.

“Jesus, doll! For a pretty little thing, you’re quite nasty.”

“I just know what I want.” And this is it.

He nods, wrapping your legs around his ass at the same time he pushes inside you. In a second, your head is thrown back while you moan loudly. The way he fills you is so delicious. It makes you feel so full but not uncomfortable.

“You’re taking me so well already.”

“Please…” You raise your hips to create more friction. “Please, move.”

He brings his mouth to your breast a little before he starts thrusting, making sure to leave a small hickey right on top of it. It hurts so good, and you moan without holding back. It is music to Bucky’s ears. He just wants to hear it again, so he does it again.

“You want it rough, don’t you?” He thrusts harder than before. “You’re so needy.”

“Yeah.” Your voice is so shaky already. “I told you already.”

“Told me what?” He teases. “I don’t remember.”

“That I am not made of glass.”

“No, you are made for me.” He brings his hand to your face to move the hair strands that cover your eyes. “For my cock.”

“In that case…” You don’t know where the sudden rush of confidence comes from. “You are made for me. To fill me up.” You move your hips again, trying to fuck yourself on him.

“Oh, god. You’re so fucking wet,” he moans. “I am, I’m gonna fill you up so much.” He kisses you suddenly, your teeth almost crashing together because of the thrusts, but you don’t care.

“Can’t wait.” You tease him. “Don’t hold back, okay?”

He says nothing, letting his head drop a little so he can suck on your neck properly. He’s definitely fucking you harder. He pulls until he’s almost completely out of you before thrusting inside you again. And again. And again. It takes your breath away. The way it makes you feel is indescribable. You lose the little remaining control you had and just turn into a moaning mess.

“Say my name, baby. C-come on.”

“James?” You sound hesitant even if you don’t mean to because you don’t know which name he wants to hear.

“Again,” he begs, his metal arm on your leg pushing it right against his ass.

“James!” This one comes out so naturally. No questions, no hesitation. You just breathe out his name with a moan.

“God, you look so beautiful. So pretty with my cock inside you.” His thrusts get faster, and you have no idea how he can speak so well while you’re a mess.

“I’m so close,” you can barely say without taking a breath in the middle of the sentence.

“What do you want?”

“Just… harder.”

“Like this?” He asks, suddenly thrusting a little harder than before. “Or like this?”

“This! Yes! Just like this!”

“You just want it hard.” He whispers against your ear. “What a dirty girl.”

You hear him, but you can’t respond. You are too busy coming all over his cock, and it feels like you are in heaven. He continues to fuck you as the pleasure fades away, murmuring how pretty you are and how good you make him feel before he comes, too, grabbing the bedpost behind you with his metal arm. It makes a clicking sound, but you don’t care, opening your still foggy eyes just to watch him.

There’s so much come. You can already feel it dripping out of you as he keeps fucking you. You expect it to end soon, but it doesn’t. It goes on and on. The way he loses control as he comes just triggers another orgasm out of you. You would be surprised how quickly you could come again if it didn’t feel overwhelmingly good. You can’t think about anything other than him and the way he makes you feel.

His come is getting all over your thighs and ass, and the bed, as he moans. “Kakaya khoroshaya devochka.” What a good girl.

You can’t help but laugh despite not understanding a word of what he says. “Is that Russian?”

He opens his eyes, and the blue you love is almost completely grey. “Yes.” He sounds confused, too.

“What does it mean?” Your afterglow can’t overshadow your curiosity. “If you don’t tell me, this isn’t happening again.” You try to make it obvious you aren’t serious with your playful tone. Especially not after those orgasms.

“Look at you, little and feisty, blackmailing me.” He chuckles before leaving a kiss on your lips. “I told you what a good girl you are. I didn’t realize I spoke in Russian.”

You laugh a little. “Say it again.” You give him the cutest look. “Please?”

“Ty moya khoroshaya devochka.” He repeats softly. You’re my good girl.

You don’t even realize how content you look as you keep smiling.

“Now, I can get used to that.”

“Say my name again, please.”

You love the neediness in his voice. “James?” You tilt your head a little. “Or would you prefer Bucky?”

“Fuck, it doesn’t matter.” His thumb is suddenly on your lips. “I can get used to that, too.”

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struggling-with-drivers · 5 months

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People Watching - Lando Norris

⋗ Pairing - Lando Norris x Reader

⋗ Summary - You've never been in love, at least you don't think you have

⋗ Word count - 2k words, fluff, [Requested by Anon]

⋗ Masterlist - requests are open, this was just a short cute idea I had on my mind after getting a request. Feedback and reblogs are appreciated

You’re enjoying a nice lunch with Lando. He has a lot of things to be doing after, but for now. It’s just the two of you, a set of good friends. Your eyes wander over his face, a soft look of concentration is on his face as he tries to take pictures of you and your lunch. The way his lips are slightly strained, as he keeps fiddling with his camera. Then he rearranges your glasses, and then he puts them back, before rearranging them once more.

“Do you need help?” You ask, a small laugh bubbling in your throat, as he can’t seem to get the shot he wants.

“No no, just keep sitting there, you look good!” He chirps up, quickly dismissing the thought of you moving from the pose he instructed you into.

Your laugh finally makes it way past your lips, at the absurdity of the scene, your eyes close as the flash goes off once more. You don’t notice how Lando mutters, got it, nor how he takes a few more just for his enjoyment.

“Time to dig in.” Lando scrambles to sit down and stuffs his mouth with his slightly cold food.

You stick a bit to your food, but your gaze falls out onto the crowd of people navigating outside. So many couples are spread across the grid as all the fans gather to get a closer look at the cars. Despite your perspective from above, the thing most glaring to you seems to be all the hands clasped into others.

“How long do you think they’ve been together?”

“What?” Lando looks up from his plate of food, trying to follow your gaze, but he gets lost in the crowd of people immediately, not at all being able to figure out where your eyes are looking.

“The elderly couple.” You say, as though it’s the most obvious thing, as though there aren’t multiple, as though you and Lando didn’t call Max Verstappen and his girlfriend an elderly couple last weekend, despite Max barely being 2.5 years older than Lando and less than 2 years older than you.

“Three days.” Lando says, voice full of conviction, “They actually met this Tuesday and have had the wildest sex for 3 days straight, before any of their children realise that their parents are missing from the nursery home.”

You snort loudly, accidentally getting soda into your nose, making Lando laugh with you, as you struggle to breathe.

After recovering from your soda mishap, you wipe your nose with a napkin, still chuckling. Lando grins mischievously, taking a sip of his drink as he watches you with amusement.

“Smooth move, right?” he teases, referring to his imaginative tale about the elderly couple. “I mean, who wouldn't want a love story like that? Beats the usual 'met in high school and got married' scenario.”

You both share another round of laughter, the casual banter making the lunch even more enjoyable.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in love.” You sigh wistfully as you glance down at the crowd of people once more. “Not seriously. I mean, I’ve had a fling here and there, and a few you don’t know about.”

“Ouch.” Lando mocks being hurt, as he throws a piece of lettuce in your direction. Missing you completely. He’s an excellent driver, but a terrible thrower. You’re suddenly elated that he never became a handball athlete or a basketball player.

“I just mean, I’ve never had that big grand love moment, you know. Nobody has ever done any big gestures, I’ve never had fireworks go off during a kiss. Never pictured that American suburban picket fence dream, you know?” You rattle off as Lando leans his head to the side. You can see the grin on his face before the words leave his mouth.

“And here I thought you loved me,” he throws another piece of lettuce in your direction. It lands on your plate, and you cock an eyebrow at him, very unimpressed. “I don’t think I know anyone else that would get up at 3 am just to make the world's worst pancakes, all because it’s some pancake holiday, and I had to be out of the door at 5 am.”

The memory of that early morning springs vividly to your mind, and you can't help but chuckle at the recollection.

The night before Pancake Day, you meticulously planned your pancake surprise for Lando. You envisioned a perfect morning: the smell of freshly made pancakes wafting through the air, the joy on Lando's face as he discovered the delightful breakfast you had prepared just for him. However, the universe had other plans.

At 3 am, you tiptoed into the kitchen, trying your best to be as quiet as a ninja. Armed with a box of pancake mix, a whisk, and an optimistic spirit, you were ready to conquer the culinary world for the sake of surprising your friend.

The kitchen was dimly lit, and you moved with caution, not wanting to wake anyone up. As you began mixing the ingredients, you felt a surge of determination. This was going to be the breakfast surprise of the century. You even hummed a little tune as you worked, believing that love and effort could conquer any culinary challenge.

However, in your sleepy stupor, you made a crucial mistake. The sugar and salt containers looked eerily similar in the low light, and without double-checking, you confidently poured what you thought was sugar into the mix. Little did you know, you had just set the stage for a disastrous flavour profile.

Undeterred, you moved on, mistakenly grabbing the baking powder instead of the baking soda. As you mixed the concoction, the batter started to take on an unusual texture, but you pressed on, convinced that your culinary masterpiece was just a few flips away.

With the batter ready, you heated the pan and poured the first pancake, envisioning its perfect golden-brown finish. However, the sizzle that followed was more like a hiss, and the kitchen started to fill with an unpleasant aroma. You tried to fan away the smoke, hoping that the burnt scent wouldn't reach Lando's bedroom.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans. As the smoke thickened, a piercing sound echoed through the apartment – the unmistakable wail of the smoke detector. Panic set in, and you rushed to open windows, waving a towel at the alarm, and desperately trying to save the surprise.

Meanwhile, Lando stirred in his sleep, disturbed by the cacophony of the smoke detector. He stumbled out of his bedroom, bleary-eyed and disoriented, only to find you amid your culinary chaos, smoke billowing around you.

“Ah, Pancake Day,” you say with a grin. “I thought it would be a fantastic idea to surprise you with a breakfast feast before your busy day. On the other hand, I gave you a free day off from having to sit in on a bunch of meetings.”

“Yeah, because my house nearly burnt down, and a bunch of firefighters showed up.” Lando waves his fork at you. “I doubt a lot of other people would have done that.”

“Tried to burn down your flat?” You mock him, as you flick the piece of lettuce back to his plate.

He laughs, shaking his head. You’re missing his point, but he’s also not attempting to make it clearer for you.

“What about when I stay up with you on the phone, because a sale is starting past midnight, but you’re barely holding it together and it’s not even 10 pm? Isn’t that an act of love?” He asks, but he leaves no room for you to answer his question as he goes back to eating.

Lando can’t see the storm that’s slowly brewing behind your eyes, as you go over memories of your friendship. All the small things you do for each other. All the time you spend together.

As the memories flood your mind, you find yourself caught in a whirlwind of emotions. The snippets of shared moments and small gestures between you and Lando become a cherished montage.

There's the time when he surprised you with a playlist of your favourite songs on a day when you were feeling down, the carefully curated mix capturing the essence of your friendship. You remember the genuine joy on his face as he handed over the playlist, completely aware of how much music meant to you.

Then, there are the instances when you stayed up late into the night, listening to his racing stories and sharing in his victories and disappointments. You recall the laughter and camaraderie that transcended the distance, making those late-night conversations a treasured part of your connection.

Lando smirks mischievously as he eyes the last bite of your dessert.

"Mind if I grab that last piece? You know I need the extra energy for my thrilling life as a driver."

You narrow your eyes at him, holding the fork protectively. "Oh, please. The only thrill you get is trying to beat me at Mario Kart."

He chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "I'll have you know that being a Mario Kart champion requires skill and precision. It's practically a training regimen for the racetrack."

You scoff, taking a deliberate bite of the dessert. "Skill and precision? Last time I checked, you kept getting stuck in the void on Rainbow Road."

"That was a strategic move. I needed a better view of the stars," he replies with a grin, trying to swipe the fork again.

You playfully slap his hand away. "Nice try, but you're not getting this last piece. I already had to fight off your trainer once this month, because you keep stealing my food."

Lando feigns offence, placing a hand over his heart. "Are you saying I don't have the physique of a finely tuned athlete?"

"I'm saying you have the physique of someone who eats all the desserts that aren’t meant for finely-tuned athletes," you retort,

He leans in, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, at least I can burn it off on the track. What's your excuse?"

You raise an eyebrow. "I burn calories, dodging your attempts to steal my food. It's a full-body workout, really."

"Fair enough. But mark my words, next time we play Mario Kart, you won't stand a chance." Lando laughs, shaking his head.

"Bring it on, slowpoke. I'll be waiting with banana peels and blue shells," you challenge, finishing the dessert triumphantly, savouring the last bite right in front of him. Silence falls as he starts typing on his phone, and your mind gets distracted by what he said earlier.

As Lando mentioned, the nights when he stood by you during stressful sales and business endeavours resurface in your mind. The unwavering support he offered, even when the clock struck midnight and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm you, painted a picture of love in the small actions.

And of course, there are the countless times when he'd spontaneously pop by with your favourite snacks or the coffee blend you adore, just because he remembered. Those little acts of consideration spoke volumes.

Lost in these memories, you realise that love comes in various forms. It's not always grand gestures or sweeping romantic moments. It's found in the everyday kindness, the shared laughter, and the unwavering support that defines your friendship with Lando.

A thought strikes you down.

Do you love Lando?

Lando glances up from his phone, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. He meets your gaze, and there's a silent understanding between you. In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of shared laughter, failed pancake attempts, and genuine care, you realise that love, in its purest form, is already present in the beautiful tapestry of your friendship with Lando.

An even more terrifying thought hits you as he looks at you with that soft smile and those shiny eyes.

Does Lando love you?

⋗ a/n - thank you for reading this, I had a lot of fun writing this small piece, it was just pure fluff and enjoyment

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 #f1 #mclaren #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #mclaren f1 #f1 fic #formula 1 #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #ln4 fluff #ln4 fic #ln4 x you #f1 x reader #delias own writing

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cevansbrat0007 · 16 days

Text

What's Eating You, Mr. Barber?

Summary: You decide to test your man's patience with a prank you saw on TikTok. CLICK HERE to check out Ari Levinson's reaction to the same prompt.

Warnings: Mature Themes, References to Smut, Andrew Barber Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, TikTok Hijinks, Bickering, Manhandling, Ass Slapping, Daddy Kink, Allusions to Oral Sex, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt brought to you courtesy of a Reader Request. This fic features Andrew Barber from my Growing Pains Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

It’s hard for you to put into words just how much you love playing pranks on your unsuspecting husband. And after downloading TikTok, you’d discovered that the app was home to an online treasure trove of practical jokes designed to make your loved one’s head spin. While it had taken a few days for you to settle on the right prank, you were pretty confident that the one you’d chosen would earn you a fun reaction from Andy without you having to risk your ass in the process.

You find yourself grinning as you take your time prepping dinner, humming a little tune as you peel and press even more fresh garlic for your homemade tomato sauce. Tonight’s family dinner of spaghetti and meatballs promised to be very interesting. Which was why you’d also taken the liberty of setting up two hidden cameras – one in the dining room and one right here in your kitchen.

As of now, you had no plans to post this on your channel. But you also didn’t want to miss a minute of your man’s reaction. Until then all you had to do was play it cool for a couple more hours.

Later that Evening…

“Baby Girl, are you sure you don’t need any help?” Your husband asks after watching you make what easily had to be your third trip from the kitchen into the dining room.

Any other night you would’ve said yes, but not this one. Tonight you were flying solo. The cameras were already on and recording – you’d taken care of that before you’d started setting the table – and so far Andy hadn’t noticed a thing.

Hopefully you’d be able to keep it that way until it was time for the big reveal.

“No thanks, Big Man. This Mama only has to make one more trip and then we’ll be ready to eat.” You tell him before sitting two plates on the table in front of your two youngest children. You were down a kid tonight thanks to your oldest, Bianca, being away at a sleepover.

Andy nods before leaning over to adjust the small hand towel you’d previously tucked into the front of your three-year-old son’s t-shirt. Not that it really mattered all that much since you were positive he’d be swimming in sauce before the meal was over. But what kind of mother would you be if you didn’t at least try?

Biting your lip in anticipation, you scamper back into the kitchen to grab dinner for you and your husband. Andy’s plate was piled high with a generous serving of spaghetti and meatballs. Meanwhile, you give yourself hardly any.

And therein was the so-called prank. Earlier this week, you’d spent the better part of several hours gleefully watching as dozens of girlfriends and wives proceeded to serve their man impressive looking portions before sitting next to them with virtually empty plates for themselves. Many of the reactions had ranged from hilarious to heartwarming, with only a few dickish exceptions.

Glancing over your shoulder to ensure you weren’t being watched, you pick up various pans and quietly place them in your oven and out of sight. For this to actually work, Andy would have to believe that there wasn’t enough for seconds or leftovers. Once that’s done, you square your shoulders and confidently march back into the dining room with dishes in hand.

“I’m back.” You announce, placing a piping hot plate in front of Andy before taking your own seat at the table. “I tried something different with my sauce this time, so everybody dig in and tell me what you think.”

Andy absentmindedly rubs his palms together as he stares down at the fragrant heap of spaghetti before him. Silently, you will him to look over at what you’d served yourself, but you force yourself to remain quiet so as not to give yourself away.

“This smells amazing, sweetheart.” Your husband tells you, reaching for a piece of garlic bread. “I’ve been excited for this meal since you told me you texted me at 10:00am.”

“Glad to hear it, Daddy” You pick up the little bowl of parmesan you’d set out and hand it to your middle daughter, Katrina. “What does everybody else think?”

You take a brief glance around the table while you wait for feedback. And although you make a point of not looking at your husband, it’s impossible to miss the way he’s now staring at your nearly empty plate.

“Ooh.” You inwardly squeal, stopping just short of clapping your hands. “It’s starting!”

“What’s up with this?” His tone is rife with confusion, which only grows when you decide to ignore him in favor of dipping a small piece of bread into some sauce. “Hey – stop!”

“What?” When you finally deign to return his gaze. You have to choke back a laugh as you watch a bewildered Andy comically gesture between your two plates.

“What the fu–fudge,” he swiftly corrects, “is going on with your plate?”

“What do you mean?” You aim to keep your tone light and breezy.

Your husband lets out a frustrated sigh. “Where’s the rest of your food?” He jabs at your plate with his fork, holding up the half of a meatball you’d allowed yourself.

“This was all that was left.” You tell him with a shrug.

“What the hell are you talking about?” His confusion continues to mount even as pauses long enough to grab a napkin to wipe at his son’s increasingly messy fingers. “There was plenty of spaghetti left on the stove.” While he’s occupied you quickly check on little Rory, who appears to be faring slightly better.

“Not really.”

“Baby…” Andy pins you with a knowing look, one that you readily return.

“What? I…” You trail off, pretending to think. “After I realized BiBi wouldn’t be here tonight, I made some adjustments to the recipe. Turns out I didn’t make enough, so…” Another shrug. “This was all there was after I made everyone else’s plates.”

Andy is uncharacteristically quiet as leans back in his chair. Meanwhile, your children are busy staring at you, each of them sporting tiny, furrowed brows. Pursing your lips, you set your fork down on your plate and reach for your drink.

“You can have some of mine, Mama.” KitCat offers before sweetly pushing her plate towards you. The unexpected gesture touches your heart in more ways than one. Not to be outdone, your three-year-old twins also follow suit.

“That’s okay, babies. I’m perfectly fine.” You reassure them, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Besides, this is all I need and –”

“Thanks kiddos.” Your husband kindly interrupts as he places his napkin on the table. “That was very sweet of you, wanting to take care of your Mama like that.” His brilliant blue eyes beam with pride as he speaks. “But Daddy’s got this one.”

You’re momentarily taken aback when he stands, picking up his plate as he does. And you’re even more surprised when he motions for you to do the same.

“Can I see you in the kitchen for a moment?”

“Andrew, sweetheart, it’s okay. I promise.”

“Now, please.” It’s an order, that much you know. But at least your handsome ogre has enough sense to take on the word “please” at the end of it.

“Fine.” You huff before standing and following him out of the room, although not before encouraging your children to keep eating while you’re gone. Just because it was Friday doesn’t mean it was time to dispense their normal bedtime routines.

You were only playing a prank, not embracing total anarchy.

Once in the kitchen, you each take up residence in opposing corners. But of course, you’re careful enough to avoid blocking the view of the camera.

“Baby Girl.” Andy exhales, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Do you really mean to tell me that there’s no food left? You really made all that pasta and there’s nothing?”

“Yes, Andrew.” You lie without missing a beat. “I already told you. I trimmed down the recipe because –”

“Because Bianca is gone. Yes, I heard you.” He sets his dish down on the counter, openly scrutinizing it.

“So then what’s the problem?” You rest your back against your pantry while you wait for him to respond.

“The problem – my problem –” Andy is quick to amend, shaking his head. “– is that you expect me to sit back and watch you starve while everyone else eats. And I don’t like it.” He scrubs a weary hand over his beard. “Hand me your plate, beautiful.”

“Why?” It’s impossible to keep the suspicion out of your voice.

“Because I don’t need all of this.” He grunts, taking the plate out of your hands when you don’t comply fast enough. “In fact, I don’t need any of it. You eat and I’ll order myself a pizza after we put the kids down.”

“Andy!” You scoff, which comes out on the heels of a laugh.

“What?” The man is clearly confused by your dismissal of his offer. “I am capable of handling myself, okay? My hands work just fine.” He grates out, making a show of holding up a large, lightly calloused palm.

“But I…I made that plate for you.” You were seconds away from caving and you both knew it.

“And I’m telling you, my wonderful wife, that I want you to have it.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to –” You begin, wrapping your arms around yourself. It was time to fess up.

“Fine.” Andy breathes, taking a second to roll his broad shoulders. “Then we’ll split it.” He reaches for your hand, pulling you into his warm embrace so that he can whisper in your ear. “And then, after we put the kids down, we’ll order ourselves a pizza. Maybe open up a bottle of wine while we wait.”

“Yeah?” You murmur, relaxing as you bury your face in his chest.

God, he always smelled so good.

“Mhm.” He continues, nuzzling his nose against your curls. “And then, once we’re all giggly and buzzed, I’ll convince you to let me make love to you in front of the fireplace. We can even set up a booby trap so that we pretend like the children don’t exist.”

“Wow.” You can’t stop the giggle that bubbles its way past your lps. “Andy Bear, that sounds amazing. But I’m afraid I can’t.”

“Why the fuck not?” He rumbles as his brawny arms tighten around your smaller frame. You were pushing your District Attorney beyond his breaking point.

“Because.” Squirming out of his hold, you dance your way towards the oven in preparation for the big reveal. Hopefully your husband would be a good sport about all of this.

“Because?”

“Because…” You draw out the word, even as you go to open the oven to show him what’s inside. “There’s actually plenty of dinner leftover. See?” You throw your arms wide, but force yourself to stop just short of adding spirit fingers because you suspected he wouldn’t appreciate it.

“Baby, I swear…” Andy sighs, his hands slowly sinking into the pockets of his charcoal-colored slacks as he rocks back on his heels. Most likely to keep himself from strangling you, his lovely wife. “Why–what would possess you to lie about something like this?”

“First off, sweetheart, it’s called a prank.” You bridge the gap between your bodies so that you can wrap your arms around his trim waist. “And secondly, I saw it on TikTok. Ever heard of it?”

He glares down at you, which has you instinctively clenching your thighs together. That’s part of the reason you loved riling up your Big Man.

Being a brat got your motor running.

“I take it you have.” You stand on your tiptoes to kiss away his frown. “Well, I fell down the rabbit hole the other day while the kids were napping. There’s this whole, like, subsection that’s just pranks. And the latest one involved these women pranking their guys by serving them a huge plate of food, and then pretending like there’s nothing left for them to eat. The reactions were super entertaining, so I figured I’d test it out, you know? Just for fun.”

You grace him with your most dazzling smile, but unfortunately, he’s still having none of it. His frown only deepens as he tilts his face up towards the ceiling in an effort to summon all of his remaining patience.

“Are you mad?” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip while you wait for his answer.

“Yep.”

“C’mon, Andy Bear!” You pout before placing your hands on his biceps to give him a light shake.”Where’s your sense of humor?”

“Pretty sure I lost it the day you decided torturing me was your new favorite pastime.” He grumbles, although there doesn’t appear to be any heat in his words. “In fact, I have a feeling you just gave me several new grays.”

“Oh, don’t you dare blame me for those.” You tell him, playfully rolling your eyes at his dramatics. “I’ll have you know that you came home with those. I spotted ‘em the moment you walked through the door.” Your sassy response earns you a sharp crack to your ass, making you wince.

“Ow!”

“Brat.” He grouses, even as he presses a sweet kiss to your nose.

“Guilty as charged.” You hum, weaving your arms around his neck. “Besides, I had a feeling you wouldn’t let me starve.”

“Not sure it’s even possible to fail that challenge, Baby Girl. I mean, you’re my wife. My partner in crime. Did you really expect me to just let you go hungry?”

“You’d be surprised.” You mutter, making a mental note to show him a few videos featuring some of the men who’d actually failed the test. “But thankfully you didn’t. And neither did the kiddos. Which is why I will graciously allow you all to sleep inside tonight.”

You let out a tiny yelp when Andy suddenly grabs your ass with both hands, squeezing hard as he lifts you up. Unsure of what else to do, you immediately lock your legs around his waist. Right now you were just going along for the ride.

“Now is that any way to talk to Daddy?” Andy lovingly captures your mouth, lightly stroking his along the seam of your lips. “Especially after you played such a mean trick?” His once clouded blue eyes are now filled with mischief.

“Oh, I’m not sorry. But if it helps, I am willing to delete the video.” Your husband’s eyes go wide, letting you know that he hadn’t even considered the prospect of being recorded. So you keep talking, hoping to distract him. “And I still wanna get you drunk and take advantage of you after we put the children down for the night.” You run your fingers through his neatly coiffed hair, lightly scratching at his scalp with your nail.

“I don’t know if I should trust you.” He eyes you warily, making clear that he still hasn’t quite recovered from your earlier betrayal.

“What if…” You lean in close, lightly nipping at his earlobe. “I could find it in my heart to apologize between then and now? How does that sound, Big Man?”

“I mean I might be interested.” Andy shrugs, gently setting you on the counter before bracing his muscled arms on either side of you. “Out of curiosity, just what kind of apology are we talking about?” He gazes at you with lust-filled eyes, eagerly anticipating your response.

“The kind that’s best offered while on my knees, wearing nothing but a flimsy pair of thigh highs and garters.” You know you’ve got him when you hear him groan low in his throat.

“Fucky, baby.” Your husband hisses, burying his face in the valley between your breasts as his imagination suddenly kicks into overdrive. “Can you be sorry enough to wear the heels too? You know the ones I’m talking about.”

Oh. You knew exactly which ones he was talking about.

“I think so.” You murmur, stroking a tender hand along his back as he struggles to regain his composure.

“Then we’ve got ourselves a deal.” He grips your hips before kindly helping you down. “Now let’s go get those kids fed and off to bed.” Andy grabs your hand, tugging you behind him as you head back to the dining room to see about your babies.

“Slow down, Andrew.” You laugh as your legs scramble to keep up.

“No can do, Baby Girl.” He grunts, picking up his pace. “Daddy’s really looking forward to that apology. So be sure to eat up because…” He trails off when he comes face-to-face with his sauce covered little ones. “...You’re gonna need all of your strength.”

“You can count on it.”

END

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

Text

Simon “Ghost” Riley w/ a Pregnant S/O

Warnings: AFAB Reader, pregnancy, minor spoilers of Ghost’s past, mentions of abuse, minor angst and reassurance, fluff, Ghost being protective

When you first told Ghost you were pregnant, he freaked out.

Reagardless of whether you'd been actively trying for a child or not, the fact that it was actually happening solidified to Simon that he was capable of living a normal, happy life, one that he is always worrying will end in some way.

Will take him a day or two to comprehend that you're both bringing a child into the world, but when he does, he's simultaneously fried with anxiety and overjoyed.

He may not show it, having been forced into and training himself to display stoicism at any given point, but he will begin planning well in advance.

Planning for what, you may ask?

Everything.

The safest area to move to (though you'll always be safe with Simon regardless of location), the best schools you can both afford, the type of house you'll live in.

He knows he's going to have to hide his masks when the kid's born.

There are certain parts of his past he doens't want them knowing; most of it, if he's honest.

He promises to be the best father he can.

Having come from an abusive household himself, Ghost would be hesitant to even have a child to begin with, not knowing if he's capable of paternal love.

But when you reassure him that he is the only man you'd want to have a child with, Ghost allows himself to trust, something you'd taught him after a difficult life devoid of trusting others.

He definitely puts his hands over your stomach whenever you're alone.

Looks at your growing bump with all the love in the universe.

It scares him how much love he feels for you and his child.

Never leaves you alone.

With you 24/7.

He's granted early paternal leave by his employers since he's seen as a liability for now.

He knows he wouldn't be able to concentrate entirely on his job, wondering if you're okay.

Tries convincing you to stay inside all the time.

Doesn't want anyone else except close family and friends seeing you.

Doesn't trust anyone to take care of you properly.

Does all the shopping.

Domestic Ghost.

One day when he's doing the laundry, you pick up one of his masks from the laundry basket; one he'd left in his bag weeks ago and forgotten to wash.

"I think you look so handsome in this," you said, leaning against the doorway.

Ghost scoffed. "That supposed to be an insult?"

"Not at all, my love," you said, coming up behind him and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Doubt the kid'll see the good in it like you do," His voice was gruff. He was thinking of something, and you could guess what.

"This," you said, holding up the mask, "is nothing to be ashamed of."

Ghost turned, looked at you, eyes doubtful.

"Then what is it, (Y/N)?" He stood to his full height, blocking out anything that wasn't him.

"It's who you were," you say, carefully. You put the mask back into the basket and place your hands on both of Ghost's shoulders.

"It's proof that you are enough and capable and worthy of having a family," you smiled at him. "This family."

Let's just say that Ghost definitely showed you his appreciation after your pep talk.

Is a very good cook, though only when it comes to simple, nutrition-packed meals.

Goes out and gets you whatever you're craving at that time.

Thinks you are the most beautiful person in the world.

You just have a glow about you when you're pregnant.

Gets extremely territorial.

More so than usual.

Is reluctant to let his associates know about your existence, nevermind that you’re pregnant.

When they meet you, however, he can see that you’ll have an unbreakable support system for life.

They all love you, all offering something of their skill set for your child like the fairies in Sleeping Beauty.

“This child’s got so many uncles,” you said to Ghost after they’d all left, folding some clothes and putting them into the drawer.

“Hm. And not one of them competent.”

You threw a balled-up pair of socks at Ghost, smiling playfully.

“Oi! They’re competent enough to be working with you.”

“Weeding out terrorists and raising a child are two very different things.”

You chuckled. “I cannot argue with that.”

A minute of silence passed. Then:

“You’ll always be safe with us, (Y/N).”

You turned and walked towards Ghost, coming to stand at his side. You took his hand in yours, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckle.

“I know, Love. I know.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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#Simon ghost riley #Simon riley #Simon riley x reader #Simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #mw2 x reader #mw2 fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic #cod ghost #ghost cod #cod ghost x reader

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alwaysmicado · 7 months

Text

You wanted this

3.1k | 18+ MDNI | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 1

When he gives you this look, you know you're fucked - literally.

Warnings: no outbreak au, implied age gap, alcohol, smut: piv sex, rough oral m and f receiving, rimming, choking, D/s dynamic, creampie, pet names, degradation/praise Summary: Joel and you have a fun dynamic going. You provoke him, he punishes you - you both get off. When you meet him after you’ve fucked someone else, he decides to show you who you belong to. It’s all fun and games, right? A/N: Please read the warnings before you continue! You're about to read unadulterated filth. We're headed straight for Whoreville™️ and there's no getting off early (wink wink). We'll see more of these two for sure... Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 🖤 pt. 2 / series masterlist / AO3

“You look hot,” you purr into Joel’s ear, “expecting someone special?” He chuckles and turns to look at you.

“I actually was,” he smirks, “but she was too busy flirting with some random guy over there, so now I’m just entertaining myself with a drink.”

He taps the glass and studies your face. You look especially stunning tonight, your skin is glowing and your smile is illuminating the dimly lit bar.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it flirting,” you coo, playing with the straw of your cocktail. Joel raises an eyebrow in amusement.

“Is that right? What else would you call it, darlin’?”

“Trying to explain to him why I left him alone in bed a few days ago and never returned his calls,” you answer while maintaining eye contact.

“Hmm, and why did you?” Joel asks, taking another sip of his drink.

You scoff and shake your head. “None of your business, Miller.” He gives you a knowing smile and nods.

“It’s a shame though,” his deep sultry voice makes you shiver, “I know how nice it is to wake up next to you.” He puts his hand on your knee, causing your skin to heat up and a familiar ache to grow between your legs.

“You’ve only ever done it once because I was too drunk to go home, so how would you know, hm?” you purr, leaning in to be closer to him.

“So feisty today,” he starts caressing your thigh gently, brushing the hem of your mini dress, “I’m assuming you’re frustrated because you haven’t been fucked right?”

You chuckle and down the rest of your drink. “I dunno, Joel. What would you call not being able to walk for the past three days because he fucked me for hours on end? I’m sure you could still see bite marks on my thighs if you looked closely,” you smirk and open your legs for him to see you’re not wearing any panties.

Joel’s grip on your thigh tightens, his eyes completely black now. “You wanna act like a whore, baby?” he growls and grips your hip with his other hand, “You know I got no problem treating you like one.”

He starts kissing your neck with his warm wet lips, mumbling into your skin how he’s going to enjoy putting you in your place. You’re legs are trembling and you’re moaning softly into his ear.

He loves seeing you like this - squirming under his touch, pupils blown, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. All because of him.

“Get up,” he orders, “we’re going.”

---

“Last chance, darlin',” Joel growls, “I ain't gonna be gentle, so get the fuck out now if you can't take it.” Oh, now he did it. He's playing you like a fiddle and you both know it.

“Do your worst, old man,” you bite back, raising an eyebrow at him.

“You’re gonna regret that, sweetheart.” He glowers at you, the darkness in his eyes setting all of your nerves on fire.

He closes the distance between you two in a few strides and towers over you menacingly. You can feel the heat radiating off his body and smell the irresistible scent that is so uniquely him. The ache between your legs is becoming unbearable.

Joel leans in, his left hand pulling you close by your waist, his right hand grabbing the back of your neck, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you forget you ever even met that asshole. You understand?” “Yes, sir,” you nod, wetness seeping out of your pussy. You fucking love it when he gets like this.

Joel’s eyes carefully search yours and when he’s satisfied with what he finds, he immediately pulls you close to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss. He’s greedily sucking and biting at your lips, tangling one hand in your hair and squeezing your ass with the other, wanting to devour you - make you his.

You’re just as eager to give him what he wants, completely pliant under his touch, moaning into his mouth and rubbing yourself on his thigh.

“Fuck,” Joel pants, breaking the kiss and tracing your swollen bottom lip with his thumb.

He looks into your glazed over eyes, mesmerized by the fact that such a stunning creature is submitting to him so willingly. He palms himself over his pants, his cock painfully hard and in desperate need of relief.

“On your knees, baby. Hands on your thighs,” he commands, his gaze never leaving yours while you lower yourself on the floor. “Good girl,” he praises, unzipping his pants and pulling them down together with his boxer briefs just enough to free his heavy cock and balls.

You gasp at the sight, never really getting used to his sheer size, despite having taken him before. You bite your lip and press your thighs together to relieve at least some of the burning ache in your core.

“God, you’re beautiful when you’re desperate for my cock,” Joel murmurs, tilting your chin up and pressing down on your tongue with his thumb, “my beautiful girl. Now, you’re gonna take what I give you, darlin’. I’m not gonna stop, so don’t even try your whining. The only thing I wanna hear is you gagging on my cock, got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

Joel positions himself in front of your mouth and taps your lips with the tip of his cock. “Open up, baby, stick your tongue out.” You do just that and Joel hums approvingly.

Holding the base with his right hand, he slides his cock into your warm wet mouth in one single thrust until he’s hitting the back of your throat. “Fuuuck, that’s it, baby,” Joel groans, “I’ve missed your perfect mouth so much.”

You gag and sputter, trying to move your head to relax your throat for a second, but Joel is faster than you, gripping the back of your head with both of his hands, effectively holding you in place.

“Nuh-uh, princess,” he tuts mockingly, “where do you think you’re going, huh?” Your eyes are watering and you feel like you’re choking, but Joel just smirks at you. “Eyes on me, sweetheart. I want you to look at me while I’m fucking your pretty face,” and with that he sets a punishing pace, bucking his hips into your mouth over and over again.

You're gorgeous - on your knees, reduced to a crying, drooling mess over his cock. Joel's clenching his teeth, every muscle in his body strained while forcing you to take his length.

“You’re doing so well, baby. So perfect for me,” he groans, sending shivers down your spine. Your clit is throbbing and you can feel yourself growing wetter with every second.

When one of Joel’s thrusts hits particularly deep, you instinctively brace your hands against his thighs, trying to push him away. He just laughs at you, tightening his grip on your neck.

“Poor baby,” he scoffs, “not used to my big cock anymore? Why fuck that loser if he doesn’t even do it right, hm?” Your cheeks are burning and you shove at his legs again. “Keep doing that,” Joel chuckles, “you look so cute when you try to fight me.”

He thrusts his hips a few more times before pulling out with a strangled groan and releasing your head. “Don’t wanna come yet,” he mumbles. You’re immediately gasping for air, chest heaving, tears still spilling down from your now closed eyes. Joel scoops up the thick string of saliva that connects his cock with your lips and spreads it on your cheeks. His soft touch doesn’t match the filthy action.

He crouches down so he’s on your level and tilts your head up gently. “Hey, look at me,” he scans your face, “you okay?” Your eyes meet his concerned gaze. “Yeah, yeah. Just needed a second to breathe,” you reassure him.

He looks at you intently for a moment longer before getting up and motioning to the bed. “Take your clothes and shoes off and lie on your back.”

You get up and pull your dress over your head, take off your heels and sway your hips on your way to Joel’s bed. It smells like him and you hate that you can’t stay and fall asleep here. Pull him close at night, savor his warmth, marvel at his precious sleepy face in the morning.

As soon as you’re lying in the middle of the bed, your head propped up on Joel’s pillows, he walks towards you. “Spread your pretty legs for me, darlin’. I wanna see how wet you got choking on my cock.”

You slowly open your legs while keeping eye contact. Joel sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of your puffy and glistening cunt. He unbuttons his shirt hastily, letting it fall to the floor. “Touch your clit, baby,” he pants, unlacing his shoes and keeping his eyes on you.

You obey and start circling your neglected bundle of nerves with two fingers. A desperate moan escapes your lips as you’re finally able to get some relief. Joel takes off his shoes and pants, staring at you for a second before climbing on the bed and stopping between your legs.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so beautiful.” He slowly traces your legs with his fingertips, enjoying how you writhe under his touch. When he stops just at the apex of your thighs, you whine desperately, only for him to do it again.

“Please touch me, Joel, please,” you whimper, unable to keep your composure anymore. He sits back on his heels and keeps caressing your thighs while you’re continuously drawing circles on your clit.

“D’you fuck him raw?” he asks, grabbing your wrist to halt your movement.

You gaze into his dark eyes and shake your head, “No.” He nods and starts peppering your thighs with kisses, gripping your hips with his calloused hands.

“Good,” he murmurs, nipping and biting at your soft skin, “‘cause I’m not wearing a goddamn condom with you. Gonna pump you so full of my cum you’ll be leaking me until I fill you up again.” You whimper at the prospect of feeling Joel’s warm cum deep inside you again and try to shift your hips, so he’ll finally touch you where you most need him.

“Mmm, yeah baby, I like the thought of that, too,” he smirks, his face now hovering right above your wet cunt, “but I really wanna taste you first.” He starts by spreading your lips with his hands, opening you up for him to look at you fully exposed.

“Fuck me, sweetheart,” he groans, “you have the cutest little pussy I’ve ever seen.” He draws the hood of your clit back with his right thumb, keeping your lips spread with his left middle and index finger. You mewl at the sensation, spurring him on to finally latch his lips onto your yearning clit, sucking eagerly before licking a broad stripe from your asshole up to your wet slit.

“Oh fuuuck!” you cry out, clawing at the sheets when he repeats the motion with his tongue, now also circling your clit with his thumb. “Mmm, you taste divine, darlin’.” He slides two fingers inside your warm cunt, pumping them in and out of you steadily. The squelching sounds from your pussy mixed with the sound of your breathy moans are making Joel dizzy.

Right when he feels your walls starting to clamp down around his fingers, he stops his movements. “Turn around for me, baby. Ass up face down,” he orders, sitting back on his heels to watch you get into position.

“Good girl,” he purrs, “being so good for me, doing everything I say”. He caresses your ass cheeks and the backs of your thighs before dragging his nose through your wet folds, inhaling your intoxicating scent. Your whole body shivers at the sensation.

Joel starts sucking on your clit again while fucking you with two of his thick fingers. You clench around him, the way he’s rhythmically pumping his fingers in and out of you almost enough to send you over the edge right then.

“Fuck, baby, so sensitive today,” Joel teases, licking from your clit up to your asshole. He starts lapping at the tight ring eagerly, reducing you to a whimpering, trembling mess when he dips his tongue inside of you repeatedly. “Mmm, I love the pretty little sounds you make for me,” he groans, wiping his mouth and chin with his forearm.

He spreads your cheeks and looks at your exposed holes in awe. You look absolutely delicious and Joel wants nothing more than to bury himself as deep inside you as possible. He laps your juices up thirstily, the vibrations from his moans sending shockwaves through your whole body. His throbbing cock is leaking precum, screaming for attention.

“I need to fuck you, baby” Joel hisses, manhandling you onto your back. He’s on you in an instant, kissing you hungrily, his hand tangling in your hair. You squirm underneath him, tilting your pelvis to gain some friction. “Please, Joel, please fuck me.”

He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he finally aligns his tip with your core and pushes his cock into your wet hole in one quick thrust.

You gasp at the intense sensation of him splitting you open, not allowing you any time to adjust to his size. “Oh fuck, baby, your cunt is gripping me so hard I can barely move,” Joel moans breathlessly, rolling his hips to pump his cock inside of you again and again.

His pelvis puts delicious pressure on your swollen clit and you start to push against his thrusts to chase your high. Joel grabs your legs and puts them over his shoulders, kissing and biting your calves until you scream. The new angle allows him to hit a spot deep inside you that has you quivering and shaking, bringing you closer to your orgasm with each powerful thrust of his hips.

“Oh fuck, Joel, you feel so fucking good,” you moan, throwing your head back and curling your toes. He grins, reaching around your legs to grab your soft tits with his hands. He massages them roughly, tweaking your nipples until you cry out in pain. “You’re so perfect for me,” Joel pants, mesmerized by the way your body moves under him, “my perfect little slut.”

Your cunt involuntarily clenches around him and you can’t hold back the needy moan that escapes your lips.

“Oh, the princess likes that, huh” Joel teases, “likes when I call her my little slut?” You furrow your brow and nod at him. “Mmm I like it, too,” he groans while continuing to snap his hips at an unrelenting pace, “always want you to be my slut. Mine.”

You can feel your orgasm approaching fast, the combination of Joel’s cock and possessiveness hitting all the right spots in your cunt and mind.

“Fuck, baby, your pussy’s choking the fuck outta me,” he chortles, burying his face in the crook of your neck, sucking and biting at the delicate skin. You cry out from the overwhelming mix of sensations and Joel answers you by putting his hand around your neck, expertly shutting you up without cutting off your air supply.

“Stop being a brat if you can’t take the consequences, baby,” Joel murmurs, his face hovering above yours, an amused smile playing on his lips. You glare at him, but he quickly disarms you by leaning down and kissing you passionately. You wrap your legs around his waist and dig your nails into his back. Your skin is on fire and you have zero control left over your body. It’s all his.

He puts your left leg over his shoulder again, splitting you open even more. The volume of your desperate moans increases as Joel keeps fucking your pussy with abandon.

“Fuck, that the spot baby?” he pants. “Yeah,” you whimper, “please don’t stop.” “Look at me,” he grabs the side of your neck and rubs your cheek with his thumb, “tell me your mine.” He looks at you with wild eyes, sweat glistening on his skin.

“Yes, Joel, fuck I- I’m yours. Fuck, keep going,” you whine, the tension in your core so close to snapping. “I got you, baby. Let go for me, I wanna feel you,” Joel encourages you, chasing his own high deep inside you.

“Oooh, Joel, I’m gonna come,” you sob as your walls spasm and contract around his cock, shockwaves of pleasure gripping your whole body and blurring your vision. You’re convulsing in ecstasy, not knowing where your body ends and Joel’s begins.

In this moment right now, you’re one.

“F-Fuck!” Joel comes so hard his final thrust pushes your body up the bed. He spills himself deep inside you, your pulsing pussy milking every last drop of his cum. He collapses onto you with a strangled groan, panting heavily.

“Fuck, darlin’, you tryna kill me or something?” You giggle and start drawing shapes on his back with your fingers. Joel kisses your neck and hums contentedly, making sure his cock stays buried inside of you for as long as possible.

---

“Are you gonna be good from now on, hm?” He nudges your cheek with his nose. You turn to face him and look into his eyes.

“No, sir.”

He chuckles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Good girl.”

You press a soft kiss on his lips before turning around and getting up. You put your dress and heels back on and walk over to the bathroom.

“You don’t need to leave, you know,” you hear Joel say from behind you. You sigh and flick the light on.

“I can’t stay, Joel.” You look into the bathroom mirror and quickly comb through your hair with your fingers. Your makeup is smudged, but it’s dark out so you don’t care.

“We could order from that Indian place you like and watch Heat again. Besides, it’s getting late,” he murmurs, looking at you with his big puppy eyes.

You smile at him, but don’t answer. He nods and gets up from the bed to lead you to the front door.

“Okay, sweetheart. But text me when you get home, alright?”

“I will.”

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“See you around, darlin’.”

---

next part || series masterlist ||Joel masterlist

#fwb!joel miller x f!reader #fwb!joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller tlou #the last of us #the last of us au #joel miller au #fanfic #tlou hbo #dark hair and sad eyes #pedro pascal characters #joel tlou #dom!joel miller #joel miller smut

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eufezco · 4 months

Text

HEART TO HEART — FINNICK ODAIR x FEM!READER

Synopsis — It's hard to get your life back on track when the Capitol has gotten inside your head but Finnick is there to help you. You were enjoying a party in District 13 when you discovered something that triggered you.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ And I break down, then he's pulling me in. In a world of boys, he's a gentleman ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Finnick looked at Katniss and considered himself a lucky man.

Although both of them had managed to get back the loves of their lives, their situations now were quite different from what they were used to. Finnick now looked at Peeta and realized how the Capitol had completely destroyed the friend he made in the games, making him incapable of telling the difference between what was real and what the Capitol put in his head. Finnick saw the sadness grow in Katniss' eyes as she and Peeta couldn't spend more than five minutes together without him wanting to jump on her neck.

You, on the other hand, had your moments of lucidity.

Finnick considered himself lucky for being able to enjoy the person you were before the Capitol took you, but the longer those moments lasted, the worse your breakdowns were.

Even though he considered himself luckier than Katniss, it wasn't being easy for him either. He hated to see you fighting the medical team from District 13 while they were trying to inject you with a sedative and the way he had to hold you so they could do it. He hated to see you with your hands and legs tied to the bed as you tried to free yourself from the straps that held you to the mattress. He hated to see your eyes red with rage, the way you flinched when someone made an unexpected move next to you, and how you could not help but be alert to everything that was going on around you.

But Finnick also appreciated when he saw you smile, or talking to someone who wasn't him, or seeing that you had changed your clothes that day or enjoying your meal in the dining room. The way your eyelashes fluttered when he spoke to you like he was the most magnificent thing you had ever seen, how you were always looking to have some sort of physical contact with him whether it was sitting too close at the table or something more subtle like seeking for his hand in the crowd as you listened to the words that Alma Coin pronounced.

The Capitol caused irreparable damage but they had not been able to take everything from you.

―Let's give a huge round of applause to Sarah and Mike from District 11!

The two siblings had been singing since dinner was over along with their band. The lights in the dining room were dimmer, not the cold white ones that gave you a headache every time you went inside. They had set up a small stage and some decorations on the ceiling. Alma Coin knew that Christmas was close and wanted to do something special to raise people's spirits, and it seemed to be working because after dinner, people had stayed to listen to the siblings sing, and some had even encouraged to go out and dance.

―We still have time for a couple more songs, any requests? ―The boy spoke into the microphone, looking at the audience.

It was your hand that rose.

Finnick and Katniss who were sitting at the table with you looked at each other. You got up from the table and walked to the stage, well, you didn't feel your feet moving on the floor, it was more like you were floating. You were enjoying the little concert so much that you had managed to remember all the lyrics of the songs that they had performed when just a few days ago you couldn't even remember your name, your feet moved under the table following the rhythm of the instruments and you even hummed some of the words.

Both siblings approached the edge of the stage and bent down to listen to the title of the song you were asking for. They looked at each other, satisfied, and more than approving your request. You went back to your seat at the table, happy, and before Katniss and Finnick could ask about the song, the little girl called your name through the microphone.

―Why don't you come and sing with us? ―She asked you in her sweet voice. All the people in the dining room were waiting for your answer, some you knew were encouraging you to come up like Haymitch and Effie, and others you knew were judging you just by the way their eyes were on you like Gale, but you didn't care because since your return you had never wanted anything so much as to get on that stage with those two kids.

Finnick held your hand, his eyebrows drawn together. ―Are you sure?

You nodded and showed him a little smile, reassuring him.

They welcomed you with smiles and sweet gestures to show you where to stand. They had placed a microphone in the middle of the two siblings for you.

―May I? ―You asked for the guitar the young girl was holding. She showed you a smile and gave it to you. The guitar felt out of place in your hands, as if it was a stranger and it was the first time you were meeting each other. That was not the truth, the truth was that you had been playing the guitar for as long as you could remember. You liked to play it for the children at District 4 while they sat around the campfire in the sand accompanied by Finnick and they sang with you. But now it all seemed so far away and the instrument felt odd in between your fingers.

You coughed to clear your throat without realizing that you did it right into the microphone. Finnick smiled at how innocent that had been and you smiled embarrassed. ―Sorry.

The two siblings from District 11 were looking at you with their big eyes and with smiles of comfort on their faces, waiting for you to start singing but all those people staring at you was all you could think about. You couldn't remember how the lyrics started.

Finnick nodded at you from the audience.

Can't take my past Can't take my history

The little girl sang for you. There was a friendly expression on her face. Her eyebrows were raised as she was singing the beginning of the song and she nodded as she looked at you, trusting that you knew the words and helping you with her kind gesture to find them.

You could take my pa But his name's a mystery

Her brother continued singing. A similar expression was on his face. Apart from your friends and Finnick, you had trouble finding people who trusted you in District 13. You didn't blame them because even you found it hard to trust yourself.

Nothing you can take from me Was ever worth keeping Nothing you can take Was ever worth keeping

Your voice didn't sound as you expected, it was still the same sweet voice as always. You expected to have completely destroyed it after all the screaming you did at the Capitol, but no, your voice was still there, just as Finnick remembered it. He was trying very hard not to burst into tears because he knew you were watching him.

The band played the song perfectly on their instruments while you tried to follow them on the guitar and more people listening to the lively rhythm of the song came out and danced in the center of the dining room.

Can't take my charm Can't take my humor You can't take my wealth 'Cause it's just a rumor Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

Those lines you were singing meant so much, it was like pulling the middle finger to the Capitol. He had never seen you so happy since before the Quarter Quell. There was a smile on your lips while you sang, your body moved to the rhythm of the son, your hands moved skilfully on the guitar, and the boy and the girl from District 11 danced on the stage around you.

―Come on. ―Katniss stood and Finnick looked up at her with his green eyes glassy thanks to the tears.

―Come on where? ―Finnick asked.

―We're gonna dance.

Katniss took his hands and dragged him to the dance floor.

Thinking you're so fine, thinking you can have mine Thinking you're in control Thinking you'll change me, maybe rearrange me Think again, if that's your goal

You laughed into the microphone watching them and you handed the little girl her guitar back. You came down from the stage to join them. Katniss stepped back when she saw you coming and you followed Finnick's movements. He had always been a very good dancer so you let him lead you. You twirled around, laughing, until you were so dizzy that you had to wrap your arms around Finnick's neck, your fingers digging into his hair while his arms went around your waist.

―You were amazing. ―He told you, speaking a little louder so that you could hear him over the music. You hugged him again.

―I love you so much.

Finnick cupped both of your cheeks and kissed you. ―I love you too. ―He said before the group of little girls pulled you by the arm so you'd dance with them.

He kept dancing or something like that with Katniss but with his eyes fixed on you. The girls were being so nice; two of them held your hands while the other two were dancing on their own. Their hairs were tied up in braids and they even asked you if they could braid yours later.

But all of a sudden, you let go of their hands and took a few steps backward, bumping into the people dancing. The girls looked at you worried, had they done something wrong? ―No, no, no. ―You mumbled to yourself.

Finnick stopped and approached you quickly, pushing people out of his way when he saw the change in your mood. He took your face in between his hands, looking for your eyes but they were focused on something that wasn't him. You pushed him once his hands cupped your cheeks, only making eye contact with him for a few seconds and then going back to focus on something else.

When Finnick decided to follow your gaze, he felt a wave of heat form in his lower body and rise to his head. Cressida was behind Castor, directing how the shots of you dancing with the girls should look like. By that time you already left the room.

You tried to record a propo a few days after your arrival in District 13. Heavensbee, but especially Coin, were very insistent that you should do it. They said that your rescue and your dedication to the revolution would bring hope to the people resisting in the districts. You weren't too sure about it, much less Finnick and Katniss, who could see how bad was your state to be exposed to something like that.

You were still in a daze, confused with everything that was going on, and very weak physically when you stood in front of the camera in the ruins of District 13 covered with white roses. The smell of the flowers made you fall to your knees in the debris before Finnick could catch you and throw up everything you had eaten since you were taken out of the Capitol.

―I'm okay, I can do this. ―You said, wiping your mouth with the cuff of your uniform, but it was not true and you found out that when you got in front of the camera. Castor pointed the lens at you while Cressida repeated behind him what you were supposed to say. The spotlights were on you and also were the eyes of the president herself, who had come to the surface to see you film the propo, and suddenly you were back at the Capitol, sitting in front of Caesar Flickerman, drugged to the point where you could not remember your name just the words they'd been repeating for you to say during the interview. Your outfit was tight, your face was covered with powder and make-up so that the bruises would not be visible.

―Don't make me regret rescuing you. ―Alma Coin said to you with a smile on her face before the propo. Something similar to what he told you when the Capitol took you out of the arena.

―Don't make me regret not killing you.

After that day, only one type of images of you was broadcast for the rest of the districts to see and they were of you living your life in District 13, recording you when you didn't notice and taking advantage of the moments when you were doing well to show it to the rest of the nation and obviously, without your consent.

Finnick was not happy with that decision and he made sure to make it clear at the meeting at which it was discussed, shouting, running his hands over his face, offering himself to do all the propos they wanted. He was desperate to get them to let you recover in peace.

Katniss agreed with Finnick. She did not like the idea of turning you into a product to fool people into thinking that everything was fine, much less without having your approval. Haymitch and Effie were silent but neither did they agree with what Alma Coin wanted to do with you and Beetee suggested other options but nothing was as valuable to Alma as your image.

The only ones who openly agreed with Heavensbee and Coin were Cressida and Gale. She said that it would be good for the spirit of rebellion and that they would do it so discreetly that you would never know. On the other hand, it seemed like Gale had a lot to say even though he didn't know you at all, and because of that, he ended up in the infirmary that afternoon after he replied to Finnick's complaints by saying:

―There are times when we have to do things we don't want to do, you should know that better than anyone else.

And Finnick couldn't help himself and get up from his seat and before Gale could finish speaking Finnick's fist was already against his cheekbone. That same hand with which Finnick hit Katniss' friend was now smacking Castor's camera into the floor, a gasp could be heard from the people who had stopped dancing to see what was happening. Finnick pointed at Cressida with his index finger, threateningly.

―I warned you to keep that shit away from her.

Katniss was fast to intervene, stepping in between Finnick and the woman. She looked at Cressida with pure rage but knew she couldn't do anything with all those people watching ―Go find her.

Finnick approached the girls you had been dancing with. He knelt by their side. ―Did you see where she went? ―He asked kindly to them, perfectly hiding his nervousness. One of them pointed at one of the doors and he immediately knew where you were. He flashed a smiled to her as a thank you.

―Have we done something wrong? ―She played with her hands.

―No, she was having lots of fun with you. ―Finnick caressed the hair at the top of the little girl's head and stood on his feet.

―When you find her, please tell her we still want to braid her hair.

You were sitting on the floor, holding your legs close to your chest. You had already hidden in that place several times before. It was Katniss who found the first time because it was the same place where she would hide right after she was rescued.

You moved back and forth, mumbling words that Finnick could not decipher, and with your head down, your forehead resting on your arms. When you heard Finnick's footsteps getting closer, you tried to escape him, crawling backward and watching as he quickly approached so that you couldn't get too far away. He fell to his knees in front of you, grabbing your cheeks again to make you look at him.

―It's me. It's Finnick.

You analysed his face, your eyes moving fast across his face looking for any friendly features on that face but all you could see was the face of a traitor. Your lips trembled as they continued to mumble I don't think I can forgive him for what he's doing, Caesar. I didn't know Finnick Odair was like that, I didn't know he would join the rebellion. What you do in the games is one thing but what you do outside the arena is what defines you.

―You're safe. We're in District 13, you're not there anymore.

You're right, Caesar. He has tricked me into thinking he was someone he is not. I thank president Snow everyday for helping me realize.

―You're from District 4. We live together. Our house is near to the beach. You won the 72th Hunger Games. We went back to the arena for the Quarter Quell. The Capitol took you. I'm Finnick Odair. I was your mentor along with Max.

If he were watching this I would tell him to think for himself. It's not too late to start doing things right and stop this war, and if he is unrepentant and this has always been his true self, Caesar, I think I may have never lov...

―You're here with us and we will protect you. Katniss is here at District 13 and so are Johanna and Peeta.

...I think I may have never lo...

―You're okay, baby.

...I may have never...

You hugged Finnick tightly against you, your eyes wide open and your hands shaking from the strength you were putting into holding him to be able to feel he was real. ―I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know what's going on. I feel like I'm losing my mind. ―You cried.

Finnick shook his head while he held you almost as strongly as you held him. He kept whispering sweet words until he felt how your body began to relax. Finnick carefully pulled you away from him so he could use his thumbs to wipe away the tears running down your cheeks. ―It's fine, I'm here with you. It's not your fault, they've done horrible things to you but you're with me now, you're safe. They will have to go over my dead body to get their hands on you again.

He helped you to move so that you were sitting on his lap, with your head resting on his chest and his arms around your body. When some time passed and you calmed down, he could see it in the way your body had stopped shaking and also because you had stopped sobbing a while ago but you didn't want to separate from him, Finnick decided to try to cheer you up.

―Do you know who told me where you went?

You shook your head, really curious.

―Those new friends you made on the dance floor.

You pressed your lips into a smile, you were having so much fun with those little girls...―They were so cute, I must have scared them.

Finnick shook his head and kissed your temple. ―Not at all. They told me they'll wait for you. They said they wanted to braid your hair.

Now you really smiled, snuggling into his chest.

―Do you want me to take you to our room?

You shook your head, making yourself comfortable in Finnick's lap. It was not the most comfortable or welcoming place to be but he didn't want to rush you to leave. He was aware that they would be looking for you two, they would take you away from him and lock you in a room next to Peeta's, thinking that you were a menace and putting you in a place where the screams of the boy next door would drive you crazy.

―We can stay here for as long as you want then.

You hummed in response, closing your eyes and focusing on Finnick holding you in between his arms. Thanks to your head on his chest and the silence, you could hear Finnick's heart and you were relieved because it was the realest thing you had ever experienced. Its beats were peaceful but still managed to quiet all the noise in your head.

You were so immersed in Finnick's heartbeat you would swear yours was beating so hard against your chest because it wanted to escape your body so it could be closer to his.

#finnick odair #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair smut #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick imagine #finnick odair imagine #the hunger games #the hunger games imagine #thg #thg finnick #thg imagine #tbosas #thg angst #thg fluff #finnick #sam claflin

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bwabys-scenarios · 7 months

Note

please please please PLEASE write a nanami fic (jjk)

nanami is at his desk doing some paperwork and the reader is just so needy, so she starts dry humping his thigh

you can take it as far as you’d like >:3

- :3

Needy Wife

Nanami x Fem!Reader

warning: dry humping, creampie

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

A/N: requests open, but I prefer HXH requests. If you’re going to request JJK, please make it interesting/detailed or give me a good prompt!

taglist: @desiray562

if you would like to be added to the NSFW taglist, comment a ❤️!! make sure you have your AGE in your bio, and that you’re able to be tagged/mentioned!

It was another long day for Nanami, the man having to do paperwork even after coming home from his job. His cute wife, you, had been hoping for some fun and quality time spent with your husband, but were thoroughly disappointed when all you got was a hasty kiss on the cheek after his arrival.

“Sorry, darling, I have more work to do. Call me when dinner is ready.”

Nanami brushed last you, entering his office and closing the door behind him. It was enough to leave you standing there, a pout forming on your face.

You’d put on a nice set of lingerie under your dress, hoping to surprise him after work, but now he was shut away in his office.

For the first 30 minutes, you attempted to busy yourself with cooking dinner, but after everything was put in the oven and the timer was set, you now had nothing else to distract you from the warmth pooling between your legs.

Before you could stop yourself, you snuck towards Nanami’s office, trying to ignore how wet you were getting just by thinking about what you were about to do.

“Nanami? Can I come in?”

You ask as you knock on the door. Nanami grunts before answering. “The doors open, angel.”

You smile, opening the door to see your husband sitting at his desk, rubbing his temple as he looked over paper after paper, occasionally picking up his pen to write something down.

“Is there something you need, (Name)?”

You squirm in your spot, watching as he sets his pen down to look at you. He raises an eyebrow at your expression, leaning back in his chair slightly.

“Can I… sit with you? I missed you today…”

He looked at you for a few seconds, seeming to contemplate your question before giving you a quick nod. “Come on.”

You scurried over to him, happily climbing into his lap, one of his large thighs between your legs. For a few minutes, you stayed still, waiting for him to relax before you slowly started to grind against his thigh.

The man instantly stopped what he was doing, his hand moving to grip your hip. “(Name)? What do you think you’re doing?”

You could tell by the strength of his grip that you’d surprised him, so you whine a little, trying to buck your hips against him. “You’ve been so busy lately, so I wanted to…”

He sighs, removing his hand and instead wrapping it around your waist so you could continue your movements. “… my apologies, carry on.”

Despite his calm and collected tone, you could see the bulge already beginning to form in his pants as you began to move again, soft whimpers and moans escaping your lips. “Mmph, Kento…”

He stopped writing again at the sound of you moaning out his name, using his free hand to slip into your panties, rubbing at your clit. “I’ve been neglecting my lovely wife, haven’t I? Give me 10 more minutes and I’ll be all yours for the night.”

He removed his hand from your pussy, tapping them against your lips to signal you to open your mouth. As you continued to grind against him, you sucked on his wet digits, tasting yourself.

As you got closer to your climax, you began to move faster, panting and whining. “K-Kento, gonna-“

Before you could even think, you were being bent over his desk, your new panties being ripped off and Nanami’s fat cock being shoved into you.

He fucked you through your orgasm, a hand pressed firmly against the small of your back as he pounded into you.

“My poor wife, so needy and spoiled. Is this what you wanted?”

He took the rest of the night off to show you just how much he loves you, giving you creampie after creampie for each day you went without his love and appreciation.

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lucky-bucky-boy · 1 year

Text

Restless Night

Pairing: MCU!Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: An impulsive phone call leads to a happy ending

Word Count: 1307

Warnings: Slight angst, smut, pet names, little to no (y/n), mentions of missions, lemme know if i missed anything

A/N: MCU!Peter - I do plan to write something for TASM!Peter in the future but this was just easier for my brain to set up the scene. I wanted to do something different and challenged myself to write something that was more dialogue-heavy than I’ve written in a while. Not my best work, but a little smutty smut bc why not

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed and highly appreciated!

The soft sound of the television playing a forgotten movie almost drowned out the sound of the phone ringing, tucked under a pillow and muffled. The sweet cusp of sleep was only moments away, being dragged out by the vibrating as the first call ended and a second came through.

The near unconsciousness caused forethought to be left behind, grabbing the phone, answering the call, and putting it to your ear. A soft "hello?" was all you could muster.

"Hey, baby."

A tsunami of emotions flooded through your body, suddenly wide awake and hyper aware of everything that was going on; The television was nearing the end of the movie you had put on, your clock reading 1:32, the lights from the cars passing by casting various dancing shadows around your room.

"I've missed you, baby."

His voice was sweet, almost addictive and something you hadn't realized was a need buried deep inside you. You shuffled, forcing yourself up and sitting against the squishmallow he'd won for you on your first time, something you hadn't been able to get rid of.

"Hi, Peter," you voice was quiet, sleep still etched between the syllables. There was a beat of silence between the two of you, "Peter, why'd you call? It's been 10 months."

Peter let out a soft sigh, you could hear him shuffling around. "Missing you really bad tonight, love. M' on a mission," there was another sigh, "I almost got hurt, like really hurt. Thankfully Bucky was there. All I could think about was you."

"Peter!" You voice was now much louder, instantly filled with worry, "Don't go and get yourself ki-"

He cut you off, "I wasn't tryna get hurt, baby. We got ambushed. We had just went in there for me to copy some information onto a drive. Ended up being some rogue Hydra agents, a leg of them we didn't even know existed." Peter was rambling and he knew it, he was starting to think the reason he called was a bad one.

You sighed, body riddled with a million different emotions, "Pete, why'd you call me?"

"I miss you," his words had a slight whine to them, "I wanna touch you so badly, wanna hold you and kiss you."

If he was there you would have undoubtedly melted into him. The breakup was mutual, but difficult nonetheless. Between trying to focus on your career and all of the responsibilities Peter had, it was near impossible to maintain a relationship - there was no time for date nights or dinner, no time to sit and reminisce and talk about the future. For months, the only time spent together was sleeping in the same bed, which was almost always disrupted by some responsibility.

You two loved each other, loved each other more than yourselves most days. But it had become too taxing and tiring, the constant worrying, near lack of support because attention was needed elsewhere. So, after a long, tearful date night gone wrong, the two of you agreed to break up, maybe try again when there were less things counting on you both.

Peter regretted it immediately, but he had wanted to give you space, give you time to flourish and not worry about him. He'd asked M.J. and Ned all the time what you had been up to, he would check your Instagram and Snapchat to see the things you were posting and proud of. He did whatever he could to support you from afar.

But tonight, tonight he dared to be selfish, he needed to be selfish. Deep down he knew it was wrong, calling you up in the middle of the night because the adrenaline was still pumping through his veins and all he wanted was to be with you.

"I miss you too, Pete." Your voice was soft again, it always was in moments like this. Where the intimacy lay just behind every fiber in your body.

He hummed, starting to get antsy as he continued to try to figure out how to say what he wanted. "Baby, can you do me a favor?"

"What is it, Pete?" You almost hated how quickly you answered, how eager you were.

"Touch yourself, sweetheart. I wanna hear you touch yourself."

The gasp that left you was audible. Peter was never incredibly bold, never the type to initiate unless you two were definitely alone. Even in those moments, it was always sweet and loving. But this, Peter calling in the middle of the night, a desperate whine to his words and an insane neediness that make his tone demanding.

“Baby, if you don’t want to, you can just hang up. I won’t be upset with you.” You could hear some ruffling and the sound of metal hitting the floor. “I just miss the pretty sounds you make, miss the way your face scrunches up, miss the feeling of your skin against mine.”

This wasn’t a command you were going to disobey. He was still rambling, your mind only half paying attention to the honey-like words he was saying. “Do you want me to use my hand or one of my toys?”

He paused for a moment and you could practically hear the smile spread across his lips. “Use your hand, sweetheart. Run you hands across your body like I would.”

You could hear the moment Peter wrapped his hand around himself, a small groan leaving his lips. You listened to him, it being nearly impossible not to. "Wish you were here, Petey," the words slipped out of you as your fingers danced across your skin, sending goosebumps in their wake.

Your eyes were pinched shut, listening to every whimper and sigh the came through your phone, doing your best to pretend your own touch was his. "Me too, God, me too. Miss kissing your skin, hearing your little gasps when I nip."

"Peter," you couldn't help but whimper, forgoing anymore teasing and quickly giving your clit the much needed attention. It never took long with Peter for you to become needy and impatient, let alone when it had been almost a year since you heard the noises he was making, "I'm not gonna last long, want you so badly," your words were gasped out between soft moans, instant pleasure radiating from your core already making your body warm.

"Me neither, baby," there was a low groan that slipped from him, strangled as he attempted to hold himself together. With every sound you made, he nearly felt like he was in a dream. But he knew this was real, his subconscious hyper aware of the thin walls in the shitty hotel he was holed up in for the night and the super soldier who undoubtedly could hear him.

A endless stream of "fuck"s, gasps, moans, and whimpers flooded through each phone. It only took a few more minutes before the coil burst and the warmth of your high shook through your body, thighs quaking and chest heaving. Peter followed suit, a breathy moan of your name as he spilled into his hand and all over his abdomen.

There was a lingering silence as the other of you recovered, both taking in what has just happened while relishing in the aftermath. Peter broke the silence first, "Need to get m'self cleaned up," he mumbled. There was another beat of silence from him, "I do really miss you."

You hummed your agreement, shifting yourself into a more comfortable position. "I do really wish you were here."

He huffed out a small laugh, a sound that was laced with relief and contentedness. "I'll be home tomorrow at 4. I still got my key, I'll bring dinner, and we can talk. How does that sound?"

Now it was your turn to laugh, excitement filling every nerve in your body. "It sounds like a date."

#smut #peter parker #peter parker smut #mcu!peter parker #mcu!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #peter smut #mcu!peter smut #spiderman x reader #spiderman smut #peter parker one shot

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ramp-it-up · 8 months

Text

Greater

Pairing: Pilot!Steve Rogers x Publicist! Reader

Word count:~3K

Summary: You let Steve know how you felt about him leaving you hanging.

This is part two to Great.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY Minors, DNI. Enemies to Lovers, and there was only one bed, angst, secrets, sexual frustration,allusion to dildos, Captain/Sir kink, praise/degradation kink, tight t-shirt and grey sweats on Steve, dirty talk, graphic sloppy oral, make receiving, face slapping. Not Beta’d. All errors are on me.

Notice: I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

DO NOT COPY, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK.

———-

Steve knew he should have avoided you when he came through the hotel lobby after his run to go back up to the room, but you eating breakfast solo on the terrace made him feel some kind of way. He watched as you gazed out over the Gulf of Genoa, feeling like a heel for leaving you in bed alone, but if he had stayed, you two would still be there.

Having you the way he did last night did not help his heart problem right now. You were taking up too much space in it, and he was afraid that the feeling wasn’t reciprocated. It couldn’t be. It was too soon for you. He’d fallen for you the moment he first saw you, and you didn’t even know when that was.

Your sister Aria, as clueless as she was, told your story: you hadn’t been with a man in a long time. Last night was just dumb luck for Steve, and physical need for you.

Being forced to stay in a space with such close quarters presented him the opportunity to get close to you, but it was disconcerting. He didn’t expect to be able to touch and kiss your most intimate places last night, but giving you pleasure was everything he’d dreamed of and more.

After putting you right to sleep, Steve felt a sense of accomplishment. But as he held you, he felt like a fraud, and soon escaped to go for a run on the beach to clear his head and calm his body.

Steve wanted nothing more than to give you more of the physical, which you clearly wanted. But what you needed was the truth. What he needed was your heart.

He looked down at his watch when he got a notification that Bucky had texted and planned to escape to the room, but when he looked back up, he was caught.

——

After you awoke in bed alone, you got out of bed and showered, frustrated. And why wouldn't you be?

Steve gave you the best head of your life last night, didn’t let you return the favor, and then ghosted you. You looked in the mirror and tried to figure out if your pussy was broken or something.

At least Jake appreciated it.

You nodded as you tried to convince yourself that a hunk of latex was sentient.

Aria texted you that she and Topher were staying in their suite today, and to reschedule the yacht ride. Your troubles were forgotten as you once again tried to move heaven and earth for your darling little superstar sister.

Aria’s change of plans, despite being a pain in the ass, was a definite plus. You could spend the day exploring this beautiful town on your own.

You sat on the terrace solo, after trying in vain to obtain another room in the sold out resort. You were torn between pettiness and being a simp for Steve Rogers. The sound of the ocean sent your mind drifting back to the night before, how good Steve’s hands and mouth felt on you. You shivered, and you felt the hair raise on the back of your neck.

You looked around, and finally, behind you, to catch Steve’s eyes, as blue as the Gulf, watching you. You gulped, and before you could stop yourself, waved him over. You saw him blanch, hesitate, but come over. You frowned.

He clearly couldn’t stand you, but you were going to set the record straight.

You weren't going to spend this whole week on pins and needles with him.

No way.

—--

Steve approached you hesitantly, squaring his shoulders to combat his nerves. He stood before you in military posture, hands behind his back. When you looked him up and down and raised your eyebrow, almost ready for anything, he couldn’t help the smile that began to form on his face.

You were trouble.

You watched Steve approach and your stomach did a somersault. Damn, he was fine. The sweat at the collar of his t-shirt, which was hanging on to his torso for dear life, was some kind of powerful magic. Your panties were about as damp. And when he stopped in front of you, perfect posture, cock so close, well, it took serious willpower to not get down on your knees in front of all these people.

You looked up at his sexy smirk. Damn him. You needed to know what was up.

“Morning, y/n. Did you sleep well?”

You crossed your legs, making his eyes follow the motion, and it was then that he gulped, fantasizing about reaching down and grabbing you up to take you back to bed.

“I slept very well, Steve, but did not wake up that way? Please, sit down. We need to talk.”

The words tumbled out before you had a chance to think, and you frowned.

Steve watched your face as he took a seat. You were not happy. And it was never a good thing when someone said that phrase. He had a feeling he knew exactly the way this conversation was going to go.

“I know what you are going to say, last night was a mistake. And I agree with you.”

“Oh?”

You exhaled as you sat back in your seat. That is not what you were going to say at all, but you were glad that Steve was coming out with what he really felt.

“We were caught up in the moment, jet lag, emotional…and I… I took advantage of that. I’m sorry.”

Steve looked up at the waiter who’d appeared and ordered water. You sipped your mimosa as you watched him, the red creeping up from his neck to his face, his cheeks flushed.

He was being genuine.

And sweet.

Being in the entertainment industry as long as you had, you learned to read people quickly.

“Taking advantage of me would entail making me suck your cock like I wanted to, Captain Rogers. Not you eating me out like a pro. I feel like I took advantage of you?”

Steve’s eyes got wide as he gulped down his water. He coughed.

You watched that tongue dart out and lick those ruby red lips after he caught his breath. Whew, that side smile. You began to take this as a challenge. Steve’s words didn’t match his actions right now, and you were determined to find out why.

His deep voice gave you a clue.

“‘D’you like that?”

The way Steve was looking at you right now was everything. You smiled and leaned forward, noticing how his eyes went to your cleavage. The way his pupils were blown told you more.

You were beginning to change your mind about how Steve Rogers felt about you. He at least wanted your body. You had power.

“Yes, Captain.”

Steve almost moaned. The way you looked, your sultry tone, the fact that you said ‘making you suck his cock.’ He cleared his throat as your words raced around his brain. ‘…like you wanted to…, Captain…’

Fuck, he was screwed.

He straightened up.

“I mean… that wasn’t cool…”

You straightened up as well, jutting your breasts out as if an invitation. Steve shifted in his seat. You were making things hard for him.

“No. No it wasn’t…”

You pouted, thinking of the way he left you hanging.

“Fix that face, y/n.”

Holy hell. That command. He did want you to hit the ground right there. But you had to push back.

“Hmmmm. I guess I’m supposed to say, ‘Yes, Sir,’ Or you’ll spank me like you promised…”

You smiled at him mischievously.

You were such a brat. You had to be stopped. Before he lost control again.

“I didn’t promise that, y/n…”

Steve’s voice was broken and he licked his lips before taking another drink of water.

“Oh? I thought you said that?”

You twirled your finger around the rim of your glass and then dipped two into your drink, placing them into your mouth and slowly pulling them out of those lips. Steve licked his in response

Steve knew what you were doing, but it was long past time to turn back now. Blood was rapidly leading his brain. He grunted unconsciously, determined to stay in control.

“I’m not doing this with you. I need to take a shower.”

Steve got up and stalked toward the elevators, and you sat, steaming, in your seat. You were shaking with emotion. You realized the true source of your frustration. You wanted Steve, you were sharing a room, and you were in a beautiful setting. You didn’t have to be a love match, but why not go for it?

You called the waiter over and asked him to charge your breakfast to the account.

~~~~~~~

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Steve wanted to pry them open to run back out to you. But space was the best answer right now. You were amping him up to do something reckless, something that would be irreversible. It was best that he kept his distance.

He entered the room and took off his shirt, going to the bathroom to turn on the water. He shook his head as he thought of you. You were such a menace.

When he turned around, there you were.

The look on Steve’s face was a little scary. You didn’t know if he was angry… or something else.

“....I need to get my…” Your eyes searched the bathroom. “...my lipgloss…”

You walked closer to him then turned toward the vanity and picked up a tube of your Glossbomb, leaning over toward the mirror, smearing a slick shiny across those lips.

Steve’s resolve began to crumble as he inhaled your scent and watched your lips shine. Your words came back to him. He wanted that mouth of yours.

You turned around.

“You didn’t answer my question, Captain.”

“What question was that, Doll?”

Steve moved closer to you, backing you up against the vanity. Your heart beat faster, but you pressed on.

“About the spanking…”

You felt dumb, but in a good way as Steve stared at you, seeing right through you. And then he smirked. He looked you up and down as he leaned forward and caged you in, hands on either side of you on the sink. Steam filled the room and came out of your ears.

“What I said was that I wanted to spank you when you were giving me attitude on the plane. Seems that was warranted. You don’t know when to stop.”

Steve’s voice broke as his breath fanned across your face. His mouth was so, so close to yours.

You sighed, and pouted again.

“I never stop, Captain. So does that make me a bad girl? I thought I was a good girl? It’s what you said last night.”

“I said that was a mistake.”

“What happened last night was a mistake, or saying that I’m a good girl?”

You were quick to reply as you cocked your head at him.

“Y’know, I wasn’t going to say that it was a mistake earlier. You put words in my mouth. That’s not what I want there…”

Steve slid his hand up your arm to your throat, and closed his fingers around it. It was nothing, almost, but enough to show you his power. You whimpered in his grip.

“You are maddening, you know that? You should leave well enough alone…”

You looked him in the eyes. You felt his hard cock against your stomach, even felt it jump as he searched your face and settled on your lips. You decided to try it.

“Let me go, and I’ll leave it alone… Don’t, and well, you can teach me how to be good again…”

Steve’s mind said to let you go, but it was his cock and his heart that made him do what he did next.

He whispered as he moved toward you, brushing the line of your jaw with his fingers. Your head was reeling from the sexy tone as you realized that he’d said, “Teach you a lesson…”

His lips slammed into yours, and his hands roamed your body, laying claim to what he wanted. You moaned as his tongue decimated you, letting him take what he wanted. When you separated, he asked you a question.

“What do you want in your mouth, y/n?”

“I want your cock in my mouth, Captain.”

“That sounds… “

Steve rested his forehead against yours. Your words gave him the image, and he couldn't resist. He cleared his throat again, then his blue eyes captured yours. Steel.

“Go sit on the edge of the bed…”

“Yes, Sir.”

The way he clenched his jaw had your pussy doing the same as you practically skipped to the next room and did as you were told. He was standing right in front of you again, running his palm down his hardness outside of his sweats. Your heart beat with anticipation.

You whined when he reached inside his sweats and pulled it out. It looked so big, so hard, the peach mushroom tip weeping and pretty, but big. You looked up at him with wide eyes.

The way you suddenly looked scared made Steve get even harder.

“You sure this is what you want?”

He was stroking his cock, and using his thumb to lubricate himself. He was restraining himself from touching you, but you didn’t know that, all that you saw was the sexy veins bulging down his arms as he jacked it in front of you.

“Y-yes…”

You reached for it and Steve moved closer, moaning when your small, cool hand closed around his hot throbbing staff. When you started pumping him was when his head started swimming.

“God, Doll…”

Your mouth fell open, those glossy lips a magnet for his cock. He didn’t know if you were leaning towards him, or if he were moving closer to you, but none of that mattered when your lips and tongue made contact.

He hissed at the sensation.

“SSsssss, y/n,”

He looked down at you as you stared up at him. You were entranced, his smell of musk and sweat was intoxicating.

“Those eyes. That mouth. Open. Wider.”

He had a grip on your chin, firmly pulling your jaw down to accommodate him.

As you kept eye contact, you saw a ferality that made you shiver. You wanted that look on you forever. You tried to unhinge your jaw as Steve slid his smooth cock inside your mouth.

He stopped once your mouth was full, but you continued, allowing his access to your throat.

“Ohhhhh. So goood...”

Steve pulled out of your mouth and stuck two fingers in, watching as you licked and sucked them, pumping his wet cock with your hand.

“That mouth. You’re not giving me any sass now, are you?”

He held your chin again and looked you in the eye, lighty slapping your jaw.

You gasped, then smiled and shook your head as you eagerly sucked along the side of his dick.

“No, Sir,” you replied, your mouth full of Steve.

You stuck your tongue out and deep throated him bobbing slowly as you pumped him with your hand.

“Go ahead. Get sloppy with it.”

You spit on his dick as you went to town, going faster when Steve gathered your hair in his hand and moved you at his preferred pace.

“Look at me when you do that.”

Your eyes snapped to his, thighs clenching at his tone.

“Look at you. Are you a slut for this cock already?”

You pulled off with a plop to spit again.

“Yes, Captain.”

And you started glugging him, moving your hand and making Steve’s knees weak.

“Holy Fuck, that’s good. Yessss.”

You smiled at the praise and started jacking him against your outstretched tongue.

“Yes, yes, yessss. Suck the tip again. That fucking mouth.”

You did as you were told, taking him inside and jacking what didn’t fit.

Steve started moaning and pulled your hair so that you looked up at him.

“Stop if you don’t want my cum in your mouth.”

You jacked him even faster.

“I want it, Captain..”

You slapped his cock against your lips and then resumed sucking as Steve grunted and buried his fingers in your hair.

“So… fucking… good… good girl…fuckkk! I’m cumming. Dirty girl. That mouth is so damn good.”

Steve was full of contradictory praise as he held his balls and you jacked his cock fast, allowing your mouth to make the most pornographic sounds around him.

“Oh! Oh shit ohshit oooooh oooohh shitttttt!”

You slowed down when you felt the first spurt against your tongue and you let it fall out of your mouth. Steve was hypnotized as he took his cock and pumped it into your mouth as you swallowed.

“What a dirty little girl. Good girl gone bad. You love this, don’t you?”

You nodded as you swallowed, your eyes tearing as the cum squirted into your throat.

“Fuuuuuucckkkk.”

Steve was profane as he watched you swallow it all and clean him up.

“That was amazing, Doll. Thank you.”

He reached down and traced your swollen lips with his thumb. He knew what you wanted, what you needed next. But there was really no turning back from that.

“I think we’re even now. I’m going to go take that shower.”

Steve turned and went back into the bathroom, leaving you to wonder which was greater, your need or your pride.

———

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sabcandoit · 10 months

Text

As you wish

Spider noir x fem reader

Summary: Spider-Man Noir comes home from a late night saving the world. You cooked dinner for him and as the night progresses on you both find yourselves naked and begging for more.

Warnings: smut. and fluff! but mostly smut and pet names. No real roles are pushed but Noir is a bit more dom and the one in control. Fingering, begging, and lots and lots of flirting.

A/N: Ugh i'm a slut for this man. Also this is my first fic so !!! Please enjoy!

You were at home, cooking a dinner to share with your husband. Peter was busy at work and usually wasn't back until late. Oh, how you missed his presence during the day. Waking up with him was a treat in itself, but the rest of the day was torturous. It was definitely not easy being married to Spiderman.

You had put Dean Martin’s hits on the record player, lighting a few candles, trying to set a romantic and calming atmosphere. You and Peter had a shared love for jazz. As you continued to put the dishes on the dining table, you sighed, wiping the back of your hand on your forehead. Even through almost a year of marriage, you two still had this honeymoon phase running, never fully thinking it would stop. You smiled, thinking about how gentlemanly and chivalrous he was. You couldn't wait to see him again and wrap your arms around him and kiss his beautiful lips and…

Keys jangled at the door, and a hand turned the knob as a shadowy figure stepped in. Clad in his dark suit, Peter closed the door behind him. You turned to see his masked face looking over at you in the Kitchen.

“Peter!” You smiled, “Welcome home.” you sweetly walked up to him, snaking your hands around his waist, looking up at him.

“Ah, hello darling…” he sighed, exhausted. “I see you have dinner all ready.” you could tell he was smiling too even under his mask.

“Oh yes,” you turned around, looking at the table. As you let go of his waist and stepped back, he watched as you walked over, fixing up your hair as you untied the apron from around you. Peter took off his hat, setting it on the coat stand and pushed off his trench coat. He pulled his mask up, showing his tired face and disheveled hair., and picked off his gloves. His black, buttoned up vest over a black turtleneck now visible as he still sported his black pants and knee-length heavy duty boots, walking towards the diner table. As you placed the platter of roast and vegetables down, Peter pulled out your chair. “It looks delicious, doll” he softly said as he put his hand on your lower back.

“Thank you.” You replied, sitting down. He then moved over to his chair and sat down. As you ate dinner he sat up, smirking as he complimented the soft music playing. “So… it's a Dean Martin kind of night?” he questioned with his fork in the air. You chuckled and nodded, “You bet.”

As you and Peter finished eating, you started to stand up, grabbing your dishes as he stopped you, with his hand stretched out. “Let me do that Sweetheart.” He rolled up his sleeves before grabbing the plate in your hands as you walked over to wash more dishes. After he put the dirty plates in the soapy water you were using to clean, he wrapped his half-covered arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulder.

“I missed you.” he softly said. You only closed your eyes and breathed in, resting your own head on his. “I did too.” you spoke. As his hands moved up your body, he stood up straight and looked down at your figure. Wearing a simple, mid length floral dress and stockings with your hair falling out of the temporary updo. “I love this dress on you…” he flirted as he hitched up the dress slightly while still caressing your body from behind.

“Oh Pete, you ought to be ashamed of yourself” you raised your head, feeling his touch getting more and more heated. “Why?” he was quick to respond, you could hear a smirk in his voice. “I should be able to appreciate my beautiful wife…” he continued. You blushed slightly, drying off your hands in a towel as you turned around, now facing him. You looked up into his eyes, him being quite taller than you. Reaching up, wrapping your arms around his neck, you smiled as his hands continued to place on your waist. You both leaned in, kissing passionately.

As you continued to kiss, sweet and simply, your linked arms fell down to his neck. The kisses started getting more intense and sultry, making you both breathe laborly. Parting for just a moment, you mumbled gently “Well, big guy.”, making Peter chuckle and lightly blush too, coming back into the kiss. He eventually made it down your neck, growing impatient. You felt his breath lowering with every kiss. As he did this, you made little noises, not being able to stay quiet. One of your arms came between you two as you started unbuttoning the top of his vest. “Peter…” you groaned. He stopped, looking at you, “Perhaps we should move?”, he looked with a playful tone. You giggled and nodded as he picked you up bridal style. When he did this, your dress only rid up more, showing your upper thighs. He took notice, his eyes traveling over your body. Then he snapped his eyes directly into yours, raising his brows as you blushed.

Neither of you had to say anything, you already knew what you were both thinking. Peter walked into your bedroom, setting you on the bed and leaning down on you, kissing feverishly. Your hands pushed up on his chest while you made out. He paused to comment, “Oh you doll… so pretty”.

Your hair completely fell out of the tie you had it in at this point as he undid a few more of his buttons. His clunky shoes were still on, frustrating him as he leaned down to untie them, mumbling apologies to you for leaving your excited bodies behind. You just chuckled as he came back up to you after successfully kicking them off. Your dress was practically useless in covering you, now halfway up your body, showing your tan stockings and panties. He smirked at the sight, uttering under his breath “Woman…”, giving you one chaste kiss before pulling your sheen stockings down. You watched him intently as he did so, rummaging your hands through his vest again, unbuttoning the rest and helping him shrug it off.

He hummed as he kissed your exposed collarbone, and you moaned lightly, rubbing your hand along his muscular back. He pulled your dress over your arms and head, panting in the kiss as he brought his large hands to fondle your covered breasts. You moaned into the kiss.

“D’you like that?” he slurred, frantically trying to continue his work. You felt the bulge in his pants rub against your panties and stomach. You boldly brought a hand down to his clothed dick, palming it, making him gasp. He stood up, keeping eye contact with a sinful look as he was still surprised from your daring hand. Quickly crossing his arms, he pulled up on his tucked in turtleneck, tossing it to the floor harshly before coming back down on you again. Your eyes followed his bare chest, hairy and robust, muscles contracting as he moved. Only in your undergarments now, he slipped a hand in your panties. “Already this wet? Wow, you must be pleased.” he mischievously commented.

You moaned more, desperately needing him. Peter then stuck one finger up your cunt, moving in and out. “Oh.. Ah!.. Peter, please!” you screamed in between heavy breaths. “Please what?” he teased. He was having fun with this, too much fun. You furrowed your eyebrows in irritation, not wanting to play around. As he continued to finger you, adding another digit in, you mumbled “Fuck me”. He partially heard you, an idea coming to his mind. “What was that?” he chuckled breathlessly. You only raised your voice slightly, uttering, “Fuck me…” He definitely heard you this time, but went along with his plan. “Say it louder, like you mean it doll.” he voiced, egging you on. After a few pants and you grasping onto his back for dear life, overstimulated by his fingers, you spoke loud and clear. “Fuck me Peter Parker.” All though he was feeling very playful and very much so liking where this was going, something clicked in him with your last remark. Maybe it was hearing his full name being spouted so desperately from your mouth. “As you wish.” He then retracted his digits from your pussy and stood up again.

You laid on the bed, exasperated yet completely aroused and ready as he unlatched his belt buckle, slipping it off and pushing his pants down. His dick, large and rock hard, was faced up in his tight, black boxers. Before pulling said clothing down, he ran his hand through his hair with a lustful look on his face. You looked him in the eyes with an innocent, adoring sort of look. When he noticed your stares, he leaned back, already high off of the foreplay. While you watched him, you unfastened your bra from behind and threw it on the floor, sporting a seductive look. “Dear God…” he muttered as he slipped off his boxers. Your eyes widened as you saw his veiny and tall member. How did his confidence never waver? He always looked at you so adoringly, as though you were the only thing that mattered. He was so vocal about it too, calling you all sorts of cute and lustful names. It no doubt turned you on each time, hanging on to his every word.

All that was left was your underwear, absolutely soaked. He leant back down again, rubbing your hips and sliding down to your panties, picking them off, dragging them down your legs as you collectively panted. You bit your lip as you watched him slide back up to your now barren privates. He kissed it slowly, as though he was praising your body, ascending to your breasts and collarbone. He sucked on one of the nipples, softly stroking and pinching the other one. “Peter!” you moaned. You could feel him smirking against your breast, clearly liking the sounds you made. “Keep making those pretty noises, Angel.”

You couldn't continue like this, you thought. Every passing second becoming more impatient. His hard on was now edging you, and the sensation making you groan. He finally parted from your chest and led his cock into your vagina, going slow and steady, so as not to hurt you. You whined his name lewdly. This drove him to move more forcefully. He whispered sweet pet names in your ear as he held on tightly to your hips. Little kisses were marked all over you in the meantime as your arms clung to his back, hastily clenching your fists. He enjoyed every minute of watching you. His lips pursed as he slid in and out of you. You both couldnt speak at this point, being too engulfed in the intensity of the moment, but he managed to spill out a quick “Fuck.” and “I love you” as he continued to pound into you. You had no need to beg him to go faster or harder, he knew just how you liked it.

“Im Close!” you moaned. He kissed and bit on your neck, making you squirm and blush. “Cum for me darling.” he commanded sweetly. With one last cry out, your cum dripped out, being blocked by his member still very much so in you. This drove him mad, and his release was soon after. White fluid, a mixture of both of yours, ran lewdly down your leg and onto the bed. You both continued moaning, still high off of the circumstances.

As the intoxicating moment wore off, you laid next to each other on the bed, hugging. He stroked your head lightly, playing with your hair and kissing your temple. “My dove,” he called. “You are amazing.” you just closed your eyes, basking in the moment, smiling. Peter mumbled, “One moment dear, let me get you something” as he rolled over and pushed off of the bed, grabbing his boxers and slipping them on. As he walked out of the room, you watched his sinewy back and cute butt. You put your hand at the side of your mouth as you teasingly spoke, “Be quick, handsome!”. He glanced back at you with a raised eyebrow and curious smirk.

He grabbed two glasses and filled them with water, returning back to the bedroom. As he came back in, he saw you throwing on one of his short sleeve button-up (it being very large on you), and your underwear as you stood. “I'm going to freshen up” you explained, walking towards the bathroom connected to your room. He followed you, handing you a glass as you smiled back and thanked him. He stretched an arm out to your waist, grazing it lightly as he spoke in a husky voice, “Such a beautiful girl.”

#across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #spiderman noir #spiderman #spidernoir #spider noir x reader #spider man noir x reader #smut #fluff #pet names #what a gentleman #i am obsessed #fanfic #tumblr

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unseededtoast · 6 months

Text

Take My Hand | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Part Two to I Stayed There

Inspired by “Right Where You Left Me” by Taylor Swift

Summary: In which almost a decade later unlikely paths cross again, with little time to make big decisions. What once was broken can be mended, and the past can be forgiven. Frozen hearts can be reignited and destined souls can become one again. But only if given the chance.

Cross posted on Wattpad and AO3 and here is my masterlist!

wc: 10.3k

warnings: a lot of angst, pining, men begging on their knees, emotional turmoil

a/n: howdy folks, back at it again with part two. I want to thank everyone for the overwhelming support on part one, and I really hope part two lives up to your expectations. It got a little lengthy, but I hope you all enjoy it. And as always, thank you so very much for taking the time to read my stories, I appreciate each and every one of you.

"I knew if I told you that there was someone else that you wouldn't push the issue. I knew you loved me too much to interfere with my happiness. I used your own love against you and I am so sorry." He sniffles and pushes tears from his eyes.

His words feel like someone has punched you square in the stomach. Spencer had never found anyone else, he just wanted to protect you. He loved you too much to let you be harmed. Realizing his actions were done out of pure love, and not betrayal, a sob bubbles up from your chest.

Years upon years you had spent every night in envy of the other woman who was receiving Spencer's love. Months had been dedicated to wondering what you could've done differently to keep him from leaving. Countless weeks spent in agonizing misery, mourning and yearning for the love of your life.

Eight years, eleven months, and twenty-eight days. That's how much time has passed since Spencer had walked out, and every day that passes and another day is added to the count, his heart grows heavier.

Sure, he's able to get up in the mornings and do his job thoroughly, but the joy life once had has faded. He's become jaded, and everyone has noticed. They've all just accepted that it's who he is now. He no longer tries to go out of his way to inquire about his teammates and their lives, he stopped practicing his magic tricks when there was downtime. Instead, he keeps to himself for the most part. The only time the team really hears from him is when there's an active case.

The first year or so the team had given him some grace, they understood how badly the break up had affected him; they assumed he'd bounce back eventually, but more and more time passed with no indication of returning to his former self.

And after a while they stopped trying to set him up with dates, they quit teasing him about being disinterested in getting back out there. Spencer had never told them exactly what happened, but after they stopped, he suspected Derek filled in the blanks for them.

Truthfully, the rest of the team had taken pity on him; they understood all too well why he had initiated the breakup. But even with their knowledge and insight, they are still saddened by what Spencer has become, and they wish every day that his old personality will resurface. But until that day comes, if it ever does, they will remain supportive from a distance with which he is comfortable with.

"You ready for the next case?" Derek asks Spencer as he stirs the sugar into his coffee. Spencer stares at the rising steam before answering.

"Yeah, I'm ready." He replies and grabs the cup, following Derek to the briefing room where JJ and the rest are awaiting them.

Spencer takes his usual spot and listens to JJ explain the case. It's a local case, a wife gone missing in the middle of the day yesterday. From the photos, it looks like it could've been a burglary gone bad. Spencer zones out a little while JJ is explaining, instead focusing on his coffee, which he wishes he would've put more sugar into. After JJ has completed the brief, the team heads out to start working, and like usual, Spencer is tasked with the geographical profile.

Derek works alongside him under the order of Hotch while the rest go explore leads. The two of them work silently and efficiently, singling out places of interest to investigate and narrowing down a perimeter for officers to search.

"What do you think about it?" Derek breaks the silence, earning a sigh from Spencer. He steps away from the board and crosses his arms, studying what they have so far.

"I think it's weird that nothing of value was really missing, just the wife. You'd think if it were a burglary gone bad the unsub would've taken something else." Spencer's eyes dance across the crime scene photos, mind working a hundred miles a minute to make sense of this.

"Well maybe it wasn't a burglary." Derek says, eyes trained on a photo of the husband who reported his wife missing.

"Maybe not." Spencer agrees, and the two of them delve back into the work.

-----

You stir your tea around in your cup, settling on the couch for some morning television before you start your day. There's a laundry list of things you need to get done, only you lack the necessary motivation to get started on it all. Your hand finds the remote and turns the volume up, the woman on the screen piquing your interest and distracting you from your responsibilities.

"Mrs. Greene was reported missing late last night by her husband. At this time, her whereabouts are still unknown, and the authorities urge you to contact them if you have any information." The news reporter speaks with clarity and urgency. A photo of the missing woman pops onto the screen, but you don't recognize her. You hope they find her alive, but you know cases like this usually don't end well.

Thinking about what might have happened to the woman, your mind drifts to Spencer, and you wonder how he would approach the case. Would he immediately suspect the husband? Or would he hold off on judgment until he got the facts straight? Running your hand over his blanket, you wish he was here to talk about it.

Though it's been almost nine years at this point, there isn't a day that goes by that you don't think of him. You hope he's doing well, you hope he's found happiness. And at this point, you even think he might have a family of his own. But you try not to dwell on that thought too long, for it still makes you sick to your stomach to imagine him having a family with anyone other than you.

Of course, you could always ask Derek, but you think that a part of you would prefer not to know. Because if you don't know for sure, then there's always a chance that you're wrong. In order to stay functional you need the plausible deniability. While you want him to be happy, and you want him to live his life to the fullest, his absence is still very prominent and noticeable to you.

After you finish your tea, you place your cup on the white tablecloth adorning the dining room table, red stain having faded to pink from time and wear. And while the stain may fade, you know for a fact your memory about that morning will always be in your mind. And if the stain wasn't enough of a reminder, the scars on the bottoms of your feet are. It still hurts to step a certain way after all this time, the glass had embedded itself deeply into your skin, causing lasting damage.

Once you get ready for the day, you embark on the errands you have to run. A small part inside of you is excited about this new journey; it'll be like a fresh start and you think that's exactly what you need. You don't really want to move away, you love this city, but it houses memories that will forever hold you prisoner if you let them; and you've let them for the past nine years. The other part of you, the part that still clings to Spencer, is suffering and it makes this decision ten times harder. The guilt slowly, but surely, eats away at you with each step you take down the street but you try to convince yourself that this is the right move to be making.

Ignoring your emotional turmoil, you walk into the leasing agent's building and find her office easily, having already been here once last week to start the process of relisting the apartment. She welcomes you in and explains the paperwork as you sit across from her. The agent tells you where to sign and when you will need to be out of the apartment once you've submitted the paperwork. She said that since Spencer had taken his name off the lease years ago, that this process is a hundred times easier since there's no permission needed from him anymore. It's a bittersweet statement you realize.

You take the papers from the agent's office and tell her that you'll be back soon with everything signed. She had wanted you to fill everything out right there, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. After all, this apartment holds so much sentimental value and the thought of it being someone else's makes your heart ache. You'll have to build yourself up to sign them, once you've fully convinced yourself that this is the right thing to do. And you know that once you sign those papers, the tiny part of Spencer you still have, will be yours no longer.

After the leasing agent's office, you take a trip to a moving company to get a quote on how much it would cost to move your things from Virginia to Colorado. The price they gave you was a little steeper than you had hoped for, but you thank them nonetheless and try to figure out how to foot that bill while also finding a new place to live. There are a few places in your sights, but you had yet to decide on one.

You return to your apartment after you had completed the last few errands on your list, dropping the stack of papers onto the dining table and unloading the groceries you had picked up on your way back home. The sun had started to set and so you turned on a few lamps and lit a candle, wanting to try to soothe your anxieties after today and have a relaxing evening.

A glass of wine finds its way into your hand after dinner, you kick your feet up on the coffee table and sip while staring at the screen in front of you. They're running another story on the missing woman, but it seems they have more details. Intrigued, you turn the volume up.

"Authorities are now saying that the scene looks like it could have been a robbery gone bad. Informants on the scene noted that there were signs of a struggle inside the residence. If you noticed any suspicious activity, contact the sheriff's office immediately." The reporter switches to a different story, and you change the channel, wanting to know more about the missing woman. And you know there's always one channel that seems to be ahead of the news.

The reporter is a fiery blonde-haired lady who makes her opinions well-known to the public. And you know her persona is probably partially to generate views and interest value, but you can't deny that she's able to get insider information quicker than the traditional news channels. Sure enough, the woman's face is on the center of the screen, and she's going on about Mrs. Greene's disappearance in a very animated manner.

"You're telling me that a husband reports his wife missing hours after he was aware of her absence? He knew that she was gone since at least the afternoon, and he didn't report it to police until almost the next day? Not only that, but there's been a disturbance in the house! From the photos I've seen so far, the ottoman in the living room was knocked over, the coffee table was shattered, and the dining room chairs were all sorts of disheveled. And to top it all off, I've got someone on the scene there, and they just told us that police are reporting a positive luminol test. There was blood on the scene that's been cleaned up. Now I'm no expert, but I think that certainly casts suspicion on Mr. Greene." Her voice drones on and on about her theory that Mr. Greene was most definitely involved in the disappearance of his wife, but something about the details is oddly familiar, you just can't quite put your finger on it.

You go to bed that night trying to recall why those details sound so familiar. Tossing and turning, you struggle to pinpoint where you've heard something like that before and it's beginning to drive you insane. The plots of movies and shows run through your mind, trying to piece things together, but to no avail. You eventually drift off to sleep, and for the first night in nine years, your dreams are full of something other than Spencer; your mind finally has something compelling enough to mull over to distract you from the cold, empty spot beside you.

The morning comes and your hand ghosts over the spot next to you, like it does every morning. You had hoped that by now your unconscious would understand that he's not here to hold close in the morning anymore, but you wake up the same way every day; full of sorrow and longing. With a sigh, you push yourself out of bed, the air feeling crisp against your skin. What you wouldn't give for five minutes of Spencer's warmth.

Your morning routine comes and goes, and you find yourself staring at a stack of cardboard boxes, waiting to be filled. Hands on your hips, you look around at everything that needs to be packed. Things are either coming with you, or they're being returned to their rightful owner. You still had no idea how you're going to get everything back to Spencer, but you figure you'll work it out when the time comes. For now, you'll start boxing things up.

With a box beside you, your heart constricts as you reach for a stack of Spencer's books to be put away indefinitely. The empty shelf is reflective of the emptiness in your soul, and you're not sure if it'll ever fill back in. Truthfully, you don't know what could possibly mend the brokenness as your heart only has one desire.

You pack up two bookcases before you're unable to handle it anymore. With each empty shelf the reality sets in more and more; he's not coming back here. Your Spencer isn't going to knock on the door and come back to you. You turn your head to look at the door, not sure what you're expecting, but your eyes land on his coat that still hangs from the rack. It lost its signature Spencer scent about three years ago, but you don't have it in you to take it down, not yet at least.

You're keenly aware that eventually you'll have to pack up the stained tablecloth, Spencer's clothes that remain in the dressers, his favorite blanket, and give them away forever, never to be seen or touched by you again. Then all you'll have left of him are the memories, and after all this time some of them have already faded entirely. You're no longer able to remember many of the small moments shared together, you can't recall how his lips felt against your forehead as he bid you goodbye in the mornings before work. You fear that in another nine years you won't remember anything except his name and the moment he walked out of the door.

You fold the top of the box down and slide it across the room to join the others. When you return to the shelf to assess what size box you need next, your eyes land on a very specific book. It's one you had recommended to Spencer. You told him it was a compelling story and though it's not a literary classic, he should give it a try and broaden his horizons. Of course, it took you a week to finish it and it took him a casual afternoon.

The details of the book flood your mind and you realize why the disappearance of Mrs. Greene seemed so familiar. Your hands open the book and flip through the pages, finding exactly what you were looking for. In a frenzy, your eyes scan over the words and they grow wide with realization. Either this is one of the biggest delusions you've convinced yourself of, or you might just be onto something.

You reread the words over and over again, wrestling with yourself about whether this is worthy of submitting a tip. From the perspective of an investigator, it may seem absolutely ridiculous. I mean after all, you're using a piece of fiction to explain a real-life situation. But a small voice in the back of your head reminds you of something Spencer had said several times,

"Sometimes what seems like an insignificant detail ends up cracking the case."

Youwrestle with what to do, placing the book on the coffee table and pacing around, the television providing low background noise as your mind goes through different reasonings. You stop pacing around once you see a familiar blonde-haired woman on the screen, her FBI credentials hanging from her blazer pocket.

Sitting on the edge of the couch, you turn the volume up and listen to her intently. She announces that the BAU is actively working the case and that they hope to find Mrs. Greene soon. She also implores the public for any information. Your phone on the dining room table seems to call your name, and before you can think through what you're doing, the phone is ringing.

"What's up sweet thing?" Derek's voice greets you through the phone. You trust that even if your speculation is wildly ridiculous that he won't make fun of you. You explain to him your theory but he cuts you off in the middle of your sentence.

"Come by the office in the morning and explain it to the team. It might just be something." He asks, and you sigh.

"Derek I don't-" You begin making your excuse of why you can't go to their office, but he cuts you off for a second time.

"He won't be there, just come on by." Before you can get another word in, he hangs the phone up. It seems you have no choice, really.

Anxiety blooms within you, you haven't been to the BAU office in a decade. And the last time you were there was under much better and happier circumstances. But if Derek promised Spencer wouldn't be there, you figure it's worth going if your theory can help find Mrs. Greene. You just hope that the others don't bring him up in any capacity; you don't think you could handle hearing how happy he is with her while you suffer every single day without him.

-----

Nine years. It's been nine years today since Spencer left you. He stares up at the ceiling when his eyes open in the morning, heavy with sleep. There's an uncomfortable emptiness within him, fueled by his thoughts of what today signifies. He's sure the only thing he'll be able to do is replay that fateful night over and over again in his mind today, he's not sure how he's going to stay focused on the case.

Eventually, he gets himself out of bed and begins his morning routine. He buttons his shirt, puts a tie on, and shrugs a sweater overtop. Spencer stares at himself in the mirror, his reflection showing him the grim reality that is the dark circles under his eyes and his unkempt hair. His eyes trail down to see that his tie is crooked, and his fingers fix it; but he can never fix it like you used to.

Breakfasts don't seem to be as tasty as the ones you made, heading off to work without a goodbye kiss gives him no ambition for the day, and there's nothing to look forward to after he's off the clock for you aren't eagerly awaiting his return with a smile on your face. In the nine years that have passed, the vibrant world has devolved into grayscale.

The clock on the wall tells him he still has two hours before he's supposed to be in. Derek told him to take a few hours this morning, he knows how hard today was bound to be for Spencer, and he was right. But Spencer is restless, he knows if he stays in this apartment for another hour and a half that he's going to let his mind take him to sorrowful places; and that's sure to affect the team dynamic.

After three years, Derek had confronted Spencer. He said that while he understands the pain, that Spencer can't let it affect his job performance. And that if he did, there's a chance he'd have to be let go. So after that day, Spencer made an effort to keep up his appearances and performance. He couldn't bear to lose you and the job. If he lost the job then it means he left you for nothing. It had to be for something, for something good and meaningful.

Spencer ties his shoelaces and finds his messenger bag, slinging it over his shoulder. The team isn't expecting him for a while, but he's got nothing better to do and he doesn't want to be left alone with his thoughts any longer than he has to. And surely the team won't mind him coming in sooner than scheduled, besides there's just something about this case that seems so oddly familiar to him.

-----

The elevator door dings and you find yourself in front of familiar doors, the FBI logo cleanly shining on the glass doors into the BAU's office space. Readjusting the bag on your shoulder, you go to open the doors to find lots of agents buzzing about, carrying folders and talking to others. You're really just looking for one agent in particular, but you can't seem to find him. Feeling anxious about being here, you contemplate just turning around and going back home. As you go to make your quick escape, you hear Derek's voice behind you.

"There she is!" He says and you swear you can hear the smile on his face. His arm wraps around your shoulders, bringing you in for a brief hug. So much for your escape plan. You plaster the best smile that you can manage on your face and return his hug, his embrace is familiar and warm.

"Here I am." You say, nerves twisting your stomach around. Derek leads you through the craziness of the bullpen into a smaller room, where people are already waiting. You recognize the blonde from the TV, and you remember Garcia and Hotch, but you don't know who the dark haired lady is, nor the older man. But you're thankful that there's one missing agent from the table. Feeling like you're under heavy scrutiny, you give everyone a polite smile and wait for Derek to take the lead like you know he will.

After a few moments of silence, Derek claps his hands together to gain everyone's attention and then introduces you to the team. Once again, you give your politest smile and listen to Derek explain why you're here. The team all looks to you with interest, and you pull the book from the bag on your shoulder.

"So, I know this may sound silly, but I couldn't help but notice all the similarities, just from what I've gathered from the news. If you look where I put the bookmarks, you'll see what I mean." You tell them in rushed words, anxious to see their reactions, expecting ridicule.

"Gone Girl, huh?" The older man Derek introduced as Rossi questions, leaning in closer to the book to read the marked pages. You nod, chewing on your bottom lip as their eyes scan the pages.

"It is oddly similar. The picture frames on the mantle, the ottoman, the blood in the kitchen. I wonder if there are more similarities that we just haven't noticed." The dark-haired woman, Emily, speaks up first. Her words of interest makes it feel like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders, they're not going to ridicule you after all. In fact, it seems like they may be entertaining the idea.

While you're engrossed in the team's blooming discussion about what this might mean, you hadn't heard the door to the room open, and you hadn't noticed who stepped through that door. No, your attention is solely on the lively debate about what the team's next step should be. Emily thinks that this might be a path worth pursuing, but Rossi urges her to keep an open mind. It's not until the discussion has died down, and the team all thanks you for coming in, do you turn to leave. Immediately your eyes land on his tall frame, standing right in the doorway.

Spencer is standing right in front of you.

It feels like the air has been kicked out of your lungs, your limbs feel like they've turned to jelly. The blood in your veins turns to ice and you're frozen to the floor. Ringing sounds off in your ears, unable to hear anything around you. The only thing you can focus on is his honeyed eyes staring right back into yours. It's like the rest of the world has dissolved, and he is the only thing that remains.

In his eyes you can see your Spencer, you remember so clearly the first time his eyes met yours, and how you were enamored from the very beginning. The first time you laid eyes on him you felt your heart race and you just knew you had to go up to him and say something, or else you'd regret it. You remember how soft spoken and polite he was, and how he stumbled over his words when he asked you on your first date. His hazel eyes dazzled under the warm lights that night and you knew you were hooked. His eyes hold so many precious memories, and they all flash right after another in your mind, even the memories that had faded with time come back.

Derek's hand on your elbow knocks you out of your trance and you realize then that the whole team is staring at the two of you, but you don't care. You come back to your senses and look over Spencer, taking note of how his hair is longer, curlier, and how his tie is still crooked. He's even grown out his facial hair a little. He looks so much like the Spencer you knew but nothing alike at the same time. This Spencer looks tired, worn down, and just plainly miserable. It deeply pains you to see him in such a condition.

He licks his lips and opens his mouth to say something, but he stays silent. You see his hands clench beside him and your face flushes with heat, your eyes begin to sting, and you feel like it's becoming harder to breathe.

"Come on, I'll walk you out." Derek says into your ear and he gently tugs you towards the door, where your eyes stay locked onto Spencer as you follow Derek. Spencer takes a step to the side to let you and Derek out of the room, and your arm just barely brushes against his, sending a tingling feeling throughout your body. You feel a tear drip down your cheek, and you swear you can see tears in his eyes too.

Derek gets you down to the parking lot where your car awaits you and he opens the door for you and helps you in. He can tell that you're going through something. You haven't said a word, you have a far away look in your eye, and you're crying without bothering to wipe away the tears. It's almost like you're in shock, and in a way, you are.

"He wasn't supposed to be here for another hour, I'm sorry. If I had known I would've just come over or something." Derek apologizes, but you shake your head, slowly coming back to reality.

"It's not your fault, Derek. Maybe this was the universe's way of letting me say goodbye, get some closure." You speak, voice hoarse. Derek's eyebrows furrow together,

"What do you mean?" He asks, not understanding what your words imply. He'll never admit it to you, but he's concerned about how you're going to handle this run-in. From experience, he knows that you're likely to spiral after this, and that's the last thing he wants for you. After all the progress you've made lately and your personality finally beginning to come back, he fears this may cause a relapse of sorts.

"I'm moving to Colorado." You tell him for the first time. His mouth falls agape in surprise.

-----

After Derek comes back into the office from seeing you out, he can tell that the atmosphere has changed in the room. Glances are being thrown Spencer's way, and Spencer looks more pale than usual, like he had just seen a ghost. He's lost in his own mind, oblivious to the looks everyone is giving him.

"Let's head to the scene one more time to see if this theory holds up. Morgan, Reid, you can meet us there." Hotch announces and stands from the table, the rest of the team following closely behind. Once everyone has dispersed, Derek sits across from Spencer.

"You okay?" He asks, not knowing where Spencer is at mentally. His watery eyes glance from the tabletop to Derek, and he swallows hard.

"Today is the nine year anniversary of when I left." He says, and Derek's heart breaks for the two of you. Sure, it would've been hard on any given day for the two of you to see each other, but on a day with so much significance? It has to be gut wrenching. And to put the cherry on top, Derek knows the news he has to break to Spencer.

"Listen man. She told me something before she left and I think you should know." Derek's hand finds its way to Spencer's shoulder.

"What is it?" Spencer's mind is running through dozens of scenarios, trying to predict what you possibly could've said. Derek lips his lips and sighs,

"She told me she's moving to Colorado." Spencer feels as if the entire world has stopped spinning.

"What? When?" His voice is breathy and desperate. He has to know where you're going, when you're going, and why. He can't stand the thought of you being out there alone without being able to make sure you're okay. Derek's hand squeezes Spencer's shoulder, trying to comfort him.

"She said within the next few weeks, but she's got some loose ends to tie up here first." Spencer nods, understanding he still has some time to figure out how to approach this situation. He can't see anything clearly right now, for his mind is self-destructing from the thought of losing you for good.

"Maybe I can find a way to delay her trip somehow, or find out where she's going and set up some sort of periodic welfare check. Or maybe I set up a fake social media profile to follow her and make sure she's still okay." Spencer begins rattling off different ways he can make sure that you'll be okay if he can't be there. And he's well aware that his suggestions sound like borderline stalking, but he doesn't care, his love for you knows no boundaries and he would go to the ends of the Earth to make sure you're okay.

He needs to know that you are okay, no matter how many miles are put between the two of you. If he can't know that you're okay then he doesn't know what he's going to do; he even considers relocating to a field office out in Colorado just in case you need help.

"I've watched the two of you destroy yourselves over the past nine years. Neither of you have actually been able to recover, and you know it. She still thinks that you're with another woman. You're still in love with her, and now it's time to make your decision on whether you can let her go or not." Derek's voice speaks reason into Spencer's racing mind and he realizes that Derek is right. He's got a decision to make, and he has to make it soon.

-----

Rain patters against the window, providing some white noise for you while you tape the top of a box down. At this point, you've managed to pack up all of Spencer's books and every bookcase now sits barren. You swear the absence of his books causes the apartment to drop a few degrees, it feels empty and lifeless. You told the leasing agent that you would be by in the morning to drop off the paperwork, finally gaining the courage to sign them last night.

It had taken you about ten days after seeing Spencer before you could push yourself to sign them. A tiny part of you was still clinging to hope that he would come by. But he didn't. And he's not going to, you have to remind yourself. Constantly you have to remind yourself that you were able to see him one last time, and that's going to have to be enough closure, for it's all you're going to receive. But still, you can't help but feel the hole in your soul ache with desire for him.

Standing in the middle of an almost barren apartment, you're haunted by memories of happier days. You can remember the first time you and Spencer had walked through the front door, excited for your future together. Little by little, the two of you decorated and furnished the apartment to make it your own private haven where the two of you could seek refuge in each other.

Your hands find Spencer's blanket draped over the back of the couch, and you hold it close one last time, trying to commit the feeling to memory. It lost Spencer's scent long, long ago, but you still cherish it. After you've made peace with it, you fold it and place it in the bottom of a box, and go to the bedroom. Pulling out drawers of the dresser, Spencer's clothes are still neatly folded, just as he had left them. His clothes find their place on top of the blanket, and soon enough, the drawers are empty and more boxes are taped shut.

Evening comes around and you zip up a familiar dress, ready to spend one last night in a familiar restaurant. Today would've been your twelfth anniversary. Just like every year, you had made a very specific reservation, only this year will be the last. Applying mascara to your eyelashes, you give yourself one last look in the mirror. You can still see the young woman you once were in your reflection.

Your phone buzzing on the counter tears your gaze away from the mirror. You see that Derek is trying to call you, and so you pick up without a second thought.

"Hey sweet thing, what are you doing tonight? How about you come over and we have a farewell drink?" He offers and you smile at his generosity, knowing that any other day you would've taken him up on it.

"Sorry Derek, I can't tonight. I've got a reservation." You tell him, knowing that he will understand what you mean. He doesn't keep track of the days like you do, but he's familiar with your annual tradition.

"Okay, another night then, enjoy yourself." His voice is warm as he hangs up the phone. You're grateful that Derek has been a reliable friend throughout the years, and you know you're going to miss him when you move. Of course you'll make the effort to stay in contact, it just won't be the same as having him nearby.

The waitress shows you to your seat and you order the same wine you get every year. It doesn't matter if your tastes have changed, that's not the point. By now the rain is coming down harder, and you can't help but wonder if the Earth is mourning the end of things like you are. Your lipstick leaves faint marks around the rim of the glass and you stare at the empty chair in front of you.

Each year, you try your best to remember what it was like when Spencer was here, but each year your memory becomes more and more hazy on the details. Until one year you couldn't even remember what color tie he was wearing. Instead, all you can recall is the way he made you feel. You intend to drag this dinner out as long as you possibly can, knowing once you leave here that it's just one more piece of Spencer you've had to say farewell to for the final time.

There's a couple sitting at the table next to you, sharing smiles and clinking their glasses together. You try not to stare, but they remind you so much of who you used to be. The woman's eyes have a hopeful spark in them, hopelessly in love with the man who sits across from her who is obviously just as in love with her. When the waitress comes around to ask if you need anything else, you ask if you can pay for their tab.

An hour later, you're swirling around the remnants of wine in your glass. You had finished dinner and consumed enough wine for the night, so now you're just stalling. You can't yet pry yourself up from this spot, still clinging dearly to this part of Spencer you still have. Once you stand up, it'll make this reality all too real, and you can't face it quite yet. So you give yourself a few more minutes to mourn the way you need to and to make your peace here.

You hear the front door open, but your sights are set outside the window, watching the rain pelt the sidewalk. There's some sort of rushed conversation happening by the hostess' stand, but you can't make out the words, not that you're trying to anyways. The couple that you paid for gets up and leaves the restaurant, and that gains your attention. You offer them a weak smile as they giddily exit the restaurant; their happiness only emphasizes your sorrows.

Before you can turn back to resume watching the rain, someone stands in front of you. Your eyes trail up the person's body, only to find Spencer in front of you, hair wet from the rain, hands occupied with a bouquet of pastel-colored tulips. Your heart drops into your stomach and you have to blink a few times to make sure that he's actually real and standing right in front of you.

"Spencer." His name falls from your mouth effortlessly and breathily, shocked to see him here. He licks his lips and looks over you once before meeting your eyes, a familiar look within them.

-----

Spencer paces around his apartment, hair disheveled from raking nervous fingers through it. His mind has been consumed with nothing except for you since he saw you at the BAU. Derek's words keep repeating themselves in his head,

"She still thinks that you're with another woman...make your decision on whether you can let her go or not."

He knows his time is running out and yet he's conflicted as to what is the right thing to do. The logical and rational part of him is quick to remind himself that he left for a reason, for your safety. The photographs in the unsub's room flash before his eyes, vividly reminding him of what kind of danger his presence puts you in.

But the aching in his chest yearns for your touch, to hear your laugh. For years he's been able to make sure that you're taken care of from a distance. Some years he would anonymously send tulips to your apartment, and other times he would pay the leasing agent half of your rent so it would be one less thing for you to worry about. Of course, it had taken some convincing to ensure the agent would keep his donations a secret, and as far as he knows the agent kept good on the agreement.

Nervously, Spencer bites the skin around his nails, a battle of reason and emotion waging itself inside his mind. He turns to pace again, but this time his eyes catch a picture that sits on a side table. It's a small photo, taken in the early days of your relationship. Spencer picks up the picture that he's committed to memory, seeing the bright smile on your face, your eyes wrinkles at the sides from happiness, his lips pressed to your cheek and his arms around your waist.

His mind morphs his own body into another man. And now he's seeing that man's arms around your waist, another man's lips on your cheek, and it's almost enough to bring Spencer to his knees. Abandoning the photo, he moves quickly to put his shoes on with newfound purpose.

He's made his decision.

With rushed movements, Spencer makes his way to the florist he frequents for your flowers. It's a race against the clock, he only has five minutes to spare and he hopes that the florist is still there. The rain makes it hard to see the road, it slows traffic and the anxiety bubbles up in his chest.

With one minute to spare, Spencer enters the florist to see the sweet older lady packing up for the day. His entrance startles her, and she jumps.

"Spencer?" She questions, knowing he's not due back for another month at least. He nods his head frantically,

"Yes ma'am, sorry to come by like this but I'm hoping you can help me." He swallows hard, heart pounding in his chest from the adrenaline flowing in his veins. The woman sees his distraught demeanor and gives him a small smile. Of course she'll help him. After all, Spencer is one of her favorite customers; he always leaves her generous tips.

After fifteen minutes, the florist has constructed a beautiful arrangement with all of your favorite colors, tied up with a bow around the stems.

"Good luck." The florist gives him a knowing smile, and he thanks her before rushing over to your apartment. Spencer's fingers tap anxiously on the steering wheel and his chest heaves with nervousness.

He parks his car along the curb and hops out, practically running into the building. There's a small line for the elevators, and he doesn't have time for that. Not when a lifetime with you is at stake. He takes the stairs at record speed and takes a moment to compose himself once he stands at the door.

With a rush of courage, he knocks on the door and waits to hear your footsteps. But instead he's met with silence. He knocks again, a little harder this time and waits. He's met with silence again. Fearing the worst, he digs his phone out of his pocket and calls Derek, who answers on the third ring.

"Listen she isn't here. I'm at the apartment and she's gone. Did she leave already?" Spencer's voice cracks as he asks the dreaded question, but he needs to know. If Derek tells him that you've left, he won't hesitate to take the first flight to Colorado to find you.

"No, she didn't move yet. I called her earlier, she has a reservation. Remember the restaurant you two went to for your first date?" Spencer rushes out a thank you before hanging up, knowing exactly the restaurant. How could he forget?

You were wearing the most beautiful dress that complimented your body well, your hair was loose around your shoulders, and your eyes held the depths of your love. He knew from that exact moment that he would never find a love like yours again.

He parks and haphazardly shoves his keys into his pockets, instead taking care to handle your flowers with the utmost care. His heart thumps heavily in his chest with each step he takes towards the front door.

He runs a hand through his hair as he approaches the hostess stand, and his words come out very rushed. He asks if there's a woman here matching your description, but the hostess is hesitant to answer. He begs her to tell him, insisting that you'll be here waiting for him. The hostess glances between him and the flowers in his hand before nodding and pointing to where you are.

Spencer swallows hard and thanks her, eyes scanning the dimly lit restaurant for you. A couple laughing gains his attention and he can't help but look. And he's thankful he did, for you're sitting right across from them, a sad smile on your face and sorrow in your eyes.

His feet carry him over to you before he can process what he's doing. As if time moves in slow motion, he watches your eyes move up his body before landing on his face. Your eyes grow wide, your jaw goes slack.

He only hopes that you'll listen to what he has to say.

-----

"What are you doing here?" You ask, eyeballing the flowers in his hand; they're oddly reminiscent of the ones you receive on your doorstep every few months.

Of course, he's probably here to meet his girlfriend, or fiancée, or perhaps even wife. A mixture of nausea and confusion hit you like a brick wall but you try your best to maintain your composure while you feel like your insides are melting. Spencer takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours and he finally speaks to you.

"Without you and your love, your touch, your warmth, life is entirely meaningless. Ever since I made the biggest mistake of my life, every day has been like walking through hell. There hasn't been a single day that's gone by that I didn't wish to have you back in my arms or to spend just one more evening with you. And I know this doesn't make up for any of it and I am undeserving of your forgiveness. But, I couldn't let you go without letting you know that I've never stopped loving you." His voice cracks with his confession, and a lone tear rolls down his cheek.

His words sends chills down your spine. What he said just doesn't make any sense. Hadn't he left for someone else? Or perhaps he did and he left her as well, or maybe they're still together and he's just doing this to break your heart one last time. You're conflicted with what you should be thinking and feeling. You had waited for this day for nine years, and now that it's here it doesn't make sense.

"But what about her?" You finally muster up the courage to ask, knowing very well that his answer could break your heart. Spencer shakes his head,

"There was never anyone else." His words sting. Had he left because he fell out of love? Or perhaps he grew bored of you and used a newfound love as an excuse for an easy departure.

The more he speaks, the less you understand. Your eyebrows draw close together in pure confusion, your head shakes and your eyes move from him to the flowers in his hand, another mystery about this situation.

"But you said that you had fallen in love with someone else." You point out, desperately needing some explanation to all of this. Spencer nods his head with a solemn expression.

Instead of answering, he digs some cash out of his pocket and throws it on the table before extending his hand to you, to help you from your seat. The gesture sends your heart soaring, having missed the simplest of touches from him. And no matter how confused you are, you've missed him too much to pass this up. He helps you out of the seat and guides you to the front door with a hand on the small of your back.

A familiar fire within you blooms, one that could only be ignited by Spencer's touch. And with just the slightest contact with him, you feel your frozen heart begin to warm.

Thankfully it appears the rain has stopped, for now at least. The two of you walk slowly beside one another towards the parking lot, something that was once so familiar seems so foreign now. After a few steps you hear Spencer suck in a breath,

"I owe you an explanation." His voice is even, but you can hear his apprehension. You swallow your nerves and agree, wanting to hear every last word he has to say.

-----

By the time you both arrive at the apartment, the sun has fully set and the wind carries a bitter chill with it, piercing through the fabric of your dress. The tension is palpable between the two of you on the elevator ride up, your arms brushing against each other with every little movement.

Your hands tremble as you unlock the door, nervous about being so close to him and what he may tell you. The two of you step through the door and for the first time you see how empty it is, boxes stacked on top of each other throughout the apartment.

Turning around, you watch as Spencer takes in the scene of what his former home now is. Guilt washes over you, but you stay quiet, unsure of what to say. Once he's taken in the apartment, his full attention turns back towards you, his eyes flickering between you and the flowers.

"These are for you." His voice is soft as he hands the flowers to you. You take them, fingers brushing against his as you do.

"Did you- were you the one sending me flowers?" You see the familiar color combinations and arrangement style as the ones you've received off and on for nine years. You had never expected Spencer was the one sending these to you, you had always assumed it was Derek trying to brighten your day. And you had always wondered how Derek knew what your favorite flowers were, but you chalked it up to his profiling skills.

A smile small appears on Spencer's face and he nods. Your heart swells with emotion as it hits you that maybe some of what he said is true, maybe he never has stopped loving you. Not prepared to face all of that just yet, you turn and find a vase to put the flowers in, thankful you hadn't packed them up yet and let them decorate the kitchen counter.

Silence washes over the two of you, but it's short lived as Spencer clears his throat and pulls out a chair at the dining room table. You join him and your blood runs cold as you realize you're sitting in the same places as that day he left. Spencer starts picking at the skin around his nails, opening and closing his mouth as if he can't find the words he's looking for. But you've waited nine years so what's a few more minutes?

"The case I came back from was one of the worst we've ever seen, even to this day." He starts and you nod, leaning forward to soak in every word.

"The unsub had printed out pictures of you hanging from his walls along with the rest of the team. He had a plan to torture each and every one of us, and he was going to use you to hurt me. He had plans to torture you to death." He continues, voice wavering towards the end. Your eyes are glued to Spencer's face as he speaks, never having heard the details of that last case. Derek would never tell you.

"Oh, Spencer." You whisper, wanting so desperately to reach out and comfort him but respecting that he might not want your touch. His eyes glance up to yours, and you see his jaw tense.

"I knew then that my job puts you in too much danger. It was clear that while you were with me that you could be a target for anyone who wanted to get back at us. I couldn't let that happen, I couldn't let someone hurt you because of me." Tears spill down his face and he bites his bottom lip to try and keep his composure. You feel your own lip start to quiver, but you hold it together.

"And I knew if I told you that there was someone else that you wouldn't push the issue. I knew you loved me too much to interfere with my happiness. I used your own love against you and I am so sorry." He sniffles and pushes tears from his eyes.

The two of you cry together, and while you want to be angry because he had lied, you only find yourself feeling overjoyed that he's back; that he wants you back and never fell in love with another. And now knowing that he was still showing his love for you by sending you flowers solidifies that what he's telling you is factual. You only wonder what else he's done that you're unaware of.

Spencer's love runs deep, that much you do know. You're keenly aware that if he went through the trouble of sending you flowers that he was also likely up to other things. But you're okay not knowing, as far as you're concerned, you're just happy he's here.

"I'm so sorry." He cries out again, moving out of his chair and getting on his knees in front of you. You wipe tears from your eyes so you can see him clearly, his glistening eyes beautifully reflecting the light as he envelopes your hands in his.

"I will spend every second of every day earning your love back if that's what it takes. I cannot bear to live this life without you any more, I will do whatever it takes. I love you with every fiber of my being, and I will love you for as many days as there are stars in the sky. As long as the sun rises in the morning and sets every night I will continue to love you. You're the one that completes my soul, you're the one who my heart beats for." Spencer pours his heart out to you as he grips your hands tightly and looks into the depths of your eyes. Your lip trembles as tears continue to stream down your face, unable to contain your overflowing love for the man who kneels in front of you.

Taking your hands back from his, your fingertips graze the soft skin of his cheeks. The familiar warmth brings a smile to your face, one that you never would have thought would come back. You hold the sides of his face, so that you can look at him, really look at him.

His parted lips are wet from tears, his face blushed from crying. Even while he cries on the floor in front of you, he's still the most beautiful man you've ever seen. Unable to hold yourself back, you bring his face to yours and your lips reunite.

It's like the two of you were made for each other, and feeling his lips on yours is like falling back into a familiar rhythm. Spencer stands from the floor and brings you up from your seat, one of his hands wrapping around your waist while the other holds your cheek, bringing you impossibly closer to him.

Your frozen heart warms with a heat long forgotten, and when your lungs burn for air, you pull away and rest your forehead against his. The two of you catch your breath, each unable to keep your hands off of one another. Your eyes meet and you can see the love he holds for you plainly.

This is your Spencer, and he finally came back home. After all these years he finally came back to the place where he left you, the place you had stayed.

-----

"Is that the last one?" You ask, placing books neatly on a shelf. It was a no-brainer that after Spencer came back that you weren't going to move. With him here, there's no place you'd rather be. And so after you had halted your plans, you and Spencer began repiecing your life together.

Turns out, a lot happens in nine years and the two of you spend every moment possible catching up on lost time together. He tells you about some of the most memorable cases, and you tell him about how you made it through in one piece. You both agreed not to spare each other any details, and have agreed to work through whatever issues arise one step at a time and with honesty. And you made Spencer promise that no matter what happens at work, that the two of you will talk and plan together; there's no more running, except for towards each other.

"I think there's one more." He says, showing you the book in his hand before he slides it in the open spot on the shelf. It's the copy of Gone Girl that you had brought into the BAU. Spencer had told you that your theory ended up being right. They found Mrs. Greene as she was staging her alleged kidnapping getaway. And while it wasn't your favorite book, it has a special place in your heart now; without it there's a chance you and Spencer never would have crossed paths again.

You feel Spencer's hands wrap around your waist from behind as he comes back from the shelf, and he hugs you tightly against him, burying his head in the curve of your neck and gently kissing you. Showing affection at every given opportunity has been Spencer's modus operandi. After having lived so long without you, he never wants to stop touching you, or kissing you, or showing you love in any way that he can.

Your eyes flutter shut, soaking in all the love he gives you, placing your hands atop of his and just letting yourself be held by him. Even the smallest moments are cherished now, for you understand their true value.

"I love you." He whispers into your ear before letting you go, and a smile makes its way onto your face while your cheeks heat. Even after nine years he's still able to make you blush like a highschooler with a crush.

"And I love you more." You say, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before moving to pack up the empty boxes that are scattered everywhere.

The two of you stand in the front doorway of your apartment, looking at how everything has come together. Spencer's books are back on their shelves, his blanket is draped over the back of the couch, his clothes back in the dresser, and he's right beside of you. Like it should have always been. Your eyes find one last thing to get rid of alongside the boxes.

Walking over to the dining room table, you rip the stained tablecloth off and crumple it in your hands. This tablecloth holds too many bad, heartbreaking memories to keep it in the place where you two are rebuilding your lives together. Without a second thought, you toss the tablecloth into the trash and you're relieved. Only a short time ago you dreaded the thought of getting rid of it, but now you can't stand the thought of keeping it.

Now it's as if a new light and a fresh breath of life has been given to the apartment. For so long it was representative of all that you had lost, but now it shows you how much you've gained and how far you've come, both of you. Rays of bright sunshine filter in through the sheer curtains, and you take in a deep breath, soul full, content, and at peace.

"We really did it." You breathe out quietly.

"There's only one more thing I can think of that would really make this all come together." Spencer speaks up, and you scrunch your eyebrows together, not seeing anything that you two had forgotten. As you turn to him, you see him kneeling down in front of you on one knee, a small velvet box in his hand.

Your mouth falls open as he opens the box, revealing the most perfect ring you've ever seen. Spencer has a wide smile on his face and a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"My life will never be complete without you by my side, there's nobody on this Earth that can even begin to compare. When I look inside my heart, I can only see you. May I have the honor to take your hand in marriage, will you make me the luckiest man in the world and marry me?" He asks and you nod your head enthusiastically before he can finish the question. Rushing up from the ground, Spencer envelopes you in a hug, lifting your feet off the ground and spinning you around.

As your feet make contact with the ground again, he takes your hand and slides the ring onto your finger. It's a perfect fit. Tears of elation well up in your eyes, and you pull Spencer in for a kiss that's full of love, desire, and passion for him. You both smile into the kiss and only break away to confess your undying love for each other.

"Spencer Reid, you are the love of my life." You say with tears of happiness rolling down your cheek, a wide smile on your face.

"And future Mrs. Reid, you are the reason I wake up every morning, you are the breath in my lungs, and you are the love of my life." He brings you in for another kiss, and you know that you're going to spend every day for the rest of your lives together. No force of man, nor nature, can drive you apart for the love shared between you two runs deep, your souls intertwined with one another for the rest of eternity.

Looking down at the shiny gemstone on your finger, you feel the once fragmented pieces of your heart tie themselves back together, the million pieces seemingly repairable after all. With a smile on your face, you can't wait to marry your soulmate and you're hopeful and grateful for the life you will share together.

- -

Taglist: @spenciesprincess @reedmurdock

#spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #derek morgan #dr spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #taylor swift #taylor swift inspired

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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 3 months

Text

Kinkuary Day 6

AN: Let it be known that this Chris lives in my head rent-free. I know exploring free use with a dominant partner isn't a new concept, but I still don't see it explored as much, so I thought it would be fun to try my hand at it. Especially with the king of the service doms.

Synopsis: Everything sucks. Today might be one of the worst days of your life (and that's against some stiff competition). Fortunately for you, you have a boyfriend who is more than happy to distract you.

General tags and warnings: Christopher Bang/Bang Chan x Fem! Reader, established relationship, some angst early on but, nothing too bad imo, Christopher being the nation's best boyfriend and that's it. This is pretty much porn with very little plot.

Primary kink: Free use.

Smut tags and warnings: Chris struggling to relinquish control lmao but, Soft Dom! Chris nonetheless, sub! Reader but she does take charge quite a bit in this, free use, facesitting, slight overstimulation (f. receiving), piv sex without a condom, dirty talk, lots of praise and petnames because it's Chris, Daddy kink, creampie and nipple play (f. receiving).

Word count: 2k.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

You're surprised you're able to still trudge through your front door after the day you've had. Between completely forgetting about an assignment that was due today, six separate customers yelling at you and your phone screen shattering, saying today has been a bad day would be putting it kindly. You've never wanted to just disappear to a cottage in the countryside more. You're sure you could convince Chris to leave with you.

Speaking of which, the sight of your boyfriend on your shared couch does help ease some of the overall terribleness that has been weighing you down all day. Dropping your bag, you make your way over to him. Wrapping your arms around his broad, solid body while you nuzzle against his neck. His mere presence is enough to relax the tension in your shoulders and soothe the anxiety that never seems to quite go away.

“Hi baby. Didn't know you were home. How was your day?” He asks, taking off his headphones. Placing them and his laptop on your coffee table, which does make you pout a little since he's no longer in your arms. However, he does turn to you and you're struck with just how soft and handsome he looks. That, combined with his question, makes your throat burn and your eyes start to sting.

“Horrible,” you mutter, nestling yourself into his chest and sighing contently when he rubs your back and happily crushes you to his frame. It's easy to forget everything when he holds you like this. All the shitty professors, entitled customers and piles of coursework fade away and there's nothing in your mind but, Chris.

“I'm sorry, baby. Do you want to talk about it? How can I make it better?” God, does he have any idea how irrevocably in love with him you are? Sometimes, you think you might have been some hero in a past life for him to wind up in your life. However, you mull his offer over before an idea finally sets in.

“Lavender?” You ask, blinking up at him and pressing yourself as close to him as humanly possible. Clutching at his simple, thin shirt while you wait for his answer.

“Are you sure? You have had a pretty shitty day so I don't know–”

“Yes, Daddy. I'm sure. So, lavender?” You don't mean to cut him off but, you really do need this right now. His concern is sweet and you always appreciate it but, you just need to shut your brain off for a few hours.

Exhilaration creeps up your spine as you watch the way his face shifts when your words register to him. His hold on you tightening marginally but you notice it all the same.

“Okay, lavender.”

That's all it takes for you to launch yourself into his lap. Nearly toppling both of you over in the process but, Chris steadies you while you make yourself at home in his lap. Holding his face in your hands while you slot your mouth against his. It's messy and more eagerness than anything on your end but, it feels so good to just kiss him again. Chris does try to bring some order into your uncoordinated liplock, guiding your mouth against his while his hands rest on your hips.

Sex wasn't on your mind before you walked through the front door but, now? Grinding down on the hardness you can feel starting to form under you while you explore Chris's mouth? Desire twists like a knife in the pit of your stomach. Your clit throbbing with every clumsy brush against his lap and your walls starting to clench and unclench almost painfully. It's probably some record how quickly your panties become a mess while you hump against Chris for dear life.

“Off please,” you breathe once the two of you separate to catch your respective breaths. Saliva smeared across both of your mouths and you would dive back in if you weren't so focused on getting his shirt off. Luckily for you, Chris is just as impatient as you are so he tugs it off within seconds. Tossing it to be forgotten on your living room floor.

You can't help the moan that bubbles out of you at the sight of his bare chest. You've seen it thousands of times and it still never fails to turn your blood molten. Palming as much of him as your hands can, you litter his neck with kisses and nips. Whimpering into his skin when his hands drift from your hips to grab and knead your ass over your work skirt. His hips shallowly thrusting up into you. Fuck, you're already so tightly wound.

A startled noise leaves Chris when you (gently) shove him onto his back but, he doesn't complain otherwise. Just watches you with a mixture of want and curiosity through his curly hair. His eyes widen when you eventually shuffle up his body until you're hovering over his beautiful face. A shudder runs through you when his tongue darts out to lick his full lips before his dark eyes meet your own again.

You're too desperate to care about getting undressed so, you hurriedly shove your panties to the side before easing yourself onto his face. The first touch his mouth against your drenched, puffy folds sends you reeling. You grab the back of the couch in an attempt to steady yourself but, Chris doesn't give you a chance. Lapping and sucking at you with so much intensity from the get go that you can already feel your thighs starting to quiver.

“Ah, Daddy,” you whimper when he decides to focus all of his attention and energy on your clit. “Fuck, oh my god,” comes your broken moan when he attaches himself to it. Licking and drawing patterns into that you couldn't hope to decipher at the moment when it feels like you're able to break into a million, little pieces soon. It's all so lewd and obscene and hot. The wet sounds of him eating you coupled with your wanton noises of pleasure seeming to echo throughout your entire apartment.

Your hips move on their own accord. Using his unfairly gifted mouth and cute nose to get yourself off. You're practically riding his face at this point and, based on the moans Chris presses into you, he's enjoying this just as much as you are. You know if he had it his way, he'd be using his hands to shove you even further into his face but, he's happy to lay there and let you use him until you're satisfied.

Which doesn't take all that long. Usually, you're pretty good at being able to tell when you're about to orgasm but, this time it catches you completely off-guard. A jumbled mess of ‘Daddy’ and ‘Chris’ fall from your lips as your body convulses. Your fingernails dig into the couch so fiercely that for a fleeting moment you're worried you might have ruined it.

Chris doesn't allow your mind to wonder for too long, though. Licking your gushing wetness like it's the first bit of liquid he's had in days while his nose brushes your throbbing clit. Your thighs shake and tightening around his head as the familiar burn of overstimulation starts to settle in the apex of your thighs and creep to your extremities.

“Da–Daddy,” you choke out, winding your hand into his hair and tugging his mouth away from you, “To–Too much,” you finish with a great deal of effort. Using all of your strength to move off of him until you're hovering over him. Your respective, unsteady breathing all that can be heard.

Cracking an eye open to look at him is a grave mistake. Between his wild eyes, unruly hair, flushed cheeks and full, bruised lips covered in you, you never stood a chance. And the sporadic clenching and unclenching of your still not filled pussy helps make that abundantly clear.

Chris watches you while you shift down his body. Air catching in his lungs when your hands reach for the waistband of his sweats and impatiently tug them down. He's so hard and a teasing dribble of pre-cum leaks from his tip that you can't help yourself from bending down and licking it.

“Fu–Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, throwing his head back while his hands clench and unclench at his sides. Cute. His hips just barely jerk up in search of more relief from your mouth but, you don't give him the satisfaction. You have other plans in mind.

Grabbing his thick cock, you guide it to your dripping entrance. Just barely able to keep your eyes open to watch him as you sink down onto him. You lose that battle very quickly. Your eyes fluttering shut with every inch of him you sink down on until he's fully inside of you. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You can already feel tears building up at the corners of your eyes just at the sheer fullness you feel right now.

“–so tight. Such a good girl. Always so fucking good,” Chris's words bring you back down for a moment and you blink your bleary eyes open to look at him. Your walls clamp down on him harshly when the sight of your sweaty, flushed boyfriend greets you. That's all the prompting you need to start a brutal pace. His cock just opens you up so deliciously that you can't help but bounce on it. The sounds of your skin hitting his and the filthy squelching between your thighs nearly drowning out your shared noises of pleasure.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” you chant, impatiently tugging open your work shirt and shoving down your bra until your breasts are finally free. Chris's eyes burn as they watch you palm your tits and tug on your nipples until you're just barely able to focus on fucking yourself stupid on him. “I feel so good, Daddy. Your cock makes me feel so full,” you whimper after an especially harsh twist of your nipples.

“Yeah?” He pants out, his dark locks starting to stick to his sweaty forehead while his eyes struggle to pick between looking at your beautiful face, your hands toying with yourself or his cock disappearing inside of your scorching pussy. “Does my princess like using Daddy to get herself off, hmm? Does it feel good to fuck yourself on Daddy's cock while he just lies here? Tell me, baby.”

“Y-Yes, so good, Daddy. Your cock feels ah fuck so amazing, Daddy. You feel so good, Daddy.” You whine, one of your hands snaking its way between your thighs to rub against your swollen clit. A fractured moan bubbling out of your throat while you rub frantic circles against yourself and try to maintain the pace you set on Chris's cock.

“That's good. You look so pretty using me to get yourself off, sweetheart,” he coos, giving you a smile so soft that you can feel your heart grow in your chest while your release grows closer and closer. “Are you going to cum, baby? Gonna cum all over my cock, beautiful? Hmm? I want you to. Wanna see you cum so badly. Wanna feel you make a mess all over me.”

And just like that you feel your entire body seize. You're not even aware of what's coming out of your mouth right now but, you can't bring yourself to care. Your vision blurs at the edges while your entire body shudders. It takes every ounce of you not to completely collapse ontop of him while you ride out the waves that keep crashing into your limp body.

“–my girl,” is all you hear in the distance before you feel his large hands grab your hips and something warm filling your spasming walls. Opening your eyes with a great deal of effort, you're greeted with the sight of a panting, fucked out Chris. His cock pulsing inside of you with every rope of cum that shoots out of it. That does eventually prompt you to collapse onto his sturdy chest. Nuzzling into his neck while your shared releases start to leak out of you.

“Feel better?” He asks, rubbing your back soothingly while pressing featherlight kisses against your forehead.

“Yes, thank you. I love you,” you mutter tiredly into his skin, pressing yourself as close to him as you can.

“I love you too, baby,” are the last words you hear before succumbing to the fatigue that's been calling you all day.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

Kinkuary Masterlist | Stray Kids Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

#bang chan smut #chan smut #stray kids smut #christoper bang smut #chris bang smut #bang chan x reader smut #chan x reader smut #stray kids x reader smut #christopher bang x reader smut #chris bang x reader smut

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darylbrainrot · 3 months

Text

Cold winters ᯓ★

Gojo x F! Reader (8.4k word count)

⋆ SYPNOSIS: you and a classmate get assigned to work on a project together only for your feelings to progress the more you work together.

⋆ INFO: fem reader, modern au, no curses, fluff, classmates to lovers, self-consious thoughts from reader, not proof read, gojo might be ooc, cursing.

You seemed to enjoy cold winters—the snow dusting the ground and creating a seemingly dream-like atmosphere. The only thing you disliked about these snowy times was the countless couples seeming to show up and appear out of nowhere. Shoving their relationships into your face (they were just holding hands) pointed out how you felt lonely with nobody to share your body heat in an attempt to keep warm in these harsh times. Yet your countless failed relationships or situationships confirmed your struggles to find someone interested in you as much as you were interested in them.

This was until a certain blue-eyed boy showed up in the equation; he was cute, of course. You thought nothing more of it, knowing that it wouldn't lead to anything. This was just wishful thinking on your part, believing you would have a chance with him despite the countless number of girls fawning over him—countless prettier girls than you thought.

You met him in one of your high school classes; you actually had him in most of your periods. Your 7th-period teacher has assigned a project with assigned partners, and you were assigned with him. You only had minor conversations with him; most of them were him asking you for help since he wasn't paying attention and was just messing around with his friends. Yet now you'd have to work with him both outside and inside of school to finish this project, which was worth a lot of your grade. You weren't really looking forward to it, thinking that you'd have to do most of the work with him slacking off, yet you still had hope for at least a decent grade.

December 4th.

"You guys will be working on a project with assigned partners; your partners will be shown on the screen, so get to work. This will be due at the end of the month and will be a big percentage of your grade." Your teacher says, You turn to the screen to look for your partner. Scanning through a list of names of your classmates, you find yours: "y/n & gojo." You read through your squinted eyes while trying to search for your name. You were hoping I'd be at least one of your friends from this period, yet you get someone known for being a class clown—someone who doesn't necessarily pay attention… You're hoping it wasn't bad. Being too caught up in your own thoughts, you didn't realize Gojo was making his way toward you.

"Heyyy y/n…" he said, with, of course, an alter motive clear in his voice. "yes, gojo?" You stare at him as he makes his way in front of your table while dragging a chair behind him and placing it in front of you. "You know I appreciate you and respect you, right?" He grins, batting his lashes at you. "Gojo, I'll do most of the work if you at least put some effort into it." You sigh at his antics, moving to put your check into the palm of your hand. "Deal!" he grins at you. "What's your number, y/n? I want to be able to text you if I need help on this project…" He grins at you once again, this smile of his always making your stomach turn. "Oh, uh, do you have your phone on you? I can just type it in if it's okay with you." He nods towards you, gravitating to reach for his phone to give it to you.

"Here you go." He passes the phone to you with the new contact page open already, going to grab his phone while typing your number into it. "Uh, if you have questions or anything, you can just text me. We should set up a day to meet up so we can try to finish this as early as possible so we won't have to worry about it later on." You look at him only to find his eyes already on you. "Is this a way of asking me out on a date?" He smirks at you. "You wish; I just want to get this assignment over." "Yeah, yeah, whatever." He frowns slightly, this action going unnoticed by you.

December 6th.

It was finally Friday. Thank the gods. You had finished a bit less than half of the project with Gojo only doing anything, yet it was Gojo. What did you expect? You dreaded going into your 7th period, knowing Gojo would just be bugging you for most of the period, barely allowing you to do at least some of the work to be considered on track. As your 6th-period bell rang, signaling that you should head toward your 7th period, you started to head toward your class, attempting to avoid other students who were just being loud in the hallway. A stark contrast to your character.

As you entered your class and headed towards your seat, you found Gojo already there, awaiting your arrival. You found him with his head down on the desk next to yours. As you got to your seat, you got your laptop and materials from your bag and placed them on your table. Only now do you realize the soft snores leaving Gojo. Realizing he is asleep, you try your best to keep quiet. This can at least allow you to do some work while Gojo keeps quiet.

As you pull up the assignment on your now-opened laptop, you notice Gojo stirring in his sleep. This was a sign for you to stop your movements, trying to keep quiet, although the whole class was loud— you were surprised at how Gojo can nap in such a loud environment. You kept your eyes on him for a while, looking for when he'd stop moving. As he stopped moving, you turned your eyes back onto your shared document with Gojo. When you decided to finish one of your slides that was half done, you were too focused on gathering your research and typing it down to realize that you were reaching the end of the period.

The end of the 7th period bell alerts you. At the end of this period, you start to pack your things away, only to still find Gojo asleep. You were at least glad your next and final period was a free one, finding this as an opportunity to finish other work and to relax for a while. But Gojo still had a period next; you attempted to wake him up to no avail.

"Gojo, wake up; it's 8th period now, and you're going to be late." You shake him only for him to finally stir in his sleep. "5 more minutes." His voice was groggy from his nap. "No extra minutes; you have to wake up." "I don't want to…" his head still in his folded arms on the desk. "Well, you have to; you literally have like… 3 more minutes to get to your next class, gojo." As you say that, he finally lifts his head off of the desk and looks at you with a pout. "Aren't you going to be late? Or do you care so much about me that you don't care about that?" he says as he makes fake kissing noises to mock you. "Okay, shut up, dude. I have a free period next, but I know you don't, so wake up and get going." He yawns as he stands up, grabbing his bag in the process.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he says as he drags the 'r. ' You start to head towards the door before Gojo beats you to it and opens the door for you. "Ladies first." He winks at you while you give him a deadpan look, and despite your seemingly reactionless response, you can't help but feel the flutter that's caused in your stomach. Your own body is sabotaging you.

"Thanks," you mutter under your breath as you exit the class. "Since today is Friday, would you want to go to a cafe to try and finish the project?" Gojo asks, with a slight tint of blush covering his face; this also goes unnoticed by you once again. "Sure, just text me when and where." You turn towards him with a slight smile gracing your lips as you turn back around to start heading toward your own destination. Once you turned around, you couldn't help but smile a bit more, knowing this was just a study session, nothing more and nothing less, but you still couldn't help but feel a bit happy knowing he was the one who asked you.

It was finally the end of the day, and you were feeling eager, awaiting a text from Gojo. Yeah, you felt a bit silly waiting for him to text you, but you're just a girl. What? Can't a girl dream anymore? Call it delusions or whatever, but you noticed your feelings growing over time working with him. His small mannerisms rubbed off on you so much that even your own friends noticed. A vibration from your phone caused you to snap out of your thoughts and look at the new notification, only to find it was from Gojo, speaking of the devil.

(xxx)-xxx-xxxx: hey its gojo, I was wondering if you wanted to meet up right now and go to the cafe that's a couple blocks down?

y/n: yeah thats fine with me, meet me in front of school?

quickly saving his contact, you await his response, only for him to respond in a matter of seconds.

gojo: c u there :)

You checked the time; it was 3:25 as you started heading towards the front of the school from where you were originally. Trying to get there slowly so you can find Gojo first rather than him finding you.

You finally exit the school doors and find Gojo leaning on the wall right next to the doors. As you start making your way towards him, he looks up from his phone to look at you. "you ready?" He asks, the sun hitting his tinted lenses, making his eyes barely visible. "Yeah, which cafe are we going to? I didn't know there was one nearby.." "We're going to this small cafe by here; it's pretty good, but I've only been there once." You nod as you start to follow Gojo towards the cafe.

On your way there, you had small talk; there was silence, of course, but it was nothing uncomfortable—you welcomed that silence because it was nice. After awhile, you noticed it started getting cold. You started to regret not bringing a sweater to school today, as the winters were getting colder by the second. You started to slightly tremble, wrapping yourself in your own hands to try to create the warmth that you so desperately needed. Gojo noticed this and decided to take off his sweater and hand it to you.

“Here, take it.” His hand was right in front of you, with his sweater in hand. You wanted to wear it, but, I mean, hell freeze to death as well. “I can't; you’d be cold too, Gojo." You turn to face him with worry displayed on your face. "Nah, I’ll be fine; you need it more than me—I mean, you're practically shivering. The cafe isn’t that far, and I don’t want you to get sick 'cause we have to finish the project.” At this point, you both stopped in your tracks. A sigh left your lips as you took his sweater and put it on.

You let out a barely audible thanks to him; it would go unnoticed by those not paying attention—yet Gojo's attention was all on you, yet you never noticed.

“This is the cafe; it’s pretty small, but I think it's pretty good.” He winks at you, flutters erupting in your stomach, yet you think nothing of them. Just you wishing they’d go away. He goes to open the door for you, muttering a soft thanks under your breath as you enter.

You felt warmth immediately welcome you in this cafe; it was homey; it was particularly small, with open space and windows at the front of the cafe, with a table right by the window. It had a light brown interior with darker brown accents, with paintings and pictures adorning the walls. This and the green plants and flowers that were all over the corners and counters. It was, honestly, a very pretty and nice establishment for one so small.

“This is really pretty gojo; where do we sit?”

“We can sit by the windows; it's a nice view outside, so I think it’ll be nice.” You hum in agreement as you make your way to the table by the windows and place your things down. “Should we go order now?”

"Yeah, lets just look over the menu first before hand.” As you both looked up behind the workers counter to find the menu behind them, you were trying to figure out what to order before deciding to order a matcha latte and a chocolate croissant. You turned your attention towards Gojo to see if he was still contemplating what to order, only to find him thinking extra hard about his decision, finding it funny how the only time he pays decent attention is when it doesn’t regard any school work.

“You decided what to get yet?” You asked Gojo, "Uhhh… I think I might get some kikufuku and a hot chocolate; what about you?”

"Uh, I'm just going to get a chocolate croissant and a matcha latte.”

You both start heading towards the registers to order, with Gojo saying both of your orders. As the cashier starts to read out the cost, you reach into your pocket to grab your wallet, only for Gojo to beat you to it, paying for both of your orders. After the transaction, you both returned to the table to wait for your order to be called.

“Gojo, why’d you pay for both of us? I could’ve paid for my half.”

“It's fine; I mean, I was the one to offer to come here, so it is only a man’s obligation to pay.”

"Let me pay you back at least; I feel bad making you pay for my half." You frowned, feeling bad that he had paid for your order. "The way you can pay me back is for us to finish the project." He has that shit-eating grin on his face, the one he has on his face while poking fun at others. You grunt in response, reaching into your bag to take out your laptop to continue with your work.

"I was able to get some slides done from my part today, but you're gonna have to do a couple of the slides from your part.” As Gojo was about to speak, he got interrupted by the person calling our order.

“Order for Gojo!”

“I'll be right back.” Gojo grins at you. Your eyes follow his person as he walks up to the counter and gets your orders. You can clearly see the cashier trying to flirt with him, trying to make any advancements toward Gojo. You were glad you couldn’t make out what either of them was saying; you knew if you could, you’d get upset. Do you know why? Yeah, it was because you liked Gojo; it was clear now, and you hated it. It would have been stupid to get upset at a girl trying to flirt with him; I mean, you both weren’t even together. But you understood her; he was handsome, and she was also pretty. You were thinking that if you were as pretty as her, if you were that confident, maybe you’d have a chance with Gojo. caught up in your own thoughts that left a bad taste in your mouth, you didn’t realize Gojo was making his way back towards you. You were too busy being spaced out and caught up in your own thoughts, thoughts that you so very much hated.

“You good, y/n?” You were still spaced out, too focused on the worker behind the counter to realize Gojo. He cleared his throat; that was the thing that managed to catch your attention. "Huh?" You say, now staring at Gojo.

"I asked if you were okay; you were spaced out." "Oh, yeah, I'm okay. Did you get our order?" He nods at you while passing you your order as he places his down on the table by his seat. He takes his seat across from you and takes out his laptop as well, getting ready to "do" some work. (He won't do work.)

"We can probably finish a couple of more slides today, so we won't be behind on our work. We should probably do about two slides each? I think that would be good enough so we won't be behind." He hums in agreement, reaching for his hot chocolate to take a sip from.

"What even is this project about?" He says, taking another sip of his hot chocolate afterward. Your face goes blank at his idiocy; you honestly can't believe he got so far in high school. I mean, you were seriously doubting his abilities as of now.

"Are- Are you being serious?" You attempted to hold back your laugh at his simple idiotic actions, yet your attempt is in vain. You're now full-blown laughing, not even trying to hide how hysterical you find his stupidity.

"Oh my god— you're so hopeless!" You're holding your stomach in pain from your laughter; you can't even contain the tears from falling. Those tears of laughter basically taunt Gojo for his lack of intelligence. "What? It's not that funny." He huffs in an attempt to heal his bruised ego.

"Okay, I'll stop. I'm sorry, Gojo." You still had that grin on your face, although you were 'apologizing' for your actions. "We're just doing a group project about ideas for a new software application. Like doing research on our idea, putting down evidence on why this would be a good software idea, and explaining how it would help others. We have a doc that the teacher shared with us; did you not see it?" You ask, still having a grin plastered on your face from making fun of Gojo's lack of intelligence.

He scoffs, trying to play off the incident that just happened. "Yeah, of course I did; I was just seeing if you knew what we were doing." He attempted to gather whatever there was of his shattered ego, clearly and very painfully failing at this attempt as well.

"uh huh."

You grin at his antics, finding them quite funny—and quite endearing as well.

"Okay, well, we should get to work. Ask me if you have any questions or anything else. You have the shared in the gmail I sent you." You say, followed by you taking a bite out of your chocolate croissant, savoring the sweet taste of it. Gojo hums in agreement as quietness follows, both of you—well, at least you—in deep concentration on the work in front of you.

You didn't notice how much time had passed until you checked your phone; it was now 6:50, and it's gotten way darker than it was when you got to the cafe with Gojo.

You sighed as you ran your hands through your hair with a small "shit" muttered under your breath. Gojo caught your disturbance and looked at you through his tinted glasses. "What happened?" You hummed as you turned your attention to him. You nodded to the window, showing how dark it had gotten outside.

"I just noticed how late it is, and I gotta walk home too. I think I have to go home now before it gets darker." Gojo stands as he notices you standing as well, wrapping up your items and placing them into your bag. Going to throw away your finished drink and food before Gojo cuts you from your tracks.

"Let me walk you home; it's too dark for you to walk alone, y/n." You turned to face him, finding his eyes already on your figure. "You honestly don't have to; I'll feel bad enough for making you walk me home while you also paid for me."

"You're not making me walk home if I offered." He has that smirk on his face, the one he always has on. "You don't have to gojo, like, honestly." "Well, I want to, so let's get going; lead the way." You grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder while grabbing your trash, as Gojo threw his a while ago. As you started making your way towards the door leading out, Gojo was there, holding the door open for you. Muttering a small thanks as you left the small establishment.

You started leading the way to your house; it was only about 10 minutes away from the school, so you started to head to your school and then to your house. Gojo is right next to you, him being the one that's closest to the road. As you reached the school, you realized you still had Gojo's sweater on, which he lent you on the way to the cafe. You felt a feeling crash over you, your cheeks growing a slight tint of color, although it was already flushed due to the cold—caught in your own silly thoughts of Gojo, all this because of a sweater he lent you. Just a kind action, nothing more, yet you can't help but be stuck in your own thoughts. You didn't realize Gojo caught onto your little actions—not your thoughts swooning over him, but your demeanor. Your reddened cheeks, being stuck in your own mind more and more often, and seemingly being in your own little world—in a kind and soft reverie.

His eyes were on you, hyperfocused on you and only you. Thinking you were some sort of angel only for him and nobody else, he knew that was false; you weren't his, but he wished you were. Time passed so fast with both of you stuck in a reverie of each other. You didn't even notice the fact you'd arrived at your home, only figuring you were there when you were right in front of your house.

You sighed as you saw the familiar figure of your home, signaling that you had no more time to spend with Gojo. Breaking the silence with you taking off his sweater and handing it to him.

"Thanks for walking me home, paying for my things at the cafe, and lending me your sweater, Gojo." A smile graced your lips as you recalled those events as you handed him his sweater back. Although they just happened today, you were already reminiscing about them. "Yeah, of course, y/n." You nod in his direction before remembering something.

"Text me when you get home, Gojo; make sure to be safe." He nods at your request before walking off to his house as you enter your own.

About 15 minutes later, you received a text from Gojo.

Gojo: i just got home rn

Gojo: i hope u enjoyed that cafe too

Grinning at his text was nice; although it was nothing special, it was nice knowing he remembered to text you when he got home.

y/n: i actually did enjoy that cafe a lot actually! it was nice, and again, thanks for paying for me

y/n: next time let me pay for both of us to make it up to u pls

Shit—you didn't mean to make that second text sound like that. Was that you coming off too hard? Does it make you sound desperate, wanting to have another study hall with him? Maybe he's going to find you strange for assuming there is going to be a next time? A thousand thoughts are racing through your mind at 100 miles per hour. You were getting anxious at what Gojo's reply was going to be; maybe he didn't see it like you're seeing it, and you're just overreacting.

Gojo: is this ur attempt at asking me on a date ;)

That fucking asshole, knowing him, this is a total him response.

y/n: fuck off bro, u wish i was

Gojo: yeah, i do wish u were asking me on a date.

Fuck. Is he being serious? Maybe you're just overanalyzing it; maybe he meant it as a joke, but that couldn't help your stomach erupt in butterflies. Suddenly, a confidence you didn't even know you had took over, deciding to play with this act of his cocky personality.

y/n: since im not asking you on a date, y dont u ask me on one instead?

Little did you know Gojo was going crazy behind his screen just like you; you felt like a teenage girl fawning over her first boyfriend. Gojo could be in the exact same predicament as well.

Gojo: hmmm, i guess ur right

Gojo: would u like to go on a date with me then, y/n?

You couldn't believe your eyes right now; things were happening way too fast. You couldn't even adjust yourself to how fast things were going. Well, technically, not fast, but seemingly fast enough for you to stress out.

y/n: sure then :)

y/n: lmk when and where?

Gojo: ill lyk then, y/n

You honestly couldn't believe your very own eyes. This felt as if it wasn't real, as if it was just one of your dreams where you got the boyfriend of your dreams.

December 16th

It was already December 16th, and you and Gojo had already finished your project. It was surprising, but you both started spending more and more time together after that study hall you had together. Today was also the date Gojo had planned; you were going to Gojo's house and watching shows, baking, and just spending time together. It was nothing big, but it didn't matter to you; as long as you were with Gojo, it felt like it was the best day.

You were getting ready for him to pick you up in his car; it was surprising when you first saw it until you remembered that his family was well off money-wise. You just wore some casual clothes, not trying to make it seem you were trying too hard. You were in your room waiting for Gojo's text, signaling that he was outside, ready for you.

Gojo: im outside :)

y/n: omw

You bid farewell to your family, telling them you'd be back later on and that you were going over to a friend's house. Leaving the front door of your house, you found Gojo waiting right in front of your house by the passenger seat, ready to open the door for you. As he saw you, he waved at you with a smile on his face.

"Thanks, Gojo," he said, smiling at him as he opened the door for you to take your seat in his car. He hums in response as he turns to go to the driver's seat. As the car sank with his added weight, he was making adjustments to the car's heater to make sure it was warm enough for the both of you.

A nice atmosphere filled the car as Surf by wave to earth was playing in the background, adding a calming sense to everything. It was a nice night out—cold, snowy, and calm. You hummed along to the lyrics, as this was one of your favorite songs by wave to earth. You remembered bringing it up to Gojo once; maybe that's why it's playing now. Maybe he remembered your favorite song and played it just for you.

As Gojo started to pull into the driveway of his house, he told you to wait in the car as he went to open the door. It was a cute action he took, always making sure to open doors for you—something you found endearing. As he opened the door, you thanked him for opening the car door for you.

"What do you wanna do first?" He asked, making his way to the front door with you following close behind him, making sure to walk carefully to avoid tripping on any of the ice. "Hmmm, wanna bake first?" you said, tilting your head at him, although he couldn't see you since his back was facing you. He hummed in agreement.

He went to the front door, taking out his keys quickly and opening the door, waiting for you to walk in first before he entered. Locking the door behind him and placing his keys on the small table by the door. Taking off his shoes as you followed suit and placing them on the shoe rack. You followed him as he showed you where the kitchen was.

"Do we even know what we're gonna bake?" smiling softly at the total clueless actions of the both of you, both of you getting too far ahead of the details in the excitement of today. "Oh, you're right." He deadpans, realizing his flaw in this plan.

"Uh, we can make brownies? I think I have a brownie mix around here somewhere." Scratching his head as he tries to remember where he last placed the brownie mix when he decided to make something sweet to tame his sweet tooth, only for him to figure out he was too lazy to make it for himself; he found this as the perfect opportunity to make it.

“Found it!” He exclaimed as his hand held the box of brownie mix. You smiled at his goofy antics—just anything he does you find cute. “What do the instructions say?” You asked Gojo as you rolled your sleeves up. "Uh, it's asking to preheat the oven to 350." He said, squinting at the instructions on the back while you hummed with his answer, you went to preheat the oven as he placed the mix down.

"What pan do we use?" You were asking as you started pressing buttons on the oven. "We can use this glass one." He said this as he was searching the cabinets for a good-sized container. Humming in agreement, you put the pan beside the oven. You went to grab the mix to read the next instruction. "We need two eggs, 1/4 cup of water, and… a half of oil. Could you grab me that?" He hummed as he went to the refrigerator to grab the eggs. Once he grabbed them, he placed them at the counter. He then grabbed the measuring cup, oil, and water and placed them beside the eggs.

"what's next?" He says this, looking over your shoulder, his breath hitting your ear. "We mix all the things together with the mix." Gojo hums going to grab a decent-sized bowl so everything can fit. Once he found one, he went back to you and placed it on the counter between you both.

"You get the eggs, and I'll measure out the oil and water." You said this as you started to pour the mix into the bowl. He began cracking the eggs on the counter and opening it above the bowl. The only thing he was doing wrong was getting a bunch of eggshells in the bowl. You caught him trying to take them out of your peripheral vision, so you turned your attention on him.

"Gojo, how did you manage to fail the most simple task?" A small smile was evident on your face, growing by the second into a full-blown smile, taunting him. "It's not my fault! The egg was being stubborn." He huffs, trying to convince himself more than you that the egg was why this happened. You sort of forgot Gojo was well off; that's probably why he's not that used to cooking for himself. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you big baby," you giggle at how he looks—as if he's trying to murder that egg for not "cooperating" with him.

After that, things went sort of smoothly. You guys put oil on the glass pan before spreading the brownie mix on the pan. As he was pouring the brownie mix into the pan, you were just watching him; he looked the most focused doing this. As if this is some really important life-or-death action—his tongue slightly sticking out, a habit you've seen him do more than once when he's deep in concentration. His brows were slightly furrowed, creating creases on his forehead between his brows, and his eyes were narrow and deep in concentration on the task at hand. Although he was doing the most basic task known to man, you thought he looked quite celestial to you, as if the gods had bestowed him on you and only you to view. As if he were an important painting made out of gold hanging in an art museum, only meant for your eyes to see and enjoy.

He noticed your quietness when he finished trying to spread the mix evenly. He thought maybe something was wrong, so he turned to glance at you. Only for him to find you staring deeply into his features as if he were food a starving man has been absent from. The thought of you being so caught in your own thoughts about him made him feel warm and flushed. His checks, proving this as a pink dusted his pale checks, adding some warmth to his features. He then turned back to the container of brownie mix he had long forgotten about when he caught you staring. He cleared his throat to try to calm down the sudden butterflies he felt just then.

This also seemed to snap you out of your thoughts as you turned your attention to the pan filled with brownie mix. As if on queue, the oven beeped to signal that it was done preheating and was ready for the dish.

"Are you done with the brownies?" tilting your head as you waited for his response. He let out a small "mhm" as if he didn't trust his own words right now. You went to grab the pan in front of him and placed it in the oven. You went back to your place next to him as you looked for your phone to place a 35-minute timer.

As you were going to grab your phone from its place on the counter, you dropped it onto the floor. You muttered a small fuck under your breath, wishing and praying it didn't leave any new cracks on your phone. As you went to bend down to grab it, you didn't notice how Gojo placed his hand on the counter corner to prevent you from hurting yourself on it.

"Ima set a timer for 35 minutes; you wanna watch a movie meanwhile?" Your phone is now in your hand as you stod up, looking for the timer app on your phone to set the timer on. "Sure, what type of movie?" He made his way to the living room as you followed him while setting the timer.

"Hm—how 'bout a Disney movie? You pick the movie, though." Gojo laughs at how you recommended a Disney movie. Sure, there's nothing wrong with that, but he expected you to say something like a horror movie; a Disney movie seemed out of character for you.

As you both sat down next to each other on the couch, Gojo started to scroll through the Disney+ account he had, looking through some options before he stopped at one. He picked Frozen to watch, and you weren't really surprised. You thought he gravitated to that movie because maybe he and Elsa were related; maybe they were both long-lost twin siblings.

As he clicked on the movie, he started to get himself comfortable on the couch; he seemingly fused with the couch. As the first couple of minutes started playing, you couldn't help but feel your eyelids get heavy and droopy. You felt yourself slip more and more into slumber, so you just laid your head on Gojo's shoulder to get more comfortable. You didn't think anything of it, but Gojo's mind was on fire right now, man. If you could look at him right now, his face was full of a flushed look just because of this small action.

Your breath started to slow down, your breaths becoming shallow, and Gojo realized you had given into your sleep. Gojo decided to get himself in a position where you wouldn't wake up with a sore neck and wouldn't be uncomfortable in your nap. Soft snores left your parted lips now, although you would've hated Gojo knowing you snore in your sleep. Gojo still can't help but find this cute and endearing. He felt almost proud? Proud in the sense that you felt comfortable enough around him to let your guard down and let yourself sleep on him.

A third of the movie passed when your alarm finally rang; you weren't awakened by it, though. Gojo reached for your phone and shut off your alarm as he slowly laid you down on the couch as he went to the kitchen to take the brownies from the oven. Once he came back from the kitchen, he found you sitting up, stretching your limbs as you yawned, rubbing your eyes after you were done with your quick stretch.

"How long was I asleep?" Your voice came out groggy with a light rasp to it, and your hair from the side you were lying on was slightly messy compared to the other side. "Like 30 minutes, I think? Maybe slightly less, but you knocked out after a bit of the movie." Gojo said as he made his way to you, sitting next to you.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Gojo." You yawned again, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. "Your fine, y/n. Are you still sleepy?" Gojo had a lopsided grin, and you clearly looked half awake. You hummed, and you scratched your neck. It seemed as if you just woke up from the best nap you've ever taken. Maybe it was the best nap you took. Maybe it was because Gojo was here with you.

"You wanna take another nap in my room? It'll be more comfortable for you."

"You sure? I don't want to intrude much."

"Why would I ask if I didn't mean it?" He chuckles. You always seemed to ask if he was sure about things he was clearly sure about. He stood up, waiting for you to follow him to his room on the second floor of his house. As you followed him close behind as he made his way up the stairs, once you reached his room, he opened the door for you. It was decorated with a light gray wash on the walls, wooden furniture adorning the walls for storage, and different-sized posters and paintings covering the walls. His room wasn't messy, but there were a couple of clothes piles on his floor. You felt as if his room was a great match for him and his personality, as if it suited him perfectly.

As you made your way to his bed, you shoved your face into his cold pillow, finding it comfortable and refreshing. "Hey y/n?" You hummed as you turned your head to face him. "Yeah?" "You wanna stay over?" You seemed stunned; you didn't really expect him to ask you that; you wouldn't mind staying over with Gojo.

"Actually?" "Of course, why would I ask you if I didn't mean it?" he smiles.

"Sure, I'll stay over, but I'm just going to let my family know." You reached into your pocket to find your phone to text your mom that you were going to stay the night at your friend's house. "Thanks for letting me stay over; your bed is way more comfortable than mine. I don't wanna let this opportunity slip by." Your voice coming out muffled due to your face being stuffed into his pillow again. You already claimed his bed even though it wasn't even yours. I mean, he was okay with it, of course; he's okay with anything if you ask.

"So you just decided to claim my bed?" "Hell yeah, this shit is way too comfortable to pass on, man." He grunts in reply, scooting you to the side as he lies next to you now. "What are you doing?" Your face is finally out of the pillow, and you are now looking at his face, which was staring at yours. "Well, this is my bed, is it not? I'm not gonna sleep on that floor, so you better make space on MY bed." You roll your eyes as your face goes back to laying on the pillow.

A few minutes go by before you start to slightly snore, your face facing Gojo. He felt like a creep; he was just staring at your sleeping figure, admiring you. Sure, it might seem creepy, but it wasn't intended to be creepy. He looked at your slightly parted lips, hair falling from behind your ear, how your chest went up and down with your breaths, and how you'd move slightly to get more comfortable every so often. He didn't even notice him dozing off into slumber as well, he was too focused thinking of you. You were on his mind as he was awake and now as he drifted to sleep.

It was now the next morning and gojo was the first to wake up. He woke up with you in his arms, he wondered if you noticed this too. He felt flustered as if he was just a prepubescent boy who just got their first girlfriend. He slowly removed his arms from your figure as he went downstairs to figure out what to make you and him for breakfast.

He knew he couldn't trust his cooking skills so he resulted to just order food for the both of you. He ordered you and him breakfast from some nearby fast food restaurant with a good breakfast. As he waited for the food to get here, you started to make your way down the stairs.

"Gojo?" Your voice comes out groggy and raspy. "I'm over here," Gojo says, his voice coming out loud so you can know where he is. You followed where his voice came from, finding him in the living room sitting down on one of the couches scrolling on his phone. He looked up from his phone taking in your barely awake appearance. "How did you sleep?" He asks, well based on your appearance you slept pretty well. "Hella good dude, your beds fucking comfortable." Yawning as you made your place next to him.

"By the way, I ordered some breakfast for the both of us," He tells you since he assumed that maybe you were hungry. "Really? Thanks, where did you order from?"

"I ordered from Dunkin', is that okay?" He hears an audible gasp from you. "Hell yeah, dunkin' breakfast is my favorite man." You had a grin on your face, clearly enjoying that he bought you food.

"What did you order?"

"I got you a sourdough sandwich and a matcha latte, is that okay?" That grin on your face only growing more, he assumed maybe because you liked the food he got you. "Oh my god, you're the best person to exist right now, that's literally what I always get." He laughs at this, glad he got you something you liked.

"I think the food should be getting here in like, 3 minutes?" Those 3 minutes went by fast as now you both were sitting in the kitchen enjoying your food. You looked as if you were starving by the way you were eating your sandwich, although you might've found it embarrassing how you were eating right now— he thought the opposite, he thought you looked quite cute.

As you both were finishing up your food and drinks, you thanked gojo for buying your food and persisted in paying him back. He, of course, denied your pleas. You sighed and gave up on begging him to let you pay him back.

You two were now relaxing in the living room, watching some random show on the television yet you two weren't really invested in it. You were both just having a conversation about anything and anything coming to mind. Amidst your conversation, Gojo brought up how you can just call him his first name, you agreed with this as you found it more fitting now. The room fills with both of your voices with occasional laughter erupting from both of you. Both of you clearly enjoyed each other's presence, whether it was quite or loud, you just enjoyed spending time with each other. As it became quite, you realized you should probably go home now. Sighing in realization you broke the silence.

"Hey Satoru, I think I have to head home now." You frowned slightly, not wanting to go home as you were spending quality time with him. Gojo hums in acknowledgment, feeling upset that he can't spend more time with you. Yet, he doesn't ignore the way his first name rolls off your tongue, as if his name was made for you to say. "Let me drop you off, y/n." You hum, knowing that if you protest, Gojo will ignore you. As you went to collect your things and put your shoes on, Gojo went to the garage to heat his car up. Once you were ready, you made your way outside to where Gojo was waiting for you.

He, of course, opened the door for you to enter his car. You told him your address as you were connecting to the speaker, which he told you to connect to. You decided to play Pyramids by Frank Ocean, a song you enjoyed and you were in the mood to listen to it. You were singing along to the lyrics as Gojo was too. You two were having fun, just singing together and talking when you weren't singing.

You finally arrived at your house when you thanked him and bid farewells to him, reminding him to text you once he got back home. You weren't sure how much time passed by when you got a text from Gojo telling you he was safe and sound at his place now. You were spending your time now sending texts back and forth to each other, texting turned into a call. Hours went by as you two were talking and laughing playing Roblox, making fun of some random kid, and praying your account wouldn't get banned the next day.

It was somehow night now, you both were still on call. You two didn't even realize how much time passed. You both basically spent the day with each other. Now here you are dozing off on the call together. It was cheesy, but it was cute. You liked spending this much time with him and so did he, he enjoyed spending this much time with you— he wished he could spend as much time with you as possible.

December 22nd.

It's been 6 days since your little date with Gojo. 6 days where you and him have gotten closer— his and your friends even noticing this. Teasing you both whenever they saw you together, which was most of the time. You both were basically inseparable, spending each available minute together. You spent so much time with each other that others thought you were already dating. Yet you weren't, yet.

You were now at Gojo's place once again in his room, lying in his bed as he was at his desk working on some homework he had for one of his classes. You were just scrolling on your phone trying to find something to do to cure your boredom. This was until Gojo started to spark a conversation with you. It was till the end of the conversation that Gojo finally found the confidence to ask you something.

"Hey y/n?"

"Yeah"

"I've been wanting to ask this for god knows how long because I'm so infatuated by you and everything about you. You make it impossible for me not to swoon over you, I've liked you for god knows how long, even before we started talking. You were just my hallway crush or something, but now, I want you to be something more. I just wanted to ask, I'm sure you got the gist of it but, could I be your boyfriend?" He's now sweating so much, you didn't even know it. He was flushed from head to toe, his palms were clammy, and he was on the brink of breaking due to his nerves.

While you, you were flustered. You knew that maybe eventually you'd end up dating, but you were still caught off guard. Who knew that your long-time crush was here confessing his undying love for you.

"Of course, Satoru. I've liked you too for god knows how much time, I was just scared to act on it. Although you were insufferable most times, that could never stop me from fawning over you at any given moment." You both now had a large grin on each other's faces, glad and released that you could get it out.

As of now, you both were on his bed enjoying each other's warmth and embrace. Talking to each other about anything that sprang to mind, you both were now in bliss realizing that you were both finally together. That you were finally his and he was finally yours, a thought that was always running through each other's mind.

December 31st.

You found it funny how just in a month, you got together. Well, of course, you talked before. But this month, it was more than before, you were constantly together. If not you were on calls, but on the rare occasion when either of you couldn't call— you'd be texting each other constantly. Spending each available minute together, something either of you wouldn't give up.

You two were now strolling around in the city, entering shops when you found something interesting that Gojo insisted on buying you. Hand in hand, gojo carrying the bags of clothes, trinkets, and items he bought you just because you spent a second too long looking at them.

You found it nice how the project was due at the end of the month, exactly tomorrow. Yet that project wasn’t the only thing that was progressing, it was also your and Gojo's relationship that went along as the days.

Now you were thinking that maybe that these cold winters weren't going to be as bad. Now you had someone to share it with, to be cold with, and to be warm with, you could be like those couples you were always envious and yearned for.

Maybe these cold winters will be enjoyable now.

masterlist.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fluff #jjk fluff

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