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zepskies · 4 months

Note

Hey could I request angsty and fluffy headcanons for Dean having a crush on reader but he thinks she has a crush on Sam but she actually has a crush on Dean back

Hey lovely!

So I kiiiind of already did this type of prompt with "Dean gives you an impossible choice" and its sequel, "Choosing Him."

But I'll do another imagine in this vein for you! ❤️

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 1,000 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst(ish), fear of unrequited love, mutual pining

Imagine: Dean reads you wrong.

When Dean falls for someone, it's "slow and steady wins the race."

But the spark. That spark is instant.

He feels it with you.

Your pretty smile. Your "get it done" attitude that mirrors his. The way you know all of his references, whether it's movies or TV or music — you grew up learning how to tell time from what was on TV, just like him.

It's the way you laugh with him, share quiet moments of contemplation with him, and even moments of grief with him. Even when it's his grief, you always come. Whether it's to sit beside him, or share a drink with him, or make him something you know he likes, or get him to take a drive with you.

But realistically, you have more in common with Sam.

Both of you are bookish (nerds). You two get into heated discussions about Dante's Inferno and proper Latin translations. (You always accuse Sam of his pronunciations being off, while Sam argues, "At least I remember the whole exorcism. You think the damn demon cares if my vowels are off?")

You and Sam bicker. You playfully tease him, bring smiles to his face just as often as you bring them to Dean's. You're comfortable with him, playfully jabbing his arm or his chest when you mess with him.

Sam takes it with a smile, or a slight roll of his eyes, but always with fondness.

Dean can't help the churning in his stomach. Every time he thinks he has a read on you. Every time he thinks it's safe to maybe, one day, after a hunt, after an episode of Dr. Sexy, after you get out of the shower, after he's made you a home-cooked meal, after you sit with him and talk about everything and nothing while he works on his car — he thinks he might have a shot if he asked you out.

But he always falters, because he just can't fucking tell. He thinks you and Sam have something.

And Dean...he likes you. A lot.

More than he's ever willingly expressed.

But despite his reputation with women, he's never, and will never, step on his brother's toes.

Until he can't help himself.

It's your birthday. Sam got you a series of books he recommended to you last month. (Again, fucking nerds.) Dean got the booze and made the food to celebrate.

But you're surprised, and even a little teary when he brings out the cake he bought at an honest-to-God bakery. He even stood in line, waited 30 minutes to have them write your name on it, with little balloons. The frosting letters are drawn in your favorite color.

"Happy Birthday, sweetheart," Dean tells you. His tone is a little too soft. It's because he sees your unshed tears, and his heart clenches.

It's just a fucking cake.

Does it really matter that much to you?

But he still feels a well of warmth and pride in his chest. He turns to his brother with a smirk. "I win."

It's meant to be playful, but he kind of means it. Sam just eyes him knowingly.

"Sure," Sam laughs.

What the hell does that mean? Dean nearly frowns. But he's soon distracted — by you leaning in close to kiss him on the cheek.

He turns just in time (with slightly wider eyes) to see you blush.

That smile tells him something.

"Thanks, guys," you say to both of them. But your hand lingers on Dean's wrist, squeezing a bit.

At the end of the night, Sam turns in early. You stick around to help Dean clean up.

"Aw, stop. You're the birthday girl. I got this," Dean says, waving you off. You join him at the kitchen counter and lay a hand on his arm.

"Dean," you say softly. It earns his attention. You look a little nervous, your eyes falling from his, then meeting them again.

"What's the matter?" he asks. His brows furrow. He's thinking of your lips on his cheek. Unconsciously he glances down at your pretty mouth.

"Was wondering if you could help me with a birthday wish," you said.

A smile begins to tug at your lips, and Dean can't help but smile back. Intrigue, and a small tremor of something triggers up his spine.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" he asks.

You bite your lip. "Okay...I'm going to ask you this once. Yes or no. And if it's no...then we won't talk about it ever again and you'll have to wipe it out of your memory, because I don't want to make things weird or make you uncomfortable and I don't want to have to do something drastic, like leave the Bunker—"

Dean's smile falls as his brows raise in slight alarm. He also raises placating hands to stop your verbal flapping.

"Whoa, hey. What? What the hell kinda birthday question is this?"

You close your eyes and take a breath. "Okay."

Your eyes open, and as what happens far too often, Dean's captured by them.

"Close your eyes for me," you request.

"My eyes need to be closed to answer a damn question?"

"Damn it, Dean. Just do it, please!"

He lets out a slightly peeved breath, but he obliges you, shutting his lids. He really doesn't know what the hell is going on...until you lay a bracing hand on his chest and press a soft kiss to his lips.

For a moment, he freezes.

He inhales deeply through his nose as the surprise fades.

Relief floods in its wake.

A smile reaches his face.

But soon enough, before you can pull away, he grasps your upper arms to hold you in place. He dips his head down to kiss you in earnest. His lips find yours, gentle at first, and then gaining in passion.

He learns quickly the pattern of your lips, and the heady feeling of that knowing travels straight to his brain, stronger than the whiskey he drank earlier.

It's like you two were made to move together. To end up just like this.

You both are breathless by the time your eyes slide open and meet one another.

Dean's lips curve into a smirk. "How's that answer for ya?"

Your smile is beaming bright.

"Yeah, that works."

Chuckling, he pulls you in closer and tugs a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing your blush-warmed cheek.

And he answers you again.

AN: Ugh, I'm sappy as hell. 😂 Hope you liked this! Let me know what you think. 😉

Read Sam’s version: “Sam reads you wrong.”

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

#Dean reads you wrong #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female reader #reader requests #ask me stuff #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester fic #spn #supernatural #zepskies answers

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gingerhastoomanyobsessions · 3 months

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the lords in black are so interesting to me because. they’re so us. we’re watching the citizens of hatchetfield suffer for our own entertainment just as much as they are. we’re their accomplices in all of it

pokotho made hatchetfield into a musical because musicals are entertaining. and we ate that shit up! it’s soooo fun watching a little man scramble as the world around him bursts into song. the musical genre is satirized because pokey knows how the genre conventions work just as well as we do. we like watching musicals so much that black friday and npmd are musicals, too, even though they don’t revolve around pokotho’s plans as much as tgwdlm. we want them to sing. pokotho does too.

bliklotep is the audience and the audience is bliklotep. trail to oregon calls the audience “the watcher with one thousand eyes” and that’s not all, in watcher world blinky seems to be able to see through the eyes of anyone and everyone who loves spectacle. he wants to see the characters go through angst because WE love angst. it’s fun to watch alice and bill express their buried frustrations. blinky wants it to end in bloodshed because he loves tragedy, and let’s face it, so do we. it’s like that one post about how hamlet is aware of the audience and is angry that we don’t do anything to intervene because we want to see how it plays out. personally, I think blinky could have stopped the woodwards if he really wanted (he’s an elder god, after all) but alice shooting him shifted the narrative so that the emotional payoff would be more fulfilling if they escaped. and blinky loves a good story.

t’noy karaxis has blorbos. we joke about it, but that’s really what it is, isn’t it? he’s the fan who watches the movie again and again and again and again to see his favorite character’s dramatic death scene. he’s the guy who writes and reads angst fics by the hundreds because he likes to see his faves cry. he’s the hatchetfield enjoyer who’s on the edge of their seat waiting to see how ted kicks the bucket this time. the bastard’s box is pretty much just an ao3 account filled with whump and hurt no comfort. he’s sadistic AND he genuinely adores ted, because we fans are often cruelest to the characters we love the most. he puts ted through character growth— the realization that his life went the way it did because of his own mistakes, his inability to be vulnerable with jenny before it was too late— and he does that by writing a 56-chapter angst fic that’s still updating to this day

nibblenephim is the fan who voraciously devours every scrap of content that a creator produces and demands more, more, more. let’s face it, the fandom will never let starkid rest until we see this story through to its end. and then someone will demand a sequel series. nibbly is hungry because we will never stop yearning for more stories. he’s simple because that desire itself is simple— as humans, we need creativity like we need air to breathe. nibbly wants more because we want more. and we will never be satiated.

wiggog y’rath is the ruler and the king because he’s the self-inserting writer. I think jon matteson plays paul *and* wiggly for a reason— wiggly is the only lord in black to be played by the same actor in every single show, and that actor also plays the protagonist of tgwdlm. wiggly wants to be the protagonist. he tries to force himself into the human world of hatchetfield because he wants to participate, dammit! he wants to be the bestest ruler that the earth has ever seen! everyone has to love him because he’s going to be their bestest fwiend! when he appears in human form he’s gonna be the prom king! he’s the ebony dark’ness dementia raven way of the hatchetfield multiverse. he wants every human character to bend to his whims and to love him and to put him at the tippy-top of planet earth because he’s the writer and the writer’s main character, you fuckheads, and he can make whatever story he wants, whether the other characters like it or not! if you’ve ever written a self-insert story? congratulations! you’ve been wiggog y’rath.

and the funny thing? I don’t think the lords know that they, too, are as fictional as anyone else in hatchetfield. maybe blinky knows— he sees through the audience’s eyes, after all— but I don’t think the others do. if they did, maybe they’d be a little less tyrannical. a little bit nicer.

but then the starkid writers wouldn’t have much of a story to tell, would they?

#the lords in black #starkid #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #npmd #join me in the metafiction analysis hole.#the real villains of hatchetfield are the starkid writers themselves and those of us who want to see the shows!#the only reason the lords in black fuck up the world is because WE want to see that story!!!!!#note: the ‘you fuckheads’ bit was meant to be in wiggly’s voice/pov. I do not think the good people of starkid fandom are fuckheads.

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alicerosejensen · 9 months

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Together Forever Pt.1

Warning: Kidnapping, age difference, Leon!ID, affectionate nicknames, surveillance, forced cohabitation.

Synopsis: Working in D.S.O as an ordinary archivist did not promise to be too difficult. At least you didn't have to risk your life or supply the agents with information, you just took care of the valuable data received by the agents, putting everything in order. Everything would be fine… until someone decided that you needed protection from this fucking world full of zombies and other biological weapons.

Note: something like trial of the pen. I think there will be two or three parts, but this is the first time I'm writing something with a sequel (not counting those three texts about a Reader from college). I'm not sure it's going to be good, but I'll try. And yes, I don't approve of this shit in real life. Everything that is written here is strictly FICTION and you do not need to take it literally. If you have any triggers or dislike then skip it.

Part 2

Part 3

It was outrageously easy. Not that Leon thought that your forced "move" to him would be too difficult, but it was even easier than he imagined. His little archivist was still sleeping soundly in the backseat of his car under a strong dose of the drug so that you wouldn't resist when he drove you to his country house. It's okay, Leon just understands that you will need time to get used to your new good life, but he understood that it would be stressful. Therefore, your forced immersion in a sound sleep is just a precautionary measure so that you do not harm yourself by your own stupidity while he was putting you in an SUV. After all, you could have hit your head, cut yourself, or he could have accidentally bruised you when he stuffed you in, but he foresaw all this in advance and now his sweet girl is just sleeping while they go to the new house that Leon has already prepared.

But there will be no special consequences. Leon looks in the rearview mirror, which was specially lowered a little down so that he could observe your condition in case of anything, although there was no excitement. He just drove the car along an empty road, only occasionally there were cars driving straight back to the city. Outside there was only the forest and silence, but another hour of travel and he will settle you in a cozy warm house. A shared bedroom with warm blankets and soft pillows is already ready there. In the trunk he has three large boxes of boxes of your books that he collected in advance in the afternoon when you just left the apartment and some clothes for the first time, but Leon thought it needed to be washed, so it's okay that you sleep in his clothes…then he will buy you a lot of new things. In general, he will buy his baby whatever she wants…the thought made his lips lift in a slight smile.

He accurately calculated the dose of sleeping pills based on your weight, so the drug acted quickly but relatively safely. At least the feeling of nausea, dizziness and disorientation will haunt you for a while until the drug is removed from your body, but that's okay! Leon intended to look after you and take care of you until you finally come to your senses.

When the well-guarded and well-maintained with all the needs for housing finally appeared a few meters away, Leon turned off the engine as soon as he parked the car in the garage where, in addition to various tools with which he repaired his bike, there was also a collection of pistols. He opened the back door and carefully, like a porcelain vase, carefully carried it into the bedroom in his arms. Your head was leaning against his chest and while Leon was carrying you up the stairs, he could not resist the desire to kiss you at least on the forehead. Although it was uncomfortable, his lips touched only the top of your head, forcing you to squirm in his arms, causing an even bigger grin.

Leon opened the bedroom door, got to the bed in just a couple of steps, put you on the soft pillows and reached out to the bedside table, flicking his index finger on the small switch, turning on the lamp. A dim yellow light illuminated a small space, falling mostly on your placid sleeping face. Just like a real sleeping beauty… Leon stroked your cheek with his palm for some time, just admiring you and scrolling in his head how cruel this world is to such an innocent beauty. He saved Ashley, but for some reason she couldn't hook him like you, and Ada… well, it's interesting to solve this riddle woman for a while, but in the end the brain gets tired of the unsolvable task. He is a government agent and people with his profession value the usual stability more than anything else, for which they are ready to give all the money they earn. And you are his little archivist, who spent hours sitting in a dusty archive, sorting through folders with old reports and other documents. Even if you read something from this, you still don’t understand how dangerous it is outside, but he will protect you and you will love him. Necessarily.

However, now it was important for Leon to take care of his baby…

He wanted you to feel as little discomfort as possible after waking up, so getting up from the bed he found some old but clean things in the closet and going back to the bed began to change his little angel. Leon carefully unlaced and pulled your boots off your feet, placing them neatly next to you to put away later. Your jacket, skirt and even blouse followed by a bra. He could not help but hold an enthusiastic glance on your beautiful breasts, his palm gently slid over them, seeing how your nipples harden from the cold air soaring around the room and from this magnificent spectacle it became tight in his pants.

Your flawless appearance alone drove him crazy, causing an unbearable desire to undress himself and just lie down next to you, hugging, feeling your hands on his back. But he drove away the voluptuous obsession by taking his shirt in his hands, gently lifting your body to put your hands into the sleeves and fasten the top buttons, as if you were a doll that needed to be changed…who knows, maybe it will even become his favorite activity? In the end, somehow you got into the blood like smoke, penetrating deeper and deeper that it became impossible to get you out of his head.

Like a parasite, Las Plagas captured all thoughts without giving a single chance to escape, and if at first these feelings were frightening, then after watching you became an integral part of his life for six months. Leon convinced himself that he was taking care of you as he is now, laying you under a warm blanket with pillows so that you lay a little on your side if you suddenly start vomiting because of the drug and it's impossible not to touch your cheek with your lips at least once.

But you didn't wake up. And Leon still gave another kiss on the forehead, clasping your face with his hands, inhaling the fragrance of the desired body. His little songbird.

"You'll feel so good here with me. I promise."

He whispered and it was as if she heard something through a deep sleep, making him smile from the way your eyelids tremble in your sleep while he strokes you on the shoulder.

But while Leon left you to rest, going down to the first floor to unpack boxes of things and books that he took from your unsafe apartment. The door to the bedroom remained unlocked and even slightly ajar so that he could hear how you wake up.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Of course, Leon never had a plan to kidnap anyone, but after all the traumatic events, some paranoia and … the horror that Jason was talking about begins.

As soon as the president's plane disappeared into the sky, Patrick talked incessantly about a pretty young archivist girl to whom he constantly turns up during breaks to treat coffee or a sweet bun to relieve boredom, but Leon always listened with half an ear when circumstances did not force him to go down to the archive and meet you there.

"Can I help?" your voice rang out among these endless folders with documents and boxes on dusty shelves from which his nose itched all the time. Leon tried to determine your location, but perfectly developed reflexes did everything for him when he abruptly turned around seeing you behind his back in a cute skirt, white blouse and jacket. From here, the alarm quickly subsided when he realized that there was no danger.

Perhaps he stared at you a little longer than he should, looking at every small detail on your face, forcing you to sigh impatiently and repeat your question. The agents rarely went down themselves, but mostly they just sent the archive a request and a deadline by which to provide the necessary information, often in digital form.

It was the first red flag and the first wave of feelings that came to him when you first met.

"So?…" you wanted to repeat the question for the third time, but he still spoke.

"Yeah…I need a report. Spain 2004. Los Illuminados" Memories rolled over him like an unpleasant wave, but you just nodded your head as you walked past him, carefully picking up a bunch of boxes, maneuvering between them so perfectly.

Leon only needed this report because of another outbreak in Africa. Not to him, but to his colleagues, however, it was faster to go down himself than to send a stupid request that is still unknown when they will see and process.

"I'm sorry for the mess, we have a little rearrangement and cleaning at the same time. What kind of report is needed? I'll look at the database" you stared at him with such cute eyes that he smiled at you, however, after taking a step, he stumbled over one of these damn boxes, after which you immediately flew up to him grabbing his forearm to help him get up. Not that he needed help, but it was nice.

"Are you hurt?" you asked quickly, to which Leon chuckled merrily. "God, I'm sorry, the last archivist made such a terrible mess here and they made me clean everything up alone. Do you need a Band-Aid?"

"No. It's all right, really, but it's nice of you," Leon dusted off his hands and you stared at his palms as if checking whether he really hurt himself. "But it's better to clean up everything here. It will be sad if such a cutie falls just like me"

You smiled at his compliment, not offended like the others. It touched his heart pleasantly.

"So what kind of report exactly is needed? I'll file it in a week."

"The Kennedy Report. The original." Leon said quickly, carefully catching the information on your face, however…nothing. Perhaps you haven't even touched it yet and haven't even heard anything about those events. Patrick said that you are very young and have only recently come here, so it would not be surprising.

"Okay, it will definitely take some time, but everything will be ideally as it should be. Is it urgent?"

"You have all the time in the world"

He doesn't remember how long it took before you finally pulled out a dusty folder from some box with other reports and handed it to him personally. It's funny that even when you found out that he is the same Kennedy, you practically did not react at all.

You dusted it off and sneezed yourself, so Leon could only hope you didn't have asthma or something. But something else was important because since then you have not left his thoughts.

Patrick told him about your favorite coffee and buns... More precisely, Leon himself saw that he constantly brings you to the archive during lunch. This helped him bond with you, so he started bringing you lunch and even helping with those huge heavy boxes. It's almost indecent that you weren't even given an assistant to put everything in order. And then soft unobtrusive touches began. Passing a cup of coffee, he could accidentally touch your fingers; you let him hold you by the waist as you walked down the stairs. It was easy for Leon to help you, and he even liked that you were like a little doll in his strong arms. It seemed like one careless move and he would accidentally break you.

At some point he was suddenly afraid that you might fall and get hurt or accidentally spill coffee on yourself or one of the many boxes would easily fall on you. There were so many dangers lurking at every corner and he could not always be there to save you. However, that didn't mean that he couldn't not take care of you. Unfortunately, you absolutely lacked care for your personal belongings, but Leon hacked your phone only for security reasons. In principle, there was nothing terrible, except for those moments when some narrow-minded friends invite his dear angel to some noisy clubs or meetings late at night. It wasn't good!

And Leon was most angry when you came home late at night, not worrying about what kind of bastards might harm you. God, you literally put your own life at risk, so of course he had to protect his beloved in every way possible, even if it meant locking you at home.

It was easy to find out the address, insurance number and other documents. D.S.O carefully checks all the details of the new employees, but fortunately everything was in order. And it didn't take much effort for Leon to find all the necessary information, although it took a lot of time to prepare for your forced move to him. Leon has fully equipped his country house, protecting all the sharp corners so that you don't hit. It bought a lot of soft pillows and warm blankets just for you, terry towels, favorite cosmetic products for skin care...Yes, breaking into your apartment also turned out to be a trivial matter. The problem was only that Leon was worried that you might be bored, so after looking at a bookshelf full of various books, he decided that it was worth taking them all with him along with the things from the closet. Well, your game console, too.

the preparation took about three weeks, considering that he also had some working moments that he could not ignore in any way. After all, he should be able to provide you with complete material well-being, because Leon intended to take care of his cute doll with all the love he was capable of. The only catch is that, despite the fact that you liked him, you always kept him at arm's length, just like Patrick, promising yourself no novels in the workplace. Especially with agents who can hurt your heart and soul for fun. That's why you refused Leon even a simple dinner, but this refusal only made him feel touched by you, showing how innocent you are, convincing him that, of course, you should be under his protection.

You thought he was nice and circumspect, but you, but how could you know that he hooked up a tracking device to your phone to know where you are always? Leon was a professional agent of the president himself, but he always looked after you in the car while you were walking to your house after work.

And yet you didn't let him get close to you. Therefore, when Leon realized that it would not work out in a good way, he moved to radical measures by preparing a syringe.

One move and grabbing you with one hand, closing your mouth in a dark alley not far from your own house. Frightened, you put up minimal resistance trying to hit the attacker in the groin and run away as far as possible, since the shoes were comfortable enough, but it was still a lost cause in advance

"Stop messing around, it's for your own good, sweetheart"

The frightened brain tried to do at least something to try to escape and escape, but what are the chances against it? It seemed to you that a steel grip completely squeezed you into a vice, cutting off oxygen and slowly plunging you into a thick abyss from which it was impossible to escape despite all the pathetic attempts to bite or hit opponent.

Being scared, you didn't even know who the voice belonged to. But it was because of your ridiculous floundering in an attempt to escape that Leon stuck a syringe in you, after which all the muscles seemed to turn to stone.

"Shh, everything will be fine sweetie." Leon turned you around to face him when consciousness was already leaving. "So go to sleep and be the good girl you always were. And I'll take care of you..."

Someone else's lips gently touched your face, once he easily picked you up in his arms, quickly laying you on the back seat of the car.

Everything is fast perfect fast clean and no witnesses.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

While you were resting on the top floor, Leon set up cameras in the house so that you could monitor your actions while he was not at home. Actually, he was thinking about a comfort zone like the one in the last apartment - a small cozy hanging chair, a cute fluffy white rug and a small table lamp with a coffee table where you could put a mug with a hot drink while reading a book or watching TV. He even figured out in his mind exactly where in the house it would be best to arrange while taking the boxes out of the trunk into the living room. The luggage wasn't too big, Leon decided a long time ago that he had more than enough money to buy everything for you himself, but it should take a couple of days before the drug he injected into you finally gets out of your body, so your things will lie in the next room for a while, which a little later, maybe in a year or two will become a nursery.

Leon looked into the bedroom again when he put all the boxes together, but you continued to sleep in the same position in which he left you. Smiling, he had a desire to take a break and drink coffee. In complete silence, only grasshoppers were chirping outside and a strong wind was making noise, as if foreshadowing bad weather, everything was quiet when he sat down on the sofa holding the remote control. It took no more than a couple of hours before something fell with a crash upstairs, forcing Leon to quickly jump to his feet and instantly run down the stairs, opening the bedroom door and seeing you on the floor trying to get back on your feet.

Poor bunny, but Leon will take care of you...

I'm a little burned out for writing, despite the fact that I have a lot of requests that I still want to answer. It's just that my psychological state does not allow me to make beautiful and smart sentences even in my native language, so I don't even know if I will finish this nonsense with yandere Leon. Reviews are welcome at least because they cheer up the author by showing that you care.

Of course I will publish something from time to time, but it will probably be at a long interval.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #reader #leon kennedy headcanons #resident evil leon #infinite darkness leon #yandere!leon kennedy #yandere leon kennedy x reader #yandere resident evil #yandere leon kennedy #yandere resident evil x reader #yandere Leon S Kennedy x reader

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mypoisonedvine · 2 years

Note

I am literally BEGGING you to write more perv Eddie I was stunned by the last one 🥵🥵🥵

okay okay just because I had so much fun with it!

warnings: smut (18+), oral m receiving, grinding but no penetration, coming in panties, implied/described tickle fetish, slight foot fetish, verrryyy slight/implied watersports kink (nobody actually DOES anything it's just discussed and it's more of a holding kink anyways...), more dacryphilia, choking (with dick not hands), very slight degradation, reader has a thing for balls (we've established she's a perv too okay)

sequel to this drabble

Eddie knew he was a pervert, it was something he learned about himself in his mid-adolescence and had only grown into since. What he hadn't known until that day was that you were an even bigger perv than him!

Yes, you were still innocent in your own way; your experience was limited, in part because of your slightly off-color interests like his. But your mind was impossibly dirty-- you put him to shame, really. And he didn't mind it at all.

"You thought about this a lot, didn't you?" you purred as you rubbed your foot against his crotch-- the white sock moved up and down over the bulge in his jeans, and Eddie had to fight not to buck his hips against you.

"Y-yeah," he choked out.

"Such a dirty boy," you scolded playfully. "I want you to show me how you jerk off to me-- you know, what you think about and stuff..."

His cheeks were turning pink, but he was already hastily opening his belt for you as you giggled happily.

"Mm," you hummed and licked your lips as he pulled out his throbbing cock, gripping it tightly in his hand. "How do you touch it?"

"Um, I-I do it like this for a while," he explained, demonstrating long, slower strokes from base to tip and back, "and then when I'm close, I just do this..."

You watched with half-lidded, dilated eyes as he moved his fist quickly over the head, and his whole cock flexed under your gaze. This felt so different with you watching him. "So, what do you think about?"

"Well, it depends," he breathed, struggling to focus while he was doing this. "Like, there was that day you came over and I, um, tickled you?"

You raised an eyebrow. "You tickle me a lot, you'll have to be more specific."

"R-right, well, I just do it 'cause you're so cute when you can't stop laughing and you're too weak to push me away..." he sighed. "But, um, there was one time where we were right here on the couch, and I was... on top of you and I... I tickled your feet first--"

"Of course you did," you smirked.

"But when I tickled your ribs," he recalled, "you were laughing so hard you started to cry a-and you said you... uh... you said you were gonna pee."

His face was burning hot as you started to laugh. "Oh, you were into that?"

"I-I mean, I wasn't gonna make you, I just... I liked that I could, if I wanted to," he explained. "Don't you think it would be kinda cute? If I tickled you until you-- until you wet yourself?"

You didn't say anything, and something about the silence made his throat all dry and his cock bob in his hand. "What else?" you pressed, and he shuddered as he started to stroke his cock faster.

"Uh... do you remember when we all got popsicles on field day?" he continued.

You smiled and bit your lip. He was already getting closer...

"You, uh, you got cherry..." he trailed off, groaning and shutting his eyes as he recalled the memory. "Kept thinking about your little tongue o-or your lips on me like that..."

"Yeah?" you encouraged with a grin, pointing your foot and using your toes to toy with his balls; his eyes rolled back in his head.

"Yeah, fuck," he grunted. "I couldn't stop thinking about your w-warm mouth... shoving my cock down your throat, and making you-- god-- making you choke on it--"

He was cut off with his own gasp when he felt you suddenly lean forward and wrap your lips around his tip; his eyes shot open and he stared in disbelief down at you as you gently sucked him, his hand still holding the rest as you bobbed your head a little lower with each movement.

"Oh my fucking god, baby," he breathed, "you're so-- fuck, look up at me?"

You leaned back slightly and your eyes met his-- those big, pretty eyes that were far too sweet and innocent to be looking at him like this while your mouth was trying to suck the life out of him.

"Th-that's it, god," he groaned, stroking your hair for a second before pushing your head down a bit. You hummed around him, and he pushed you more-- the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, and he moaned as you gagged. "I knew it'd be too big for you," he grinned proudly, "fuck, I don't mind, I-I like feeling you choke. Can I do it again?"

You blinked at him and he took that as a yes-- of course, he would've taken anything as a yes.

He shoved your head down, over and over, occasionally letting his head fall back in pleasure but always coming back to meet your gaze; you were way too fucking pretty with cock in your mouth. Bet you look beautiful with cock in your pussy...

His nostrils flared and his lips snarled as your eyes started to water, and just as you blinked and those tears fell down your cheeks, you sniffled a bit.

"Oh fuck, baby, are you crying?" he sighed. You couldn't answer, but you didn't have to, and more tears ran across your face. "That's so fucking sexy..."

He swiped a tear up from over your cheekbone with his thumb, bringing it to his lips to taste. You whined slightly around him, and he caught the way your hips wiggled-- you were trying to hump the couch, like the needy little baby you were.

"I bet you're so wet from this," he groaned, "aren't you? Little button's all swollen and sensitive, just from choking on me?"

He let go of your head so you could pull back with a gasp. "Yes," you breathed, licking the underside of his cock, "yes, fuck-- can I taste your balls?"

Well, he wasn't sure what he was expecting you to say, but it wasn't that. He honestly could've busted right then, hearing you say something like that... especially between little sniffles as your eyes watered still from the irritation in your throat that his cock had induced.

Obviously, he nodded, and you leaned in deeper to his lap as he spread his legs wider for you. Your face was buried in his crotch and he felt your nose and lips right up against his skin; you took a deep breath in and hummed happily. "They smell good," you said suddenly.

"Jesus H. Christ," he hissed, catching your devious smirk as you looked up at him from under his erection. "Baby, you're not talking to me about how my balls smell right now."

"I've been thinking about them for forever," you admitted, "wanted to suck them so bad, wanted you to rub them all over my face..."

"Dirty," he announced proudly. His smug grin didn't last long when he felt your tongue lick him down there-- again, again, again.

"Mm," you hummed proudly, rocking your hips again, "taste so good..."

You sucked one into your open mouth, hollowing your cheeks, and he groaned loudly. Letting it out with a quiet pop! you switched to the other and reached up to grasp his cock, stroking it a little for him. "You like this?" he pressed. "Fuck, you like s-sucking my balls?"

You nodded and he couldn't take much more of this; and as fun as it would be to come in your mouth (truth be told, he almost wanted you to hate the taste) or all over your face or even in your hair while you had his balls in your mouth... he had better ideas.

You whined a bit as he pulled you off of him and he smiled. "I'm gonna help you, baby, I'm gonna get us both off," he promised.

He guided you to stand up and turn around, placing your hands on the counter in front of you. As he came up behind you, flipping your skirt up, he groaned and got a nice handful of your ass. He couldn't help himself, he had to give you just one little spank, and the way you jumped and quietly yelped when he did it made his cock throb again.

He grabbed your panties and, when you must have assumed he would pull them down, he yanked them up and pulled the fabric tight between your ass cheeks, glancing down to see the strip of pink lace was now pulling tight between your swollen lips; he groaned and tugged again, watching your hips shiver as the fabric rubbed over your clit. "So fuckin' cute," he grunted as he let go of the panties and you sighed in relief; he stepped up closer and pressed himself against you.

At first, he just rubbed his cock on your soft, smooth ass, but then he pulled the soaked crotch of your panties down just enough to slide his cock in. Not into you, just against you, slowly sliding his cock through your lips and letting your cunt soak his dick. "Oh," you breathed, already rocking back against him; he grabbed your hips tight.

"Let me do it," he ordered. "It's gonna feel so good..."

He thrusted forward and back, the tip of his cock rubbing right on your clit, and he caught the way your legs were shaking like your knees might give out. "Eddie," you moaned, dropping your head limply.

"You're so sensitive," he observed with a groan. "Think you can come before I jizz in your panties, sweetheart?"

"Yeah, m'close," you admitted, "right there, Eddie, fuck..."

"Right here?" he repeated, pushing his cock against you harder as you whined. "Right on your cute little clit?"

"Yes," you whimpered, tightening your grip on the counter before you. He groaned and slipped his hands under your shirt, tugging your bra out of the way so he could grope your chest. "Fuck, play with my nipples, please," you begged.

He moaned and did what you asked, thrusting faster against you as he toyed with your hard nipples, pinching them between his fingers. "Such pretty tits," he groaned, "been thinking about them for so long-- you wanted me to touch them, didn't you?"

You nodded and he felt his cock starting to flex.

"God, baby, come all over my dick," he instructed gruffly. "Want that little slutty pussy to soak me, c'mon, do it--"

You moaned his name loudly and he was done for, he gasped as he started to spray his load right there inside your panties. His eyes fell shut while his mouth fell open, and his head tilted back as he soaked the lace even better than you had.

He jumped when he felt you reach one of your hands back and squeeze his balls. "Fuck, baby--"

"Want all of it," you explained breathlessly, "want all your come, Eddie, please?"

"F-fuckin' Christ," he choked, but he kept thrusting erratically until every drop was in your cute panties.

Stepping back, he pulled them up again to make sure all that come was right up against your pretty folds, though the excess was already beginning to run down your thighs. "That was so hot," you breathed.

"You know you have to wear these for the rest of the day, right?" he smirked at you, pulling his jeans and boxers back up as he buckled his belt.

"You know that's all I ever wanted, right?" you replied with a wink.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #perv!eddie

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il-predestinato · 5 months

Note

hello beautiful elle

since it is going to be a long 3 months without our boys could you please recommend some fics that you liked? cause i really like your writings and how realistic they are and i wanted to get some of you suggestions for the break!

love you loads

Thank you, lovely anon, for your very kind message! 🥺 I must admit I have fallen behind in reading fics. I am sure I am forgetting some excellent Lestappen fics/writers, but these are some of my all-time favourites!

Lestappen Fic Recs:

And in the end I will seek you out amongst the stars by mandzilkos (@geeeooorrrge) - rating: G, 22k words

Soulmate AU where you see in black and white until you meet your soulmate, and the world goes back to black and white after your soulmate dies. This is ALWAYS the first Lestappen fic that comes to mind whenever anyone asks for a recommendation, and it is probably my all-time favourite. The fic that inspired me to write Lestappen, if I'm honest.

getting half of you just ain't enough by shybear_styles - rating: E, 20k words

The friends with benefits story that spans the 2019 season. The only thing better than amazing smut is amazing smut with feels. For sure a top 5 fic in the Lestappen fandom for me. Also, this author is simply amazing in general and you should read all of her fics! I haven't given up hope that she will return one day and write more Lestappen. 🤧

you feel the mornin' feel by shybear_styles - rating: M, 3.3k words

Remember that time Sebastian Vettel asked Charles, "Is he [Max] pretty?" And we never got an answer because Charles descended into gay panic? Well, worry not! We get an answer in this fic.

Monaco Malaise by ProngsfootxJily (@cupidskissx) - rating: E, 8k words

Rivals with benefits, takes place after the 2021 Monaco Grand Prix. Yes, this one is delicious smut but also a character study. Both of them are written so well, and it leaves you begging for more. Don't forget to check out the equally amazing sequel! (Don't worry, I have been relentlessly harassing her to write the sequel's sequel.)

algorithm by Anney (@badboy-george) - rating: M, 17k words

In a world where F1 uses simulation-based compatibility tests, five times Max doesn't find the right partner and the one time he does. Black Mirror ("San Junipero" and "Hang the DJ") vibes in the best way. Another one of my absolute favourite fics. If you've read any Lestappen fics, you've probably read "Every Other Sunday." This one is simply a masterpiece by the immensely talented Anney; definitely check out her other fics!

panem et circenses by Anney - rating: E, 13.2k words

Wow - simply devastating, haunting, an ode to these two as drivers, set in a dystopian future AU. The world building is absolutely incredible, but at its heart is such a beautiful story of love and hope. This one doesn't get enough recognition. (TW: implied non-con, not between Lestappen.)

Unlearn by wantinghopingwriting (Tazza1993) (@lightsoutfullhearts) - NR, 45k words

This is another all-time favourite, a must-read. Fake/pretend relationship to lovers multi-chapter story that is ever so satisfying; both of them are so well characterized. Set in a parallel-ish 2022 season. I really cannot recommend this one enough.

the edge of what can be loved by Ledger_m (@the-last-jedis) - rating: T, 13k words

The third wheel fic from the perspective of Max and Charles' various "Steves." It's funny, heartwarming, and everyone on the grid is nosy as fuck.

Charles Leclerc vs Red Bull caps by Ledger_m - rating: T, 6.4k words

Charles is the hero we all need, as he goes on a mission to get rid of all of Max's stupid Red Bull caps. This is REQUIRED reading! Kami is a genius. Go read all of her fics.

If You Don't Play, You'll Never Win by antimonyandthyme (@antimonyandthyme) - rating: T, 4.1k

Post 2021 Monaco Grand Prix. Max wants to take their relationship further; Charles... doesn't. Oh my God, where do I begin to describe how much I love this fic. The language is beautiful, both of them are so well-written, and I feel punched in the gut over and over again in the best way. The ending (well, the whole thing) is so damn satisfying.

all's well that ends well (to end up with you) by stylestappen (@stylestappen) - rating: G, 3k words

Max has a meltdown in the cereal aisle (yes, the cereal aisle) at 3 am when he realizes he is in love with Charles despite the latter's questionable taste in cereal. Dani has an absolutely wicked sense of humour! (Although I don't understand what she has against cocoa puffs 😭.) She also wrote a banger of a Lestappen soon-to-be teammates fic, so make sure to check out her profile.

Max Verstappen: Spotify Extraordinaire by frnndtorres - rating: G, 26k words

Max makes Spotify playlists for the grid. Fluffy, funny, care-free, liberal use of nicknames, with a healthy dose of feels between Max and Charles. A really fun read.

i love the way your green eyes mix with that malibu indigo by altissimozucca (@altisssimozucca) - rating: G, 11k words

Max and Charles spend summer of 2020 together in Malibu and try not to fall in love. Spoiler alert: they fall in love. I feel the urge to explain something: When I first started reading Lestappen, there were less than 250 fics in their entire tag (yeah I know, we are currently close to 3000 fics, which is insane). From 2019-2021, we truly lived off crumbs. So trust me when I say that we owe so much to altissimozucca, who wrote something like 40% of the fics in the Lestappen tag and nearly single-handedly kept us fed in those days. It's so hard to pick one of her fics to recommend, so make sure you check out her profile for more!

#803442 by altissimozucca - rating: M, 1k words

Max and Charles celebrate the end of the 2019 season in a hotel room. So soft, so fluffy, so satisfying.

Bruises by eefiplier - rating: E, 5.1k words

I think of this one as THE Lestappen smut fic. Oh my God, it's 5k words of amazing established relationship smut with all the feels. A classic. I can read this one over and over again.

outside the box by playclock (@endowataru) - rating: M, 6.1k words

Max falls in love with Charles' driving... oh and Charles himself too. They are ultra competitive idiots who are madly in love. There aren't enough established relationship fics out there, but this one is simply amazing. And don't forget to check out this author's profile for additional Lestappen fics. I promise every single one is a banger!

i made it link by link by purpleglasseswrites (@f-ferrari-forever) - rating: M, 4.2k words

Charles and Max try to be kinky, but who are they kidding - they are far too vanilla for that stuff. 🤣 This one is so sweet, and don't forget to read the sequel!

One man's trash, another man's treasure by AzziNow (@track-terror-apologist) - rating: T, 4.2k words

Charles turns into a raccoon and terrorizes everyone except Max. (Well, he terrorizes Max too... slightly.)

Call it madness, call it love… by AzziNow - rating: M, 3.5k words

Ferrari auctions off Charles for charity. No angst, just fluff. Alpha!Max/Alpha!Charles. So I confess that I never read A/B/O fics. There's nothing wrong with it - just not my cup of tea. But I really enjoyed this one. Al has such a chaotic sense of humour.

it all reminds me of you by grandprix (@grandprix-ao3) - rating: E, 3k words

Secret relationship Lestappen with flashbacks. Oh the yearning, the desire, the smut - incredibly satisfying. I must put a plug-in for this author's other Lestappen fics as well. Never misses - make sure to check them out!

burning you into my mind by thightattoos - rating: E, 4.1k words

Porn with feels and possessiveness. You cannot ask for anything more. I must have read this one a dozen times.

an evil plan or two by witchee_writer - rating: T, 5.2k words

Max and Charles are roped into a plan to get Brocedes back together; they come to a few realizations along the way. The only thing better than a Lestappen fic? A Lestappen AND Brocedes fic!

Fine Line by empireoffclouds - rating: NR, 7k words

One of the more light-hearted enemies to friends to lovers fics. I absolutely adore their dynamic here - it's snarky, warm, but also so them. The incomplete sequel is also a super fun read.

Into Darkness Of Thought by flamingosarepink - rating: T, 1k words

After the 2019 Japanese Grand Prix, Charles thinks Max isn't coming back to their shared space.

steal softly under castle walls by untouchableocean - rating: G, 521 words

Max gets home late from Milton Keynes and Charles has already fallen asleep. Short, tooth-rooting fluff of the best kind.

Zoomies by greeny1710 (@maxlambiase) - rating: E, 2.2k words

This one is just hilarious. A (mostly) naked Max walks into Charles' team Zoom call during the COVID lockdown.

...and many, many more that I'm sure I have forgotten! 🙈 You can also check out my AO3 bookmarks (the first few pages are pretty much all Lestappen fics).

Please remember to leave kudos and comments for these amazing writers. The talent in this fandom is absolutely incredible. They all deserve so much recognition. Happy reading!

#max verstappen #charles leclerc #lestappen #lestappen fic #fic recs #elle.ask #anon #a list of incredibly talented people #for reference #fave

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violetrainbow412-blog · 11 months

Text

Exchanged clothes [S. R] Bolinus brandaris part. 2

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 4.6k

part 1

summary: a small act of kindness leads to a rather peculiar confession

A/N: Okaay, some people showed interest in a sequel to this and I thought I'd do it, I hope you like it enough. Oh and we are still with baby Spencer, later I will write about the second and third seasons (and as I progress in the series, lol)

taglist: @the-ginger-draws @skievers @c-m-stuff

The days passed, the cases continued, and the level of trust in the friendship between you and Reid only grew. Working at The Behavioral Analysis Unit was complicated and exhausting in many ways, which sometimes made you wonder how he managed to put up with all that, because, although you weren’t an old woman, you did have two years more experience compared to him. It's also not like it was your fault that he was a genius and he went to work for the FBI at an extraordinary age. So every time something happened, you were there for him and he was there for you. The whole team really cared about the two of you (and JJ, the third youngest) while still trusting in your abilities to face challenges. And just like in a family, everyone could also notice the existing tension between you and the doctor, because although, at least on your part, the feelings had been there for a long time, they had become more obvious to the rest since of the trip to Miami.

"Good morning" you had greeted part of the team that day, a few weeks after the trip, more energetic than the others would have expected. Neither Hotch nor Gideon were around, for obvious reasons, so it was only when you passed Reid's desk that you stopped, running your hand affectionately through his hair “Hey, Doc.”

"Hello," he responded immediately. Spencer didn't like it when his hair got messy, but he could take it if it was you, just as he could take your constant hugs or the drawings you sometimes made on his hand when you were bored during meetings. Of everything that happened between you, little managed to bother him, almost as if the interactions he avoided with others were something natural with you around.

Although he had stopped wearing his scarf daily, he still wore it at least once a week as a reminder of how special it was to him, and fortunately that day was the chosen one.

“Do we have a case? Or do I just bury my nose in these reports?” you muttered to the others, but they denied "What of that do you say no to?"

"Today they will be documents" JJ spoke kindly.

"Why do I have so many?"

“Because I passed you some of mine,” Morgan sneered and you gasped, completely offended. You whispered something accusatory in his direction that made Spencer laugh from the next desk, and then he reached over to take just under half the folders.

"I will help you"

"Oh no, no, Reid. It's okay,” you said, your voice softening noticeably, as you placed your hands over his to try to stop him.

"It's nothing, I'll finish them in a jiffy"

"Why don't you ever offer to help me, huh?"

“You manage pretty well on your own,” Spencer teased at your friend, now making you laugh. You still had your hands on his under the excuse of collecting your reports and, perhaps unconsciously, both of you postponed the moment for another few seconds, looking into your eyes with a small smile until he finally managed to keep the material that he had stolen from your desk.

"Thank you," you said, so softly that only he could hear you.

Looking at your coworker had already become something of an obsession. You liked his gestures, how he looked away when he spoke, his nervous ramblings, and the straight hair that he apparently was letting grow, but what you liked the most were his hands. When he was explaining a profile, he always communicated a lot with his body language and honestly, the swaying of his hands, combined with the tranquility in his tone of voice, was very hypnotic to you, as if keeping the attention of others was something inescapable for him, although it was probably easier to keep your attention specifically. Right now, while everyone was minding their own business, you were watching sideways as he ran his middle finger over the printed lines. It made you nervous to see the delicacy with which he moved across the sheet of paper and inevitably your mind traveled to inappropriate corners related to that movement, which embarrassed you to the point of blushing. Thank heavens he was too focused to notice you, so you forced yourself to work on the few reports Reid had let you keep.

The days were very rare when no cases appeared, but you were grateful that they existed because sometimes it was necessary to take a breather. Seeing so many bodies, so much blood and so much inhumanity was something you never quite got used to, although having good teammates in your unit made it more bearable. So that night nothing stopped you from finishing right on time, with a little back pain from sitting all day, but also quite calm.

"I'll see you tomorrow, rest"

"Are you going to your apartment?" Spencer asked, rushing towards you with his coat in hand and the briefcase slung over his shoulder, and you nodded Can you wait for me to go together?”

You looked at him, more confused than you wanted, but you said yes. It's not that you were upset or that you didn't want company, but that you were curious as to why he might have offered to do it.

"Thanks again, for earlier," you said, once both of you were outside. You lived a few streets from the office and you could get there in less than 20 minutes by taking a subway station, which fortunately was the same one he took.

“Okay, they were too many for you. I mean, it's not that I think you can't do the job, you're very capable, it's just that I thought it was too much workload for just you and I… well, I could help you so I did it” with that Reid held up a hand to downplay the matter and smiled at you.

“Why have we never thought about walking to the subway together?”

"I don't know either," he said. You felt a gust of wind hit the both of you so you hugged yourself to try and get some warmth and even though Spencer wasn't the best at reading social cues he managed to figure out what you had and what he needed to do

“Here” he murmured, as he spread the coat and put it on your shoulders.

“Oh no, no, no, Reid. I'm fine"

"In fact, if you don't use it you can catch a cold and although there are very few cases in which there are complications that lead to death, the symptoms last about a week and you can infect several people during the first days, so you not only you would be taking care of yourself but also the rest of the team” he informed you. That made you smile, and you found that behind all his scientific mumbo jumbo, he was trying to take care of you.

"It's a little big on me," you laughed, reaching into the sleeves with some help from him.

“You look pretty” he blurted out from his lips, completely entranced by you “Well, the… the coat. It looks good” he tried to fix, but you laughed at the compliment that you definitely wouldn't pass up.

"Aren't you cold?"

“No, my shirt and vest help,” Spencer replied, showing you the long sleeve of her white shirt. “I also have my scarf, did you forget it?”

"The best choice in all your outfits" you joked, reaching out a hand to feel the soft fabric of the garment and looking at him, with that cute shy smile "What will you do when you get to your apartment?"

“Huh, probably get some sleep. I haven't been resting properly in the past few days."

"Nightmares again?" you sadly asked. Spencer had talked to you superficially about it a few days ago, although you thought that he had suffered from this disease for much longer than he wanted to admit. He didn't answer verbally, he just nodded his head and you thought he didn't want to delve into it “I think I'll spend a while in the bathtub and then I'll sleep. I'm exhausted"

“You close doors and windows before you sleep, right?”

"I do," you assured him.

“Do you also take your cell phone with you to call in case of emergencies?”

"Huh, yeah"

"Good. Take care of yourself” he insisted. Those didn't sound like random recommendations and that puzzled you a bit.

"I do, Reid," you replied softly. When you noticed that the concern in his features did not leave him, you thought it would be prudent to ask him why that was "Are you worried about something?"

"No, it's not that" he hastened to answer. You still had a few blocks to go to get to the subway and only a few passers-by walked the streets, besides you.

“Are they unsub then? Anything in particular that worries you?"

"It's nothing like that. It's just…” he gasped, still unsure to continue, “if I tell you, you'll think it's silly”

"Of course not. Tell me, what is it?" you asked. He was internally debating if he should tell you what he was thinking and he was convinced a little when he felt your hand on his arm, as if prompting him to speak.

“Yesterday I…” he started to say “I had a nightmare. I dreamed when I arrived at the office I found out that something bad had happened to you. And… I don't know, it felt very real and I couldn't get it out of my head” he admitted. You understood that perhaps it was the reason he had wanted to accompany you, as if he feared that someone might stalk you on the way.

“Spence” you murmured gently, as you pulled him a little in your direction to place one hand on his bicep and the other on his forearm “Don't worry, nothing's going to happen to me. My apartment complex has a good security system and I always carry my gun, if something happens on the street, I will know how to deal with it. They're just bad dreams, I have them sometimes too” you said to reassure him. You felt quite comfortable walking in that position and you continued a couple of steps holding him like this, looking for some negative sign from him, but it never came. With the closeness he managed to feel a little less fear, reminding himself that what tormented him were fantasies of his own mind, that if they were analyzed with a little more detail they were an unconscious reflection of how much he feared losing you.

"I told you it would be silly"

"It is not. It's quite sweet, actually,” you smiled, moving your thumb up and down as you smiled at him. In that position your face was at the height of the boy's shoulder and it was enough for him to turn his head to reach your forehead, so he wondered how much you would bother if he left you a kiss there. He wanted to, but held back.

“I just thought I should tell you. For you to be careful"

“Same to you, Reid. You have a rather peculiar ability to get into trouble” you exclaimed accusingly, because in a couple of cases the man had already managed to get on your nerves.

The position turned out to be cozier than you expected and you continued walking the rest of the streets towards the subway in silence. He concentrated on the feeling of your body so close to him and your hands gently holding him, while you lost yourself in thought wondering what you really felt about your coworker and what he felt for you. Spencer would look at you from time to time, analyzing your gestures and enjoying the sight of you wearing his clothes, something he didn't think would affect him the way he did.

“Did you know that railway suicides have a very small percentage in the country's suicide rate?” he told you, while the two of you looked at the subway tracks that you were waiting for. You had had to distance yourself to be able to pay the pennies for the ticket and you had decided to place your hands in the pockets of your borrowed coat, caressing the lining fabric with your fingers.

"I had no idea" you muttered. You were a little surprised that he always had an interesting fact about literally anywhere you were and you loved hearing him tell you “It must be horrible. And very sad"

"Even the government allocates certain resources to pay for psychological therapy for drivers who witness these suicides"

"Well, at least it comforts me to know that part of my taxes ends there," you joked bitterly and the train stopped just as you finished saying it. Reid let you first into the nearly empty car that would take you home, and along the way you continued to talk about less unfortunate things, like the dinner choices you were planning or the TV shows that were likely to be airing when you arrived.

Having those little quiet moments with him made you feel lucky and the laughs he managed to get filled your chest with joy, making you completely forget everything related to work. The voice in the wagon warned that your stop was next and an anticipated sadness invaded you.

“Be…”

"Be careful, I know" you smiled. Since you were already on your feet, so as not to miss your stop, you crouched down to give him a quick goodbye hug “See you tomorrow. Try to sleep and if you have nightmares you can call me, okay?" you muttered. He nodded from his place as he watched you leave towards the platform and leaned out the window to see your figure disappear into the distance.

Neither of you two realized that you had kept his coat until you got home.

As of that night, that coat returned to see the doctor's closet on very few occasions and the purple scarf went on to have joint custody. He had found out that if he loved anything more than wearing the clothes you gave him, it was seeing you wearing them, causing him to come up with totally pathetic excuses to accomplish that.

"It's a bit cold" "Purple matches your clothes" or simply "keep it, it looks better on you than on me"

It soon became a habit. During the cases, when you two were apart, it was a little comforting to have something of him with you and when he came home, he would enjoy breathing in the smell of your perfume impregnated on the fabric.

After a few weeks you realized that, without a doubt, you were so in love with him. And when he realized the same thing, he was completely terrified.

“Reid” you greeted him one morning, catching up with him as he poured himself a coffee and analyzed a piece of bread that had surely been sitting there since the day before. Hugs when seeing him had also become a habit, quite nice from the man’s point of view "I have something for you"

"Again?"

"Oh yeah," you smiled. Lately you had been filling him with small gifts and most of them quite rare, but which he kept suspiciously in his desk drawer. And it's not that he didn't appreciate it, but that he was beginning to feel guilty for receiving so many and not having given you any yet. "Give me your keys," you asked and he obeyed without even questioning you. Once you had them in your hand, you took a strip of colored beads from your pocket that you added as a key ring, while he looked at you with some confusion.

"What's that?"

“My friend asked me to babysit her daughter this weekend and we went crazy with crafts. So I thought I'd do this to you” you muttered. He took a closer look at the keyring and noted that you had included his favorite colors, purple and green, as well as a heart-shaped bead at the end. "I know it looks like a preschool kid's creation and if you're embarrassed to wear it you can throw it away”

"No, I like it. It's pretty,” he smiled, running his long fingers over the beads. Satisfied with the answer, you took out your own keys and proudly showed them to him.

"I have one just like it," you said happily. That was true, only yours was made of pink and blue, and the way you said it completely touched the man.

"You make me think that there is still goodness in this world, you know?" he exclaimed, so sincere and without thinking that he surprised you "I loved it, thank you very much"

"Now that I think about it, it's like one of those friendship bracelets you make at summer camp”

“I never went to a summer camp”

"I don't know why I'm not surprised" you laughed and would have continued the conversation if it hadn't been for Hotch's interruption.

“We've got a case. Conference room in 5”

Sometimes you forgot that the real reason you were there was the criminal profiles and not seeing Spencer Reid every day.

You just woke up one morning and knew you had to tell Spencer how you felt about him. As you said before, Spencer seemed to have a special magnet for trouble and proof of this were the cases in which he had to perform dangerous tasks that you knew no one else could do. When he had to get on that train with Ted Bryar you'd gone crazy and last week when he'd watched that cult boy on Massanutten Mountain threaten Reid with a gun you decided you'd had enough.

He had expressed concern for your well-being on multiple occasions, but what about his? Didn't you have the right to care about him just as much? every time he came back you wanted to throw yourself into his arms and whisper in his ear if he was okay, to maybe leave a kiss or two on his cheeks. But every time he came back you just cheered with the rest of the team and barely had contact with him beyond a squeeze on the shoulder and a sincere: I'm glad you're okay.

So you thought that if you wanted to have that kind of privilege over others the only alternative was to profess your love to him in the hope that he would feel the same way and you could work something out.

Spencer, for his own part, also had his epiphany and as much as he tried to avoid it he ended up asking Morgan for advice, who was the only person he thought would be suitable to talk about this kind of subject. Surprisingly, Derek behaved discreetly and really gave the doctor valuable elements to understand one of the few sciences in which science was almost obsolete: love.

Going back to recently acquired habits, walking together to the subway was another one of them. Sometimes this was interrupted because he or you stayed longer than the other, but except for those cases it was a regular activity.

So that night, when you two were walking to the station, your mind was immersed in remembering the speech with which you planned to tell your friend.

"You're very quiet today," Reid observed, taking you by surprise. In a few months he had already learned very well some traits that indicated that something was wrong with you.

“Sorry, I… I have a few things on my mind,” you apologized, but Spencer didn't know what to say because he also had his own things on his mind. He was desperately searching for a way to put into words what he felt, but he kept wondering, could that be explained? All attempts at reasoning became useless with you near him, maybe that's why he couldn't think of how to tell you "Reid, I don't think I've ever asked you, but have you ever had a partner?"

"Like… couple?" he asked, trying to make sure you were referring to the same thing he thought.

“I know it sounds weird, but it just… made me curious,” you exclaimed, shrugging and then crossing your arms in an attempt to comfort yourself. Reid fondly watched how your arms were on that purple scarf and felt a little motivated to speak.

“Huh, in that case, yes, something like that. I dated two people when I was in school, but it wasn't anything serious, just a few kisses” he explained to you and you failed to contain your laughter, maybe because of the way he had explained it. Spencer blushed to his ears and smiled reflexively at your smile. "Don't tease!"

"I don't" you defended yourself. Another person walked down the sidewalk and he reached out his arm to move you protectively in front of him, so when you came back to his side you took advantage of the distance between you, to the point where your shoulder brushed against his arm.

"And you?" he asked after a while of silence "Have you had many boyfriends?"

"The truth? not so many. With most of them I lost interest after the first date and the others left me when they found out I was in the academy. Apparently armed women aren't very attractive” you smiled. You had asked about his romantic history, and incidentally talked a bit about yours, only to open the topic and somehow feel that your confession would not be so out of place.

“There are studies that indicate that women take longer to fall in love than men, perhaps that is why you lost interest quickly. For you it takes about 6 or 8 dates to decide if you want something with a person, because you are more selective and better analyze personality traits in men. But they only care that the girls are… well, pretty” he murmured, with a smirk “On average it takes women 134 days to fall in love while men only 88”

“How long have you and I known each other?”

"It must be like... a year and a half now" he exclaimed, mentally doing the math "Why?" he continued legitimately confused. For the genius that he was, Reid was naive at times.

You looked down at him and for a second thought that even with those bags under his eyes and the stubble he hadn't shaved, Spencer was the most handsome man you'd ever met. Not receiving an answer, he looked at you and was surprised to see the sparkle in your eyes.

"Okay, can we stop here for a moment?" you asked. You knew you were probably going to chicken out if you didn't say it right then, even if that closed beauty salon you were standing in front of was an unromantic place. "I need to tell you something”

You had said it with determination, but once you were face to face, your mind went blank. You panicked: how were you going to tell him? What was the right thing to say? What reaction did you expect?

But Spencer, noticing the silence, decided to be the first to speak.

“Noradrenaline is a neurotransmitter that produces excitement and effusivity, increases heartbeat, blood pressure, causing sweating of hands and flushing. High dopamine levels generate a need to be with the person that releases it and is related to serotonin, which generates well-being, optimism, social closeness, and reduces discomfort and anger. Phenylethylamine makes everything more intense, makes us feel more motivated and optimistic and finally, oxytocin is the love hormone par excellence, it occurs when we have a bond of trust with people or when we feel a strong attraction. Sometimes it is also released when we embrace the reason for our affection” he had said that so hastily and waving his hands, that he could only show how nervous he was. He inhaled to catch his lost breath, then finally made eye contact with you, taking a moment before continuing, “What I'm trying to say is…you make me feel all of that. You alter my chemistry in ways I've never thought of and… and I… go all goofy and don't know what to say…”

"Spencer" you interrupted him "You mean you like me?" you asked gently, because you knew that when he started to wander sometimes you needed to bring him back down to earth. Reid looked at you tight-lipped and nodded slowly.

You were silent for a second, trying to process what he had just told you, and he got even more nervous than he was.

“But I think that after all this what I care to know is… if you feel the same way. Or in the worst case, if you think you might feel something like this”

“A total chemical mess for you?” you exclaimed amused. One of your hands went to his and you gently held it, taking a step closer to him. “I'm sorry, Reid. I feel it every time I look at you, that you hug me, every time I give you those silly gifts and see the smile on your face. Everything in you causes me that"

"Are you serious?" he asked, wanting to be completely sure what he was hearing. You laughed and wrapped your free arm around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

“Of course I do. Before you said all that I was racking my brain trying to find a way to tell you how I felt."

“Did you know that this is a phenomenon? There are those who call it the tuning fork effect, which is when two people connect the same idea at the same time, almost as if they had been thinking at the same frequency.”

You chuckled and buried your head in his neck, letting go of his hand so you could hug him properly. He wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his head in your hair, willing to say nothing more for fear of ruining the moment. All the fears you had had were being buried with that contact, because now you had the certainty that what you felt was mutual.

You stayed like that for what felt like hours, just listening to the gentle beating of his heart and enjoying the sense of security that being in the man's arms made you feel.

"I really like you" you broke the silence, with a whisper, making him smile.

"I think the most logical step from here would be to ask you out on a date, no?" he muttered. You pulled away enough to look at him, but still leaving your arms around his shoulders.

“I don't want to have to wait. Let's go for a burger"

"Don't you prefer somewhere more... formal?"

"Leave formal places for proposals, handsome," you said in a playful voice, caressing his cheeks with your extended palm and he made a mental note that this Italian restaurant he was thinking of inviting you to would be the ideal place to ask you to take the next step, when the time was right.

“I still have to take you on at least 6 dates, to be sure”

"Fuck the statistics, I don't need that burger to know I'm in love with you," you said and he grinned from ear to ear.

“I know a place with an excellent health label and organic food, it is a few streets from here”

"I follow you" you answered cheerfully "On one condition"

"Which?"

"Let me hold your hand," you asked softly and Reid wasted no time in fulfilling your wish, leading you to the restaurant that way.

And at the end of the night, when you stole a kiss from him, he couldn't have felt luckier.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía

1K notes · View notes

angsthology · 6 months

Text

THE KANGAROO(KIE) VS. THE WORLD

the misadventures of being the only female f1 driver through the eyes of the grid’s renowned snoopy-loving kangaroo

mostly thank u to @sebscore and @disneyprincemuke for the idea of fem!driver on the grid (i love both of them by them please check it out)

anyway! these are mostly from random spurts of thought i have along with memories of my toddler self who wanted to be race car driver! (did not in fact become one btw. im somehow becoming a law student instead). i also try to not use any y/n (which so far i have succeeded in, hopefully, hehe) and psa, she is often implied as a non-european. (well more on how i write her cause i write what i know)

also, apologies in advance, this is going to have a LOT of projecting <3

talk to meee!!1! (or maybe request just whatever)

tag << everything rvstw (asks, brainrots, & more!!)

ABOUT THE DRIVER

☆ introduction

a little intro into our driver and the likes of her (hcs)

☆ re-intro

idk car stuff and some designs

☆ more

just random stuff about her

☆ behind the driver

behind every little gremlin is a group of tired adults

ROOKIE ERA (2022)

☆ the origin story

the journey of when what and whys of our driver

☆ the kangaroo!

the story of how she got the nickname “roo”

☆ the gig

she’s... in a band?

☆ the presence

roo has been acting a little too quiet and when the drivers take notice of it they had to ask

☆ the figure

it started as an accident, ended with family

☆ the dye

who told him this was a good idea?

☆ the m problem

so... we need to talk about roo?

OH, WELL, THE MORE YOU KNOW! (2023)

☆ the rise

lets get the year started, yeah?

☆ the button (–2024)

it went from that to this

☆ the kid

she forgets things, it’s not her fault

NEW YEAR, NEW ME (2024)

☆ the shoot

welcome to 2024! who is this person...

☆ the streak

she is posessed by the demon (her real self)

☆ the girls

at times like these she really misses her girls

HOLIDAY HURRAHS (from summer break to winter breaks)

☆ secret santa

the process of how the 2023 secret santa went

☆ beach day

spending the day at the beach with a large group of f1 drivers may seem like a good idea until you remember some of them are literal children

☆ beach day the sequel

the consequences of your actions and some more actions

PADDOCK ENCOUNTERS (misc & shorts)

☆ chilli-pepper

☆ sold

☆ teenagers and baseball gears

☆ roo vs. the cameraman

BEST OF ROO (the compilations)

☆ radio

☆ incorrect

SOCIAL MEDIA POSTS

☆ after the gig

☆ what’s your roman empire?

☆ there’s another side that you don’t know

☆ into outer space

#tine’s roo vs the world

556 notes · View notes

railingsofsorrow · 10 months

Note

Oh my god!! I need a second part of purple scarf asap. Honestly the best fic I’ve ever read YOU DID SO GOOD.

Maybe with a little smut? I loved it wow

Green-eyed monster

[spencer reid x reader]

A/N: heey, anon! I don't write smut sorry :( but there are some hints towards it? perhaps. I hope you like it and thank you for the kind words!

summary: a consultant on a case drives you mad. the team seems to know the reason why, all except for the man with an IQ of 187. or. . . in which this is the sequel for this. it can be read as a standalone though.

pairing: s.reid x f!reader

w.c: 3.1K

warnings/content: jealousy jealousy jealousy (if the title wasn't clear enough); some light female rivalry; discussions about possessiveness; teasing; making out; allusions to sexual content (nothing explicit) and a tiny hint towards bdsm? but you blink you miss it; also, rossi's got some jokes.

navi

masterpost

[requested]

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You don't lose patience quickly. You consider yourself to be a very patient person who is always questioning whether or not the situation was worthy over being stressed. It usually wasn't, so you'd take a deep breath and either fix the problem so it went away on its own or you faced it right away.

This time, you decided on the former. Because when someone keeps flirting with your boyfriend right in front of you — in a work environment nonetheless — while disrupting his personal space — really, what it is with people and not being aware of that minimum 0,5 inches gap? You do not need to be up on someone's face to have a simple conversation!

“Here.” A glass of water appears in your line of sight and you avert your attention from across the room to stare at it in confusion. Rossi is waiting expectantly beside you. “For you. You seem to need it since you keep on scoffing. Sore throat?”

That sassy Italian irony, huh?

You give him an eye roll as a response and he chuckled when you actually take the glass from his hold.

When Hotch called all of you over a case in your day-off, you didn't expect to grit your teeth as much as you were right now. You left your bed along with Spencer's warm body to go to the Bureau and have shameless flirting displayed in a public space. For godness sake.

“Agent Y/L/N.”

You really don't lose your cool over nothing.

But this isn't nothing.

Also, you do not consider yourself a jealous person, you see? But Agent Mayfield was pushing her luck.

“Yes, Agent Mayfield?” You replied in the same overly sweet tone she gave you. You're a profiler and you're damn good at your job, but it didn't need much to notice her aversion towards some people on the team, if not everyone. And you weren't the only who felt the same, given the not-so-subtly eyeroll from JJ.

The dirty blonde woman smiled at you. You didn't smile back. “You seem to have forgotten the files from—”

“It's on your desk.” You said shortly, turning back to the medical files you had to get through to find a pattern in the UnSub's M.O.

“I didn't see it.”

You hummed.

Well, of course not. If you hadn't been all over Doctor Reid than maybe you would have seen it.

“I just put it there, you can see it now.”

There was a pause, and then, “Thank you.”

“You're very welcome.”

There was a clear of throat and a soft chuckle around the briefing room but you didn't gave much thought to it. Until Derek made a comment.

“Slow down, Tiger.” He said, patting your shoulder before leaving the room with a laugh upon feeling your glare in his direction.

“Why do you need slowing down?”

You let out a long sigh. It wasn't Spencer's fault. That was completely out of the question, you knew he wasn't responding back to Agent Mayfield's flirting — he probably wasn't even aware of it, if you were honest — but the woman unnerved you 100%.

He placed your mug in front of you, the smell of coffee immediately reaching your nostrils and calming your senses. Maybe that's what your body were lacking and that's what it required to tune down your annoyance. Spencer was smiling at you and your forehead smoothed out. He's such an angel.

“Don't know,” You shrug, lifting the mug to your lips. Yes, not too sweet or watered-down. You give him a half smile in appreciation. “Derek is mad.”

“Doctor Reid, I need your input on something, do you mind?”

You refuse the scoff, looking at your side when you see Emily studying you. But someone else was inspecting your every move as well, you notice it when Spencer turns back to you after nodding in affirmation to Agent Mayfield.

“Is everything alright?” He questioned, warm fingers grazing your forearm warily. Of course Spencer knew something was off, he didn't have a major in psychology just because. He recognized your actions in a way you couldn't do it if you paid enough attention to yourself. Once, he made a comment about the supposedly meaning of when you licked your lips in different situations and you just stood there and listened, in complete bewilderment. He noticed a lot, to say the least. Not what's right under his nose, though.

“I'm good.” You shrug, grabbing one of the pictures in your messy circle of clues. You'd have to ask for Penelope's magic on this one. “You better go, duty awaits.” Your tone was extra chirpy and he just knew that was sarcasm. You know, Spencer Reid might be terrible with social cues, but he was familiar with everything that was related to you. And that edge in your voice made him slightly concerned.

Had he done something? He travels back to every single interaction from the two of you since you left his apartment — your apartment, too. You hadn't moved in (yet) but you did spend most of your time there. That place was just as yours as it was his, now. He loves saying that — but nothing out of ordinary comes to mind. You had breakfast, crawled back in the covers because it was supposed to be your day-off and intertwined your limbs for about one hour straight before Hotch made the call. You didn't look mad at him. You didn't sound mad at him when you left together, or on your way to work. Why did you sounded and looked mad now?

Fiddling distractedly with his scarf, he followed Agent Mayfield into her temporary office. She was a consultant in the newest case you were working on, Hotch brought her in because she had history with this kind of UnSub. Apparently, she went through a similar case back then.

Spencer got confused every time she asked him a question. Not that he minded, he loved to talk and loved when people seemed interested in what he had to say. But Mayfield was an expert in the area, she knew all of the questions she was asking him and he was aware that she knew because of her reaction. She was a nice person. Smiled a lot, too.

“What do you think, Doctor Reid? Am I in the right mindset?” He blinked away from the board where she had shown him a possible location the UnSub was hiding. The red dot stared at him as a sweet perfume unnerved his senses. Oh, she had gotten closer. Too close.

“Uh, yes. I believe so.” He frowned, taking a step back. She also didn't seem to get the meaning of boundaries because she stepped forward again. The smile quirking up a smirk. “Maybe—uh, maybe we should inform Hotch. Have you—”

“Doc,” She laughed, staring him up and down. “Are you afraid of me? Why do you keep waking back? I won't bite.”

“Okay,” Spencer deadpanned, swallowing hard. What was happening? He felt the table against his fingers and stopped moving back but Agent Mayfield kept on marching forward. “You—”

Tilting her head to the side, she raised a hand to touch the fabric around his neck, eyes traveling over it with curiosity and something else he couldn't translate when her blue orbs locked with his amber ones.

“Nice scarf you got there.” She purred, he could see her eyeshadow clearly form how close she was. It was starting to make him feel uncomfortable, the feeling of fight or flight arriving little by little as his hands gripped the table behind his back.

Spencer nodded nervously, “Thank you, my girlfriend gave it to me.” The air shifted as soon as he let the words out. Her movements freezing before they reached his neck. Thank god.

“Oh,” she muttered, sounding surprised and slightly disappointed “Your girlfriend?”

Spencer pulled the fabric away from her hold, taking advantage of her thoughtful stance to hop to the side and release himself from the cage she had locked him in. “Yes,” he said, adjusting his scarf around his neck. “She likes knitting.” Spencer didn't know why he said that, he didn't know a lot of things right now just that urge to flight the scene as if he was in imminent danger. “You got it all right. We should inform Hotch, this will help.” A tight-lipped smile was the last thing he sent her way before he fled the room.

When Hotch explains they're going to follow a new lead provided by Agent Mayfield, you are one of the first to reach for your bulletproof vest, until a hand curls around your shoulder.

“You're staying.” Hotch says, earning a look of disbelief from you. “You haven't been cleared for the field.” He gives you an unimpressed look which you know it means a warning if anything else.

“Hotch, it's been a month!”

“And you haven't been cleared, I need you and Garcia to work together.”

That's how everybody — but you — leaves for the newest location. The lead ends up being right and they find the man, you're in Penelope's office when they arrive back at the Bureau. It's around 10 p.m and you can't hold yourself back from yawning as you follow Penelope to meet your friends in the bullpen.

Emily's eyes glisten with something as she sees you come around the corner. She walks over to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder as you gaze at her from the corner of your eye suspiciously. “You won't believe who made the arrest.” She whispers in your ear.

You let out a scoff, “I think I have a hunch.” You mumble, eyes scanning around the room unconsciously until you find what your heart always searched for on a daily basis. Your gazes find each other and you offer him a smile.

“I was waiting for you to punch her guts, to be honest. You disappointed me.”

“I'm being professional, Emily. Not that you can relate.”

Emily flicks your forehead, and you whine playfully. “Menace. Now go talk to your lover so he can stop with that puppy dog look. It's depressing.” Your mouth stretches into a grin and you offer her your tongue in a very mature say before leaving her side to cross the room.

“Hey,” you greet Spencer with a warm smile. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Are you mad at me?” He blurts out at the same time you spoke. Confusion drew your brows together.

“Why would I be mad at you, Spencer?”

“You were gritting your teeth and your shoulders were tense which means you seemed to be holding back to snap and upset about something.” He rambled out, clutching the strap of his go-back that he hasn't even put it down yet. “Your eyebrows, they do this thing where you lift one and scoff right after.” Oh, so he noticed that to? You weren't even aware of the eyebrow twitch yourself. You weren't even going to complain about his profiling, you were more concerned about the fact that you made him feel as if he had done something wrong. Which wasn't the case. “Did I do something?” His voice lowers when someone passes by you. You decide you were to public for you to discuss the topic so you pull his wrist towards the conference room.

You shut the door quietly and turn around to face your boyfriend that carries a slightly heartbreaking expression.

“Spencer.” you called out softly, leaning your hand towards his and intertwining your fingers as you pull him closer. He lets out a sighs in relief with the way you were reacting. She's not mad anymore, good. “I'm not mad.” The promise goes out in a whisper as your hands left his to wrap around his neck. The scarf is there, it's always there. Your fingers curl around it slowly and he's too busy burying his nose on the croak of your neck to pay attention to anything else.

He makes a sound of protest when you lean away but you proceed to shut him up by crashing your lips together. The immediate reaction is to enfold your waist with his hands, you can feel his warmth when your shirt raises exposing a bit of your skin.

A smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth as you wrap a hand around his neck to create a little space between you two. It's not harsh, you're barely applying pressure on the area, but it's the reason his pupils are dilated when he glances down at you.

“I'm not mad because I know that you know who you come home to every day.” The contrast between your honeyed tone and your stern gaze is palpable, Spencer walked that path before and he knows what it means. “Don't you, love?” He's not sure which of his responses is appropriate for a work environment so he simply swallowed hard and nodded.

You hum, smile turning into a soft grin. Your whole stance shifting when you peck his lips again, adjusting his sweater vest as if absolutely nothing had happened.

Like an investigation board, every clue seems to click in his mind. The code arrives to his brain and the information was so clear that it must have looked like he ignored the signs because it was convenient.

You're jealous.

And Spencer must say, it looks quite good on you.

Before you leave the conference room you had come to hide in for a few minutes, he stops you from sliding out the room by hooking two of his fingers to the waistband of your pants and bringing you back to him. He unwraps the scarf around his neck to involve it around yours. It's not an unfamiliar action, he's done it a few times through the course of your relationship. It's something that he enjoys doing, truth be told. Except that, in a room filled with profilers, it conveys a whole other meaning. Although he just needs it to be conveyed to one person.

There's a six feet distance within you when you step back into the bullpen. Most of the people have dissipated, only your inner circle left, except from Rossi, he went home already.

Oh, and Agent Mayfield was saying goodbye to everyone as well. You had to hold back the eyeroll as she approached you. You could see JJ from above Mayfield's shoulder, cracking up beside Penelope, who was asking her to be quiet. The entire FBI building seemed to quiet down for a minute.

“Agent Y/L/N,” she gave you that fake sweet smile, showing off her teeth as she offered a hand for you to shake. You really thought about ignoring it or in throwing out the number of pathogens passed during a handshake to avoid doing it — like your precious boyfriend usually did. “A pleasure working with you. I hope the opportunity comes another time.”

You shake her hand, despite your inner protests. However, every action has its consequences, right? That's why something akin to pride bursts through your chest when her attention freezes on your neck. It's good, it's really good to see Agent Mayfield clears her throat and walk out of the room as if the best team of profilers weren't scrutinizing her every move.

“Oh, my god.” Emily mumbles, rolling her shoulders back with a groan. The atmosphere had switched from tense to a much more relaxed environment. “That was brutal.”

“I know what was brutal.” Derek kicked Spencer's chin, to which the younger replied with a frown. “The rejection you gave her. And that,” he points at you, shaking his head playfully as he throws the strap of his bad around his shoulder. “That's just possessiveness, princess.”

“Yeah, I don't know which one of you is worse, to be honest.” JJ raises her hands and turns back to grab her stuff.

Shrugging with an innocent expression, you say, “I've no idea what you're on about.” Penelope makes a joke and Hotch bids everyone goodbye because he'll try to see Jack before he falls asleep.

The parking lot is dark and the wind travels fast to bring you a cold breeze. When you reach your car, you notice the key is on your bag, that Spencer was currently carrying. Before you ask, a kiss is pressed against your temple and you're being pushed to the opposite side.

“I'm driving.” He clarifies when you look back at him with a puzzled gaze.

“You hate driving.” You say, putting your seatbelt on. “... particularly at night.”

“I don't hate it. It's just not my favourite thing to do, besides...” He gives you a pointed look after turning on the engine. “You're tired.”

“I'm not,” you replied stubbornly, but complains nothing else. You are tired. Despite not going to the field like everyone else, being on the office was just as much work.

Silence fills the car in its comfortable form. You're lulled to sleep with Spencer's harsh breaks and his soft humming to a pop song on the radio. He gently wakes you up when you've arrived in his place.

As you're fluttering your eyes open, you know the peace is about to be disturbed by the smug look in his pretty face. “Possessiveness, uh?” He murmurs, laugh echoing when you slap his arm as your face heats up. You have no idea what took over you a few moments ago. Well, you do know. But you weren't about to give in to him that easily. “You know you're the only one, right? I don't have eyes for anyone else.”

The truth slipping out of his tongue is completely unnecessary, but welcomed. Reassurance is important, even if you trusted Spencer in the tip of a cliff with eyes closed.

“I know.” You say, smiling when he leans into your palm. Drawing invisible patterns in his cheek, you pull him closer to close your gap. This time, the kiss doesn't carry anything other than tenderness.

Now it's his turn to grips the scarf, he holds both ends, tugging you impossibly closer. “And you,” he stares down at your lips, teasingly. “... you are who I'll always want to come home to. No doubt in that. Understood?”

You let out a hum in contentment while kissing him as an answer. One hundred percent understood.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

taglist: @lilyviolets

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#reader insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #requested

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satorusugurugurl · 14 days

Note

Hiii i just saw your accidentally hurting during yk what fic 😭😭 I was wondering if you’d maybe be up to writing a sequel? Like what happens after that?

NO PRESSURE OFCCC

you have great writing

Aftermath of JJK Men TQ Accidentally Hurting You During Smexy Time!

Part One

Character: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Choso Kamo

Warnings: Mentions of injuries? Suggestive, Gojo getting picked on, fluffy sweetness!!

Word count: 2,695

A/N: This was so much fun! It practically wrote itself! Thank you Nonnie!!

Gojo Satoru:

“My head hurts!” Gojo complained as he walked back into your room. He tossed you an ice pack before collapsing onto the bed with you. “Maybe we should have stopped what we were doing because I think I have a concussion.”

“You're such a big baby.” You giggled, still naked under the sheets. “It was just forehead bonk.”

“One that could have resulted in a concussion from your thick-ass skull.”

You tossed one of the pillows at him with a smirk. “You're the one at fault, Toru.” He just lay there, sighing dramatically.

“Right, I’m at fault all because I thrust into you.”

“There you go, the keyword ‘you’ all you.”

He stuck his tongue out at you before pulling you into his arms. “I would like to think it was a two-person incident.” You hummed nuzzling his neck.

“Besides, it's not like these things will draw any attention! In the morning, it'll be like this never happened.”

That was the farthest thing from the truth. The following day, both your goose eggs were still there on full display. You were okay with the fate you had been dealt. Satoru was fine, too, until he walked into the first-year's classroom.

“Mornin! I hope you three are ready for a fun-filled day of training!!” The three students glanced at each other before staring at Gojo. When none of them said anything, Satoru stole a glance at you. You had just stopped in to say good morning, and then you were off to the second-year's class.

You were flushed, hands covering your mouth as tears flooded your eyes. Why the hell were you laughing? Was there something on his face? Was his blindfold upside down? Your beautiful laughter was so contagious, spreading to his students. They were trying so hard to keep it together. While Megumi just silently judged his benefactor.

Not being in the loop had Satoru turning to everyone. “What? What's so funny?” The utter confusion in his voice finally had you losing the very little control you had.

“Oh My god!! Oh god!” You laughed out loud, sinking to the ground, tears flowing freely down your cheeks.

“What?!”

“What's with the lump under your blindfold?!” itadori cried out as Nobara slapped her desk repeatedly. “Some Charlie the Unicorn cosplay you're testing out?!”

“N-No, it's his third eye-opening!” Nobara added, causing you to wheeze.

“He already has Six-Eyes! That wasn't enough!!”

Megumi slowly pulled His phone out, snapping several pictures of the very confused Gojo. “Wait until the second year to see this.”

Having had enough, Gojo bolted for the bathroom, staring at his reflection. Without his blindfold on, the goose egg wasn't that noticeable. However, due to the tight fabric concealing his eyes, his goose egg was front and center in the middle of his forehead. He robbed at it, slowly smiling when he saw you step inside, face flushed. You were trying so hard not to laugh, but he could see the mischievous gleam In your eye.

He knew you oh so well. “Go on, say what you want to say.” He shook his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. “But Charlie the Unicorn and my third—no seventh eye-opening were golden.”

“I-Is that a goose egg under your blindfold, or are you just happy to see me?!” Laughter echoed off the walls.

Gojo just grinned his signature wide smile. He said nothing as he grabbed you by the collar of your uniform, dragging you back to the classroom. “That was weak! I expected better from my girlfriend.” You laughed even harder, making Gojo turn to smile down at you. He didn't think it was possible, but he fell even more in love with you at that moment.

Geto Suguru:

“Don’t ask Google Home, you freak!” Suguru just eyed you for a long moment. “Sugu—I’m serious!”

“Hey Google!” He shouted out with a smug smirk.

The next thing he knew, you were on top of him. Your hands covered his mouth as you straddled his hips. “You little freak! You seriously think I want PSIA or CIRO to know about how you bit my clit.” You were easily rolled off, Suguru laying on top of you, his hands prying yours away from his mouth.

“Oh, Y/N, I love it when you talk acronyms to me.” He gently kissed your palms. “So sexy, really get my cock throbbing.” You sputtered and looked off as a warm breeze flowed through the room. Suguru grinned against your hand. You were so cute when you pouted like this. “So Google Home is a no-go, what about Reddit?” Sighing in defeat, you nodded, watching your boyfriend type on his phone. “I, twenty-seven male, bit my girlfriend's clit. What should I do to treat it?”

God, you could already hear the cringy TikTok videos using your horror story for views. Luckily, Suguru got the answer: antibacterial soap, warm water, and aspirin.

Suguru left and returned, finding you sitting on the couch, your hand pressing against yourself through your shorts. The sight made him cringe in sympathetic pain. He bit you hard, and he knew it hurt from your scream. If he could take the pain from you, he would. Alas, there was nothing he could do to change it, but he could help ease the pain.

“I got the goods.” He announced, holding up a plastic bag. “Let’s go get ya’ in the shower.”

You stripped out of your clothes, standing naked in the bathroom as Suguru started running the water. Seeing him so attentive like this made you swoon. You truly were lucky to have found someone as kind as him. Suguru made you feel special, like royalty, aside from the whole biting of your clit.

“Alright, there's the soap, unscented per Reddit.” He placed the white bar of soap in your hand. “The fluffiest wash cloth the store had for your perfect pussy.” a fluffy pink cloth was placed in your other hand. “And open your mouth.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.” You did as he said, and he held up a bottle of allergy medication. “To ease the sinus’.” He dropped the pill in your mouth before handing you some water. “Because the next time I come home and find you looking delicious in the living room, I don't want you sneezing when I'm going down on you.”

After swallowing the pill, you laughed. “Looked delicious, huh?” Suguru nodded, his hand reaching into his pockets as you entered the shower.

“Delicious, gorgeous, absolutely radiant.” His Words were as warm and comforting as the water running down your body. “It got me thinking about coming home like that every day, to you, with a couple of kids running around.”

Pulling the shower curtain back, you glowered at him. “Geto Suguru, don't you even think about proposing to me after you bit my clit!” Something flickered in his eyes, amusement as he cocked a dark brown in your direction.

“Okay, no impromptu post clit biting proposals.”

“Thank you!” You breathed out a huff through your nostrils. “Now hurry up and come get in with me.”

“Right, let me just put the ice cream away.”

Your head poked out from behind the curtain, eyes glittering joyfully. “Ice cream?!” Suguru walked backward as he headed into your room.

“Of course! I needed to get my girl a treat after I hurt her.” You watched him turn the corner. “Be right back.”

While you did a little happy dance in the shower, Suguru walked into the living room. Getting down on his knees, he wiggled the loose floorboard by the backdoor and pulled the small wood plank up. With a heavy sigh, Suguru reached into his pocket, pulling out the blue velvet box he had slid inside before he had hurt you. He opened it to examine the ring he picked out for you six months ago.

“Oh well, there's always next time.” The disappointment was thick in his voice as he put the box back in its hiding place. With the floorboard secure, Suguru slowly stripped out of his clothes as he headed back to you.

Nanami Kento:

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You cried out as Nanami gave you a worried look.

“Hang in there. Ijichi is pulling up.”

The sleek black car pulled up, almost making your dislocated shoulder feel better. It held the promise of relief to come. Ijichi got out, rushing towards the two of you as Nanami ushered you forward.

“I'm sorry it took so long. The traffic was terrible. But as soon as you called, I stopped What I was doing to head straight over.”

Nanami shook his head, grabbing the handle of the backseat. “No, don't apologize, Ijichi. We should be thanking you for taking us to the hospital.” You modded as Nanami slowly opened the door.

“Yeah, Ijichi, I hope you weren't doing anything important. Thank you.”

“Oh, well, I was actually taking Gojo home.”

Nanami promptly slammed the door shut. Staring at the dark void of the window. In the reflection of the tinted glass, Nanami could see the look of horror that washed over your face. This wasn't happening. No way, no way. Having Gojo here was both of your worst nightmares.

You stepped back, nervously laughing. “Ya’ know what! L- Let’s walk to the emergency room!” Seeing the opportunity you made, Nanami followed your lead.

“Yes! It's a beautiful evening for a stroll.” Nanami bends down, leaning into your ear. “Walk.”

“Wait! I-I don't think that's wise! Y/N, you're injured!”

You waved your uninjured hand at Ijichi. “Eh, injured, not injured! Who cares!!” The nervousness was as thick as honey in your voice.

The black window slowly rolled down, leaving you and Nanami frozen. Gojo Satoru poked his head out the window, eyeing the both of you with a wide grin. A grin you knew had a vein in Nanami’s head twitching. Gojo hummed, twirling his finger in your direction.

“Let’s see, wet hair, dislocated shoulder, bite marks galore.”

“It's not what it looks like!” Gojo was unfazed by your interjection, his head tilting to look up at your irritated boyfriend.

“Wet hair, hickies, the pure frustration unfinished ‘business’!” A bark of laughter sounded from the back of his throat. “I don't even need to use Six-Eyes to figure this out. Shower sex gone wrong, Nanamin~?” Nanami looked like he was about to throw a black-flash at Gojo while you blushed a darker shade. “No shame! I could give you some pointers if you want!”

Your mind tried to think of some sarcastic retort, but your thoughts were on hold as you heard the car door open. Slowly blinking, you watched a furious Nanami reaching for Gojo. “K-Kento!” You scrambled forward, grabbing his arm with your noninjured arm. “Don’t kill him!” Gojo was snickering, giving Nanami a shit-eating grin. “Let’s just go! Get in the car!”

Ijichi drove the two (three including Gojo) to the emergency room, where your arm was popped back into place and put into a sling. While Nanami stopped to pick up your prescription at the hospital's pharmacy, he glared at Gojo as he showed you his phone screen. He didn’t know why he insisted on coming with the two of you. The man was persistent, not listening, even when Nanami snapped at him to go away. With your prescription in hand, Nanami quietly headed back. He was trying to listen to your conversation.

“See, this one would probably work for you guys,” Gojo said, tapping his screen. “This way, you won’t slip or dislocate your shoulder, ya’ know?”

“Oooh!” The way your eyes glittered with awe had Nanami’s heart skipping a beat. “Oh my god! That’s awesome!”

“What’s so awesome?” You perked up, glancing up at Nanami.

“Babe! Did you know they make shower sex steps?! It suctions to the wall, and I can prop my foot up!”

Nanami trailed his gaze slowly to his blindfolded colleague, who whistled innocently. “Trying to corrupt my girlfriend?” He asked as he gently helped you stand.

“I’m just a friend looking out for my other friends' relationship! Just one slip doesn’t mean shower sex should be a no-go!”

Nanami shook his head, wrapping his arm tentatively around your waist. “Kento, can we get one? Please! I wanna try it out!” You were bouncing with excitement.

“Let's wait six weeks before that; give you some time to heal.” While you were disappointed, you nodded in agreement. This was time to heal, not to get freaky.

But imagine your surprise six weeks later when Gojo dropped a package on your desk. “Have fun!!” Was all he got out before you were shoving past him, rushing to find Nanami. Things were expected to be wet and wild all night.

Choso Kamo:

You stared at the mirror, evening your nose. Choso had accidentally sucker-punched you two hours ago. Having broken your nose. But what sort of sorcerer would you be if you couldn’t fix that? You easily grabbed it and popped it back into place with a sickening crunch. One that had your boyfriend turning three shades paler than he already was.

Your nose was swollen and a little discolored. You’d be bruised for sure, but you didn’t mind. It was like an unpleasurable hickey—a reminder of the fun you and Choso had.

The broken nose didn’t bother you, but despite countless attempts to ensure Choso it was okay, he still sulked. It was too long after that he said he was leaving for a bit. You figured he just needed some time to get over what had happened.

He had been gone for an hour so far, enough time for you to shower and crawl into the clean sheets you both put on. You had anticipated him to be gone longer, so you whirled towards the bedroom door as he creaked open further.

“Welcome home!” Choso’s heart felt like it was beating a million miles a minute. Your cute smile, the warmth of your voice, everything about you made his stomach flutter; no, butterflies, Yuuji said. You gave him the butterflies. “Where did you run off to?”

“I stopped at the store.” He offered you his hand. “Come with me?”

Choso led you back out to the living room. He motioned to various items: a nose splint, medical tape, and an ice pack. Then, there were all different kinds of snacks and candy, all of which were your favorites.

Your boyfriend never went out to clear his head. No, he went out to get you things to make you feel better. The compassionate gesture made your heart crawl up your throat as lights shimmered over your eyes as they filled with tears. None of your exes had ever done anything remotely sweet. His gesture proved to you how much Choso cared, how sweet he was.

“Oh no, why are you crying?!”

“Cho—”

“I-I’m so sorry! Does your nose hurt? Let’s see!” His warm, frantic eyes grazed over the table. Hands were picking up bottles. “Aspirin, aspirin!”

Your slender fingers gently wrapped around his trembling hand, holding it. “N-No Cho—“ you were too stunned to speak, “baby, this is so thoughtful and sweet. Thank you, no one’s ever done something like this for me before.” The worry on his cute face faded into a more relaxed expression.

“Oh?” You hummed, interlocking your fingers with him. “So I did a good job?” If the man had a tail, you were sure he’d be wagging it.

Choso watched as you stood on your tip toes before petting him on the head. “You did a good job, baby; seriously, you’re the best boyfriend ever.” The wide grin on his face warmed your heart as he excitedly showered you all the things he bought.

He truly was the best boyfriend in the world. You must have done something right in your past life to deserve him. God, he was so precious! You just wanted to chew on his cheeks. But that would have to wait until your nose was healed. For now, you were perfectly content with him putting the nose splint on your face before he snuggled you on the couch.

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alien-magnolia · 1 year

Text

Daddy Issues - Joel Miller x Hyperfem!reader

Fic description: 18+ mdni. pre!outbreak dom!joel miller x hyperfeminine subby!fem!reader, major size!kink, age gap (Joel in his early 40’s, reader in early 20’s) slow burn at first, daddy issues, daddy!kink, unprotected sex, lil bit of corruption/innocence kink + slight breeding kink. 2.4K words.

A/n: Will probably write a sequel.

You loved living in your quaint little suburb of Austin, Texas. You lived with your dad, and only your dad. He wasn’t too nice, though, yet at least your house was. You just didn’t have a good relationship with him. He didn’t take care of you, didn’t praise you, never really cared for anything you’d do. Yet, you loved your little suburb. The weather was beautiful, especially in early summer, late May. It was on May 11th that your new neighbor moved in. The moving truck spent a few days parked in the driveway, the sun beating down on the black asphalt.

You saw two middle aged men, a pickup truck, a girl around the age of twelve to thirteen with them. You didn’t pay much attention to them until a few days later, one early morning, around 8am. You were starting the car you and your dad shared, the usual route was off to his work, then off to a day full of classes at the local university. Just to your luck, your new neighbors came out to start their car as well, a sleek pickup truck. Your dad grunts at them, hands on his hips, his usual stance (which did annoy the hell out of you…)

The two men began to walk across the driveway, most likely to say hello. The one with the black hair was Tommy. Him and your dad had hit it off, and were off to the side viewing the tools in the neighbor’s trunk. You said hello to the girl in the back of the car as well, her name was Sarah. The other neighbor now rushes out the front door, shouting at Tommy to hurry it up. You take a look at him. He looks right at you. Fuck. He was beautiful, his brown eyes simply pierced through you. You froze.

“Hey there,” his smooth Texan accent drawled out at you. “Hi,” you reply, shortly and abruptly. “I’m Joel. That there’s Tommy. We just moved in next door,” he says, his voice gruff yet his tone gentle, as if to not spook you. He was intimidating — you were barely over five feet tall. He was probably six, and then some. You reply back, telling him your name, and then pointing out your dad, who was still talking to Tommy. Joel quickly walked over to them, and exchanged pleasantries with your dad. The group then got into the pickup truck, yet not before giving you another look when he left. You stood there for a bit, mulling over the interaction in your head, until your dad nudges you to snap out of it. You think about it for the rest of the day, during your lecture, during the drive home. Joel made you feel a certain way. He looked so big, so strong. You saw how nicely he treated his daughter. That did something to you.

A few months later -

Your father and Tommy had gotten on pretty well. They’d spend a lot of time together. Him and Joel — not so much. He’d always leave you with Joel as he went to the garage with Tommy. At first, it was awkward. His daughter, Sarah would sometimes be with the two of you, and you’d all watch a movie. It was just as awkward with her, and without.

One day however, the two of you started talking. Your dad was in the garage with Tommy as usual, you were on the couch with Joel. It was an incredibly hot summer day, and you were wearing a white top and a very short, pink miniskirt. You folded your hands over your lap as you saw Joel’s eyes shamelessly rake over you.

During your conversation with him, you found out more about his job as a contractor, he told you what he would do on a day to day basis. You told him about college, your social life, the both of you even shared an interest in music. It was all fine, until he asked you if you had a boyfriend.

“Um. Actually, no. I don’t,” you meekly reply to him. “Don’t believe that’s true, darlin.’ I’m sure a pretty girl like you has peaked at least a few guy’s interests,” he replies. God, that voice. It was going to kill you one day. You shake your head, letting him know that it’s true. He scoffs, and then freezes. “Shit. I’m sorry. You’re young. Shouldn’t prey on you like that, darlin.’ You should just go home,” he murmurs, his voice quiet, he was most likely embarrassed. What the hell was he doing? He couldn’t be with the neighbor’s daughter, and he was twice her age.

“Umm. Joel,” your dainty, gel manicured hand grabs his wrist, effectively stopping him in his tracks. He turns around to meet your doe eyes. “Don’t apologize. I feel the same way.” His face lights up, taking your hand in his. You feel his other hand cup your cheek, engulfing your entire cheek in the palm of his hand. “I’m glad, darlin.’ You always look so fuckin’ sweet, so adorable,” he smirks. You look up at him, and before you knew it, your lips met his.

His kiss is soft, gentle, as if he’s scared to hurt you. He tasted like a hint of tobacco, you feel his stubble against your cheek. His kiss then gets harsher, his large body cornering yours against the wall. He stops for a bit, looking out the window, worriedly. You ask him what had him so concerned. “Looks like my brother and your dad left. Wouldn’t want your daddy findin’ out that his little girl is gettin’ fucked by the neighbor, huh?” You moan at his comment, he chuckles. “I’m probably even older than your dad, huh, sweetheart?,” he taunts, his soft lips leaving kisses over your cheek, trailing down to kiss at your neck for a bit.

“Y-yes. Joel. Please…,” you whine out, desperate for more of anything from the man. You feel his broad chest against yours, his hands now tightly gripping your hips, squeezing them, exploring your body. Your hands did the same, now wrapped around his neck. He lifts you up, carrying you up the stairs, into his room. His biceps strain against your small arms, God — how you wanted those strong arms around you, holding you!!

He puts you down onto his bed, alongside himself , pulling you into his lap, gazing at you hungrily. “Look at you, darlin.’ You’re a fuckin’ dream, I swear. Got a sweet lil’ thing like you, all to my fuckin’ self.” You shudder at his words, blushing. “Want to be yours, Joel. Would want that so bad,” you meekly murmur to him. He chuckled again. “So shy f’ me, huh?,” he says to you, bringing you in for another, stronger kiss. You run your hands through his hair as he pushes you down into the bed, his body caging you close to him. His large biceps rest by your head, as his veiny hands squeeze and knead at your chest. “Perfect tits you got, sugar. Lemme see ‘em.” He helps you pull off his shirt, and you do the same. His large hands fit so perfectly over your tits, he is just entranced by you.

You feel his hand slide down your torso, your pink nails coming up to grasp at his wide, hairy forearm. You gasp in shock as you feel two calloused fingers slip in between your folds, gently massaging your clit. Fuck. So gently. You were losing it. “Joel. Joel. I — um,” you try to express something to him, your words were failing you. He was calm and collected as ever, his dark eyes burning through you, as he watched you come undone for him, your hand coming up to cup his face as to ask for another kiss, his soft, thick lips on yours, his nose on your cheek, his gruff grunts that drove you insane.

“Ready? Ever had, um, ever done this before?,” he asks, stumbling over his words. “No. But I want to. You won’t hurt me,” you reply. “Fuck,” he quietly grunts to himself. “Never even done this before, sweetheart. Don’t worry, I got you, princess. Gonna show you what it means to take your man’s cock. It’s gonna feel good, you’ll see, darlin.’ But you tell me if I hurt you, ‘right?,” he speaks down to you, patronizing but soft. It made you feel cared for, loved. “Yes, daddy.” Shit. It accidentally slipped out. Your scared gaze met his, his eyes only bore into you more and more.

“What did you just call me?,” he asks, slowly. “Fuck, say it again, darlin.” You giggle, his tongue meeting yours as he pushes into your mouth. “You want me to be your daddy, huh, sweetie? Want me to take care of you, fuck you good?,” his voice having a hint of possessiveness in it. “Y-yes. Daddy. Please…”you beg him at this point, his fingers still working you open.

“Little cunts so wet f’me already. Think she can take me in? Think so,” he grunts, his fingers leaving your soaked folds as you whine. You feel his soft cockhead slap against your clit for a bit, his veiny, thick cock soaked with precum already. God - it was wide. So wide that you weren’t sure if he’ll fit.

“S’so big, Joel. Won’t fit…” you moan out. “It’ll fit, baby. Daddy’ll make it fit, don’t you worry your pretty lil’ head ‘bout it, sweetie.”

With that, you feel him slide into you slowly. “Now you tell me if I’m hurtin’ you, ‘kay?” You nod slowly, your face growing redder by the second as his thick shaft slides into you, ever so slowly. You feel his pulsing cock inside you, he grunts as your walls squeeze and milk him for all he’s got. “So fuckin’ tight. First time takin’ this cock, she’s doin’ so well, sugar,” he coos at you, lost in pleasure as you squeeze around him.

He finally bottoms out, his soft tip hitting your g-spot so perfectly! You whine at him to go deeper, faster, you craved to just be stuffed full of him for as long as you could. His chest hair meets your smooth chest as he presses himself down on you, his full body weight enveloping your tiny body. “Gotta be patient, darlin.’ Gonna give it to ya.”

You felt him rock into you deeper and deeper, the veins on his cock brushing against your tight tunnel, his balls ever so softly hitting your lips as he rocked in and out of you, his pubic hair meeting yours. The musky scent of his sweat, his biceps bulging next to your neck, his dark brown eyes staring onto your bouncing little body. To him, you were the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on. He wanted to make sure you knew that.

“Joel. D-Daddy. Gonna cum. Please, fuck — want it in me!,” you squeal out to him. “In you, sugar? That’s what ya want? For me to knock up a sweet lil’ thing like you? No, no, gotta wait for that, hun,” he tuts at you. “What would your real daddy say if he found out, huh? If he saw his girl all round and heavy, all cause of a man who’s just as old as him?” You moan out in response. “You want that, huh, darlin?’ Wanna be full of me?,” he taunts.

You nod desperately. He does not listen, and pulls out, but not before giving you a few last, fulfilling thrusts. His cum is splayed out all over your soft tummy, he leans off from on top of you and goes to get a towel to wipe you down. You feel so sleepy, so good, so taken care of as he lays back down onto the bed, his big arms coming to turn you over, so you could lay on the safe haven that is his chest.

You lay your head down onto him, you hear his slow heartbeat. His gruff voice speaks up. “Didja like that, darlin’? Showed you a good time, didn’t I, sweet thing?” “Y-yes. You really did, Joel. What about my dad, though? Feel like I should get home…,” you nervously trail off.

“Home? Now? When it’s so dark out? Not safe for you, sugar. You just stay over at mines. I’ll get you a blanket and one of my shirts to sleep in, yeah? We’ll deal with everythin’ else in the mornin.’” You nod, agreeing with him. You rolled over to smell his pillow, god — it smelled just like him, so entrancing. You felt so taken care of as this older man ran around his house to get you a towel, some clean clothes. He treated you so, so, nicely! You felt so safe with him, most importantly. You wanted him to be with you, protect you, make you feel good, like he did now. You smile to yourself as you think about it, interrupted by his entrance into the room.

“Got one of my shirts for ya, darlin.’ And if you get too hot, you let me know, I’ll turn on the ac for ya,” he gently says, as he walks over to join you back in bed. You smile, and gingerly take one of his shirts to put on. It was so huge on you! He brings you onto his lap, his veiny hand coming over to grasp at your cheek again. “Doin’ ok? Just checkin’, didn’t want to hurt ya too much or anythin.”

“I’m okay, Joel. Don’t worry. I should have spent this time with you earlier,” you confess to him. You loved being around him, especially if he treated you in this way. You didn’t have to worry about a thing, as long as he was there with you. You had a feeling that you weren’t just any girl to him.

Maybe you were right. Joel hasn’t felt about anyone like this in years, until the first time he saw you, your pink miniskirt, sparkly necklaces and all, he knew he had to have you. He got you, and that was all that mattered, as you drifted off to sleep in his big arms, he couldn’t help but think how he needed to keep being with a sweet girl like you, how innocent you were, and how goddamn lucky he was to have you all to himself from now on.

a/n: thanks for reading! if you like this post pls help a writer out and reblog :)

#joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller headcanon #joel miller hurt/comfort #joel miller hot #dom!joel miller #joel miller x hyperfem!reader #joel miller #tlou smut #liz writes 🖤#liz’s masterlist

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lightofthemoonglow · 7 months

Text

kinktober day seven and eight

Virginity | Waxplay | Stuck in Wall

Breeding | Gore | Master & Slave

third person reader because that is how it turned out oops

Sequel here

Thomas Hewitt

The day had finally come.

The wedding dress is older than the bride. The bride is considered an adult in every part of the world, in basically every sense. And yet she still wears a dress that Luda Mae had brought for herself a long time ago, back when she had hopes for a whole other life that had never come to pass. It’s obvious why she’s doing this, but it’s harmless in comparison to everything else about the situation.

One interaction had been all it had taken for this deal to be worked out. The bride had come from a family of carnival workers that had passed through Travis County that had decided to stick around, her mother becoming friendly with Luda Mae despite the two of them living seemingly very different lives. All the girl had done was shyly ask Tommy about his job at the slaughterhouse as she offered him a bowl of the chili she had brought over. This was some good meat. I bet you had something to do with it. And Luda Mae had noticed the shift in her son’s body language, how he wasn’t as on guard as he normally was for a moment.

It had started as joke between the two mothers. And then they had started seriously discussing it. It made sense. The pool of candidates was already small and neither of their children were exactly…popular. The bride had struggled to finish school after fighting tooth and nail to get in. Thomas had dropped out. Their families were already close. And then, the tornado happened, killing the bride’s father. It was as good a time as any, they had figured. The town was dying slowly, the writing was on the wall. They needed to make it happen before the bride left town for good.

And so, they had wound up in the backyard of the house, the town preacher pronouncing the young couple man and wife, on edge due to the gun that Charlie had aimed at him, ready to pull the trigger if this marriage wound up not being true in the eyes of the lord. While he didn’t believe in that shit, Luda Mae did and his sister’s word was law in their home. The bride was a vision in antique white, her voice trembling as she said ‘I do’. Thomas only grunted in response, Charlie snapping ‘the boy damn well does!’ when the preacher tried to get the larger man to speak.

“I’m glad it’s you,” Luda Mae says to the bride after the cake has been cut and everyone is milling about the yard, the preacher nowhere to be seen. He would never be seen again, but no one would notice or care. “You always had a kind word for my boy.”

And for the first time since her hesitantly uttered vows, the bride speaks. “Of course. He’s a good boy. This was all just a little fast, Mrs. Luda Mae.” But that was intentional, something she would realize later. The mother of the bride had all but dragged her down the aisle. The woman had cried, wailed as she told her daughter that she need to do this, so she could be taken care of, implying that it wouldn’t be long until the bride’s parents were reunited.

After the party, the happy couple was led upstairs, where they were to stay all night. “I want a grandbaby by next spring,” Luda Mae instructed. It wasn’t the wistful dreaming of a woman who yearned to more little ones to spoil. Well, it was, but her tone was that of an order. They were going to grow the family, one way or another.

The room was dim, the sun peeking through the curtains. Thomas makes no move to take off his mask, choosing to just stare at his new wife as she walked towards the bed. The dress is pulled off, revealing a white slip covering her everyday undergarments. She folds it up, so it can be put away in the morning. Maybe it will even be used again one day. The sun shines down on her as she lays on the bed, waiting for him to join her.

“It’s alright. If you…want to.” She speaks softly, not approach him too closely. “I know your mama said that we have to, but I can wait.” Thomas is staring at her, watching her legs twitch slightly, fascinated by the dark peaks on her chest. Her breathing is steady, she’s not looking for an escape. Her eyes are meeting his whenever he allows it. Thomas knows what to do. He’s seen farm animals do it and Charlie had shown him a movie once, short and filthy. Luda Mae had found out about it and been cross for weeks.

The real thing is different. Thomas feels almost cornered as he tentatively touches the hem of the slip. His fingers graze her bare skin and he flinches, which makes her sit up and grab his hand.

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” she coos, stroking his hand with her thumb. “Tommy…I know neither of us exactly wanted this to happen. But if it had to be anyone, I’m glad it was you. I’ve always liked you.” His face didn’t matter to her, she didn’t care that he had to hide what had been eaten away by the sickness inside of him. He wasn’t going to kiss her, he couldn’t get to that point. Not yet.

They needed to do what was expected of them first.

It takes a while, the sun is almost gone when Thomas is finally ready to get on top of her, still mostly dress, only his nice trousers unzipped. She’s naked, comfortable with allowing him to see, to explore. Her body is warm, soft, and he’s so hard it hurts until he pulls it out of his trousers. But he doesn’t put it in, not yet. He can’t quite manage that last little bit of movement, not yet.

“It could happen, Tommy. Us havin’ a baby because of tonight.” She strokes his arm, not touching his face, not until he’s ready. And maybe that won’t be tonight. “I like the idea. Go on and feel how much, darlin’.” She spreads her legs slightly to let him know he could touch her. His prodding fingers found something warm and wet, and when he pushes, a finger slips inside. “It’s good when it’s wet like that. Means I’m excited. Like you are now.”

Another fingers joins the first and she gasps, but she doesn’t stop him. “We could make a baby tonight. You and me…” The images start coming to Thomas as he fingers explore her. His wife’s belly swollen with their child, her tits full of milk, everyone knowing that she belonged to him and only him-

He’s inside of her before he can stop himself. She gasps, grabbing onto his shoulders as his cock fills her up. Her breasts bounce as he thrusts, slow and experimental at first. “Good boy, good boy,” she whispers, her body suddenly filles with sensations she’s never felt before. Thomas is equally overwhelmed, she’s so warm and wet and good and hot and everything he’s ever wanted. She’s gripping onto him tightly, he’s in awe of the sight of himself inside of her.

Thick fingers stuff his seed back inside of her after he’s done, and he prays for the first time in years that it worked.

#thomas hewitt x reader #leatherface x reader #slasher x reader #kinktober 2023 #holy shit this one got away from me

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