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appocalipse · 3 months

Note

heyy if ur taking requests could u maybe do like bestfriends steve + reader where steve, eddie, nancy and robin have to pick up reader from a party and she’s like REAL drunk and just idk super clingy w steve and doesn’t wanna not be touching him. maybe eddie, nancy and robin all make fun of him for it but they acc find it rly cute.

thank you for your request! ♥♥♥ | 2.2k words

"Stevie!"

You collide into him suddenly, nearly knocking him back a step or two with the force of your momentum; there's a smile on Steve's face when you look up at him through eyes that are more than a little hazy with inebriation. You're drunk. Probably way past drunk, if the way the world won't seem to hold still is anything to go by, but you don't care. There are other things vying for your attention—like how warm he feels against you, how safe he makes you feel, how pretty he looks from up close...

"Whoa," Steve says as you lean even further into him and loop your arms around his waist in a tight hug. "How much did you have to drink, exactly?"

He doesn't mean it in a mean way, which is why you grin up at him from where you've got your cheek pressed firmly to his chest. You can feel his heart beating under the palm of your hand now, a steady and calming rhythm that soothes something inside of you.

"Dunno," you reply, grinning stupidly when you catch sight of maybe three copies of Eddie Munson standing off to Steve's left; all of them have identical amused looks on their faces. "Might've had, like, a couple..."

Steve sighs deeply, though there's no exasperation or disappointment to be found in his expression when he tilts your face upwards to look you over properly. You just beam dopily at him, because he's so pretty right now you don't know what else to do.

"Dude," Eddie speaks up, drawing Steve's gaze away from you while your own attention goes back to pressing yourself even more snugly into him, "she is totally sloshed."

You frown, shaking your head in fervent disagreement.

"Am not!"

"Sure you aren't, sweetheart," Eddie agrees placidly, but you get the impression he doesn't really mean it.

Before you can point this out, however, the blurry shape of Robin Buckley steps forward. The room is dark with flashing strobe lights and smoky with incense and cigarette smoke, but you'd recognize her voice anywhere.

"Who let you drink this much?" Robin asks as she lifts a hand up to brush some hair back from your forehead.

It's oddly soothing and so you lean into the contact with a happy hum. Robin and the others laugh — but then again, it sounds kinder than mean, the kind of laugh that bubbles up when you find something unexpectedly endearing, and so you don't mind as much as you maybe should.

"Nobody," you mumble as you press your face into the side of Steve's neck and take a deep breath in; his scent is the same as always, earthy and warm with an underlying hint of that stupid spray he likes to use sometimes. "I'm here alone. 'Cause Steve here blew me off for you guys, but that's okay," you say, even though, to be fair, it sort of isn't true — he didn't blow you off.

"Hey," Steve starts, sounding half-indignant and half-apologetic all at once. He's got an arm around your shoulder now, supporting you and keeping you upright, which makes you want to tangle yourself up in him completely. "You didn't tell me you wanted me to come hang out with you tonight!"

You sigh mournfully against his skin, feeling wistful all of a sudden. It's true. You hadn't told him. That was partially due to the fact that you had been trying to prove to yourself that you weren't so desperately and helplessly infatuated with him that you needed his presence constantly, but that plan had obviously backfired on you spectacularly.

"No," you mutter unhappily as Steve moves the two of you towards a nearby couch. "But I missed you. Don't wanna miss you."

Nancy, Robin, and Eddie, who are watching the two of you with expressions of varying degrees of amusement, exchange looks. Steve pretends not to notice, probably because he knows he won't like what they have to say if he hears it, and instead guides you down onto the cushions next to him. "You're drunk."

"You're pretty," you reply without hesitation, even though you're very clearly changing the subject. "It's unfair, y'know?"

You hear Robin snort, followed by a quiet thud like someone's just been slapped on the arm, and you know it's her who laughed, and that it must have been Nancy who'd shut her up. You don't know where Eddie is; you're not even sure when he wandered off, to be honest. You're too focused on Steve and the way his face looks under the colorful flashing lights.

"Oh yeah?" he asks, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too widely at your comment. His eyes are bright with laughter when you meet his gaze and nod confidently. "How do I get 'unfair', exactly?"

"'S all in the face," you say matter-of-factly, your own fingers trailing down his cheek in an almost absentminded gesture. "Kinda makes it hard to think about anything else sometimes, if I'm being real here. Like, it's not really fair, 'cause then what are we supposed to talk about? Oh, oh—and then there's your hair!"

"My hair?"

Robin wheezes somewhere behind you, which would have made you giggle if you were still paying attention to the people in the room besides Steve, but you're not.

"Mmhmm," you hum, your eyes running over the soft brown locks on top of his head. "Love it. Wanna touch it all the time. Y'see, Steve? You see? This is why it's not fair at all. And, and—" you trail off here for dramatic effect, squinting at him theatrically before leaning closer with your hand cupped to the side of your mouth, as if you're about to share something private. "—the way you make my insides feel? So, so unfair. Totally your fault, buddy."

"Wha-" Steve croaks out, looking alarmed and caught off guard by your drunken confession. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh," you regain your serious tone, frowning at him in a somewhat bemused manner when he continues to gape at you. "Not 'sposed to tell you. S'not the rules."

Eddie barks out a laugh somewhere off to your left, but Steve ignores him. "Rules?"

"Yeah, 's against the rules, dummy," you say, like he should've already known that. "Gotta follow the rules! Duh. Steve."

"Yeah, Steve, duh," Robin pipes up, earning herself a glare from Steve as well as a smirk from Eddie. "Oops, sorry. Please, continue."

"Can I touch your hair? Like, please, 'cause I might die if I don't, 'kay? If that's okay. Gotta test the theory. Just a little bit, though." You can tell by his expression that he wants to laugh, and that he's also mildly worried that you've lost your mind. "Please?"

Robin, Eddie and Nancy have their hands clapped over their mouths to contain their laughter. You're too drunk to notice, but Steve narrows his eyes at them in warning. "Yes," he says. "Just—yeah, go ahead."

With a little noise of excitement, you reach out to card your fingers through his hair. He smells really good — like clean laundry and fresh pine trees — and the feel of his hair in your palm is exactly what you had imagined, though you're loathe to pull your hand away now that you've felt it.

Steve goes unnaturally still as you press your face into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, a move he should have expected but didn't, and you sigh happily when the scent of his cologne hits you full force. He's like a living, breathing, cuddly teddy bear, you think, a combination of warmth, softness, and comfort all rolled up in one gorgeous, handsome, unobtainable package.

"You're warm," you mumble, feeling like you could fall asleep right now. "So, so warm. 'S like you've got a space heater in your chest, 'n that's like, so awesome."

He blinks a few times, momentarily speechless as he tries to come to terms with the fact that you are, in fact, drunk enough to be saying whatever the hell comes to your mind. "Uh, thanks?"

"Smell nice too," you murmur, hugging him tighter to you. "Like, wow. Love your hair, like, love love."

His cheeks are burning hot now, his heart beating erratically in his chest when he notices Eddie staring at the two of you with a knowing gleam in his eye. "That's—thank you, but, hey, come on now," Steve says, his voice faltering a little. "Let's get you home, okay?"

"I don't wanna."

"Don't you wanna sleep in your bed?"

You pause, considering his words, and eventually concede that, yes, your bed does sound lovely right about now, so you give him a brief nod in response. "I guess, but can you come too?"

He chokes on air, but manages to play it off by clearing his throat. "What—to your bed? No!"

"Why not?"

Steve shifts a little under your intense, alcohol-addled scrutiny; he feels strangely guilty, as though he's letting you down by saying no. "Because you're drunk?" he says, feeling flustered and unreasonably nervous all of a sudden.

You scrunch up your face in a pout. "Oh, that's a dumb reason."

Steve chuckles and you sigh happily again, because you love his laugh and everything else about him, and he seems to realize this, given the way his expression softens. "Come on, you drunkard. Let's go home," he says gently, tugging on your arm in an attempt to get you to stand.

You resist at first, shaking your head stubbornly as you hold onto him. "Can't. My legs don't work anymore. They're all wobbly."

Steve closes his eyes for a moment, huffs out a soft laugh, and you can't help but grin up at him. He's so pretty that, like, how is that even allowed? How can you be around him and not spontaneously combust or something?

"Well, what if I carried you?"

"Like a princess?"

Steve looks at you with an expression you can't decipher — it's halfway between incredulous and endeared, and it makes your heart feel too big for your rib cage.

"How romantic," Nancy observes.

"So long as she doesn't throw up on him," Eddie adds, nodding sagely in agreement.

"Oh, I hope she does," Robin says, with a devious smile, "he'd deserve it for being such a coward."

"I'm...right here, guys, and I can still hear you." Steve finally says, throwing them a scathing look that only makes them laugh. "If you're not going to be helpful, you can wait in the car."

"As if," Eddie counters.

Steve opens his mouth to tell him where exactly he can stick his opinions, when you grab the front of his shirt and drag him closer.

"Steve," you say, the smile falling from your face as a sudden thought occurs to you. "Are you mad at me? Because I can go home by myself. That's okay."

"Hey, no," he replies softly, "I'm not mad at you, sweetheart. Not ever."

"'Sweetheart'? Really?" Eddie mutters to Nancy, who elbows him in the ribs when he doesn't lower his voice in time. "Ow, okay, okay—just saying. Don't want them to keep dancing around each other forever, is all."

"I'm not dancing," you tell him, completely unaware of Eddie's snickering, "I don't have any shoes on, Eddie. Wouldn't be able to dance without shoes on. Silly."

"My bad," Eddie says, his lips twitching with badly concealed laughter, "forgive me."

Steve scowls at him before turning his attention back to you, his face so close to yours that you can momentarily feel the tickle of his breath against your skin. "Okay, come on," he says, "up we go."

And then, in one swift movement, he slides his arm under your knees and scoops you up into his arms. You let out a squeak of surprise and automatically wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself.

"Oh, oh, oh," you say excitedly, "you really are gonna carry me."

"Told you so." Steve adjusts his grip on you and makes his way towards the exit. "Are you good? Am I hurting you?"

You shake your head slowly, grinning as you stare at him from a whole new angle. "No," you tell him, feeling much more awake than you were moments before. "This is...this is like, actually kinda cool."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you repeat, smiling shyly back at him. "Feel like a real life Cinderella now. Whoa, you're, like, super strong."

"Yeah, Stevie, you're 'super strong.'" Eddie teases, waggling his eyebrows when Steve sends him a quick glare. "Aw, don't look at me like that. It's cute. The two of you."

Nancy doesn't tease like Robin and Eddie do. She walks behind Steve, making sure to stay a couple steps behind to give the two of you some privacy. Even so, when you look over your shoulder to make sure nobody's listening, she gives you a wink and a small thumbs-up that makes you smile.

The parking lot is filled with teenagers all wandering aimlessly in groups, so it takes Steve a while to navigate his way through the crowd. By the time he finds the spot where he parked his BMW, you've grown drowsy enough to rest your head on his shoulder.

Eddie immediately pops open the door to the backseat, slapping it a few times as he looks over at Steve and grins. "Hurry it up, lover boy," he drawls out, "she looks half-asleep already."

"She's fine," Steve shoots back, frowning in annoyance when Eddie and Robin both pretend to yawn exaggeratedly, "shut up. I hate you guys."

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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months

Text

come on home

in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid

inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers

wc 2857

warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending

a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3

She hung up on you.

Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better.

Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either.

You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.

So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.

What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring.

“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there.

“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?”

Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows.

“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?”

“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.”

You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside.

“Nice, nice. What else?”

“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.”

“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening.

“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.”

A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself.

“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.”

“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.”

When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice.

“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”

You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.”

“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice.

“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.”

Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better.

“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.”

Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry.

“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.”

“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless.

“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.”

Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart.

“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.”

Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again.

“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle.

Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life.

“Then I’m on my way.”

Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.

After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime.

You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.

“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?”

You shake your head and gasp a small sob.

Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders.

His hand smooths over the back of your hair.

“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”

You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.

Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear.

“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.”

“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight.

“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?”

“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.”

There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.”

You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea.

Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave.

“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.

At least, until he goes home.

Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up.

“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.

“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you.

“That among other things.”

“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?”

The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does.

“Okay.”

It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

His lips pull into a melancholy smile.

“Anytime.”

There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.

But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close.

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist.

“I can’t do that, honey.”

“Why not?”

His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently.

“Because we’re not together anymore.”

“Why not?”

Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is.

Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down.

“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.”

In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.

“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.”

He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke.

“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.”

You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again.

“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.”

Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales.

“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.”

When he kisses you, it feels like home.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

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virgincels · 4 months

Text

BEEP !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. ddlg, pacifier, cockwarming, p in v, fluffy smut, implied age gap, icky ddlg stuff .. like yk

note. we r trying this again.. tags didn’t work last time bc tumblr hates me :( commission 4 the loveliest sweetest ever @miss-oranje-disco-dancer :3 !!! THANK U SM FOR THE COMM love u with all my heart hope u enjoy this and that there are no mistakes… if u would like to commission or tip me the info is in my pinned :3

Leon hears you before he sees you. There is one sound that grates on him and another that makes his dick as hard as it can get. At least, his brain is telling him he should be hard, and he knows he should be, but his dick is crazy stubborn. Stubborn is his way of describing it, his doctor calls it an erectile dysfunction. Not true. His dick functions when it wants to function, okay?

Taking Viagra is optional these days, shit don’t work for him no more. He takes it for fun, reminiscing on the good ol’ days when his dick got hard from the way the wind blew. It doesn’t work so it’s redundant and Leon has started to think he just likes popping pills. Makes him feel twenty-seven and hot. He’s Viagra-resistant. Like Super Gonorrhoea is to antibiotics.

The squeak of your teeth against the rubbery nub of your pacifier is a delight. All the blood in his brain rushes south like a crew scrambling to raise the masts on a ship, it has nowhere to go though, no dick to raise. You've unlocked a new level of excitement within Leon, instead of boners he gets blood clots. How cute. Really, that’s so fun, ain’t it?

The beep! of that goddamn plastic scanner, however, is not welcome in this house. Especially not in his home office turned place of refuge. Leon swears to God he’s developed misophonia. As your daddy, that kind of behaviour is unacceptable, he shouldn't be swearing at all, but this is Leon speaking, not daddy. Daddy is a saint, Leon is pissed off. He only wanted to do something nice for his baby. Nothing ever works out in his favour, he must’ve been born under an unlucky star, or walked under a lot of ladders, crossed one too many black cats.

That one good deed backfired, and now he would rather— Oh, shit.

“Uh-oh,” you mumble, the start of a cheeky grin lining your face. The pacifier muffles your words, it’s plain pink and heart-shaped like your ass. ‘Cause you’re a tasteful little thing. No excessive prints, no lettering that reads Daddy's Girl ♥︎ which Leon had perversely hoped for you to choose.

Uh-oh indeed. He has filled out an entire (probably) super important form in a pink gel pen. Not just any pink gel pen, a strawberry-scented, glittery pink gel pen.

“What did daddy say about this, baby?” Leon asks, and he’s trying to be serious, but god are you cute, and since when has he cared about work? Hunnigan will give him an earful, he wishes for a mouthful, that he’ll ignore because Leon is so kind. He cares so much about saving the world and whatnot.

(Paperwork doesn’t save the world anyway, he saves it periodically, she should cut him some slack.)

“You can’t come into daddy’s office when he’s not home.” That’s a rule. Written on a Miffy notepad in, you guessed it, pink glitter gel pen. A combined effort to revamp the Ten Commandments. Rule number five - Thou shalt not enter Daddy’s place of labour. God, he should do stand-up.

You shrug, pointing at your pacifier in an act of defiance. The scanner remains gripped tightly in your hand, and he can tell you’re itching to make it beep! once more.

Leon hooks his finger in the curved handle of your pacifier, there’s resistance, you hold onto it, clamped down on the nub— He tickles your tummy and out it pops.

“Not fair!” You wipe the spit from your chin on your sleeve. A pout forming at the injustice of it all.

“You can’t come into daddy’s office when he’s not home,” he repeats, “I think you should apologise to Daddy.”

Slowly, you turn around to bare your ass to him, the panties you’re wearing have an oversized bow sewn to the back of them. The fabric is slightly wrinkled from where you’ve been sitting and playing, he smooths it out.

Leon’s never seen these before, they look expensive, silk not cotton. He reminds himself to check his bank account when you leave. He’ll forget until he sees you wearing an even nicer pair later on in the week. The cycle repeats. You are living one lavish life off a civil servant’s salary.

“You’re too big for spankings, aren’t you, big girl?” Leon’s hands are gentle on your hips, he turns you back around. “Big girls say sorry.”

Petulance comes and goes. You’re a good girl at heart, bottom lip quivering when you lurch forward to sit in his lap. “Sorry, Daddy,” you sniffle.

“Aw, baby,” he coos. “It’s okay, daddy isn’t—“

Beep!

You scanned his dick. Good one. Sneaky little thing. He oughta go back on his words and spank you raw.

“You think you’re funny, huh, little lady?” Leon huffs out a laugh, and you nod while giggling. So proud of yourself. “Alright, get outta here.” He stands you up, but you crawl under his desk like a pet. The cutest little bedbug in all of history. Leon would never call pest control on you. Pinky swear.

The scanner sits by his feet, and you rest your head on his thigh, watching him work idly. Then you grow bored, naughty hands making their way up his legs. In one swift motion, you tug the front of his sweats down, his flaccid cock drops onto his thigh. Limp and sad. It’s ugly like this, Leon is more than a little ashamed. So… So not dick-like. Innocuous. Harmless.

(Not that his dick was causing any harm before, maybe to your cervix, but never on purpose. Only ‘cause you asked him to fuck you like that. His little lady wants it rough.)

To put it simply, shit looks like a fucking worm. You bat at his cock like a kitten, tongue sticking out to lick over the half-hidden tip.

“Okay,” Leon says. This is happening.

“Mmph…” You engulf the tip in your warm mouth, suckling like you do your pacifier, there’s the slightest scrape of teeth, Leon doesn’t mind.

“That sending you to sleep, cutie?” Leon pats your head as you blink up at him sleepily. He wants to take you to work with him. Let you set up your toys beneath his desk, hand you a juice box, a fruit snack, his cock at your will. Put it in your mouth, jerk him off, sit on it. Yeah. Sounds like a dream. That should be his treat for all the world-saving he does. No bonus, just a Bring Your Girlfriend to Work Day. Bring Your Girlfriend to Work and Engage in Public Sex With Her Everyday. That’s more like it.

Who else is going to warm his cock when it’s feeling all alone? Hunnigan most certainly won’t. And he might’ve wanted that before, but Leon S. Kennedy has been domesticated, and the only mouth he wants on his dick is yours. You do a damn good job at it. Treat his dick so well, that soft fuck don’t deserve it.

You pull off of his cock with a slurp. The drool pooling in your mouth dribbles down your chin, you use his sweats as a napkin, rubbing your face into the fabric to clean yourself up. Your mess is his mess. He finds it cute.

“Baby’s all done?” Leon’s thumb traces the shape of your lip, your Cupid’s bow, your puffy bottom lip. Always juts out ‘cause you’re always pouting about one thing or the other. Leaning into his palm, you shake your head, shifting from your knees to your butt. Cross-legged on the ground you push the gas cylinder on his spinny chair. There is the deflated sound of his chair sinking and you hum in satisfaction, level with his cock.

“Careful, lift your little fingers,” he warns when you grab the underside of his seat to try and wheel him closer. You do as he says, anything to get his cock in your mouth. Leon wheels forward, and you situate yourself between his thighs once more, lips wrapping around his dick. You take inch by inch, closing your eyes once you get to the midway point, then you swallow around his cock— Fuck, that got him twitching. Your eyes open, and you giggle, the vibration goes straight to his core. His cock grows thicker and heavier by the second, tip fat and leaky as it drip-drops directly down your throat.

“Look at you go,” Leon chuckles. “You did that all on your own, baby.” No Viagra needed when he has you.

You smooch the head, smearing his pre over your lips like a coat of gloss, then you trail kisses along the shaft as you do down his midriff.

“Always tryin’ that, it’s not gonna work.” He clicks his tongue, the sound of your struggle is cute, you choke on spit while trying to fit Leon’s balls in your mouth. It’s real fucking cute. No other girl has ever loved on his balls like you do. He appreciates it. You’re a proper whore, Leon says that with love.

“‘S gonna, Daddy,” you insist in your whiniest voice.

“Alright, alright, it’s gonna work.”

It does not work. Daddy’s always right, you should know that, sweetheart.

You gaze up at him, a string of spit connecting your lips to his spit-coated balls. Whole lotta spit. You’re lucky he likes it messy. You settle for sucking on the rounded bottom of them, tongue following the seam that runs up the middle.

“You like it down there so much, cutie,” he says, fondness manifesting in his dick finally managing to stand tall and proud like an American.

“Mwah.” You place one more sloppy kiss on the underside of his cock, right on a vein that comes to the surface. His dick casts a shadow on your face. Real good view from up here. Makes his shit look huge.

Leon gets stupid when he’s horny. His brain activity is low already, when he’s turned on his brain activity is nonexistent. When he sits you on his desk, there is no concern for the paperwork that gets crumpled under your butt. Paperwork that’s been passed on to him by the US government, by the damn President. Paperwork that has been subjected to abuse by not only a gel pen, but now by your cute ass, and your drippy cunt. Not his girl’s fault she has such a sloppy pussy. Forgive her, Mr. President. Not Leon’s fault he gets her so wet. Cut down my workload, Mr. President.

“Oh no, my baby.” Leon stands between your spread thighs, frowning as he thumbs the wet patch staining the crotch of your panties. “Got ‘em all messy, sweetheart, what're we gonna do with you?”

“Oh no, daddy,” you coo at him, a dopey smile on your face.

“Cheeky.” Leon kisses your forehead, presses his thumb into the centre of the wet patch, the fabric dips and sinks into your spongy hole. “She’s so greedy.” He takes your panties off, not without turning them inside out to suck on the wet patch. If you’re embarrassed about it, you don’t complain. “I think daddy needs to give you a kiss down here, baby.”

“Lotsa kisses.” You nod in agreement.

“Yeah? Want daddy to kiss your princess parts?” Shit, that is one fucked up phrase. Always messes him up. Knocks the air out of his lungs. It’s just true though. A hard fact. You do have the prettiest princess cunt Leon has ever seen. It just sounds so dirty. But you preen when he says it, and your clit twitches, and your pussy drools. On that very important paperwork. “That’s what you need, isn’t it? Need your daddy to kiss these sweet princess parts.”

Leon’s first priority is your clit. Poor thing is all swollen. His pointer finger drags through the middle of your cunt, parts your folds and circles your bud. You’re trembling in anticipation, and that single finger is almost too much.

“‘S not a kiss, daddy,” you tell him, brows knit together.

He flicks your clit and your hips jolt. The IKEA desk holds up well. Leon deserves to be a little mean, you’ve put him through so much. That stupid scanner makes him trigger-happy. “Okay, my bad, Miss Know-it-all.”

When he gets down to business, you pet his head as a reward, and Leon takes it. He latches onto your clit, lips smacking noisily. Your pussy wets his scruffy face, Leon would like to wear your scent to work in the morning. With each broad lick to your cunt, there’s another gush of slick. And he groans into your pussy ‘cause fuck he could live between your thighs— God, he wonders if this is a fix for barely functioning alcoholics. Pussy. If he eats enough - which Leon does, he’s generous when it comes to head - he might sober up.

His tongue fucks into your hole, his nose bumping your clit as he moves his head from side to side. Must look like he’s motorboating your pussy. Not far off from that. “Oh, that’s right.” You grind your hips into him. “Mmm-Mmm-Mmm-“ Leon moans with each push of his tongue, sounds kinda ridiculous. “That’s good, fuck daddy’s mouth, sweetheart—“

“Stop…” Your breath is caught in your throat. “Stop talkin’ daddy!” You sob, fingers tangled in his hair, using it to force him deeper and deeper, hips moving in tandem.

Leon smiles into you, and you don’t let go of his hair until you’re reduced to tears, making an even bigger mess on his desk as your body shakes. It hit you hard. Poor baby. Blubbering and all sorts. When you free him, Leon moves to kiss you, rubs his pussy-wet stubble all over your face, swallows your complaints.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Leon leaves wet kisses on your neck. “Daddy’s got you, hm? Daddy’s right here.” You’re still trembling, grabbing at his shoulders when he rolls his hips forward, the leaky head of his cock meeting your clit in a disgusting wet kiss.

You shudder, toes curling in your pink socks. Leon soothes you, stroking your back as he eases into your princess cunt. “Easy, baby, be a good girl for me.”

Your cunt sucks him in, doesn’t take long for him to be buried inside of you. He rolls his hips forward, slow and steady. You gasp, throwing your head back and knocking a pot of pens onto the floor when your hands move to grip the edge of his desk.

Like this, with your back arched and your hips raised, cunt swallowing him whole, you’re the prettiest. When you’re slutting yourself out on his dick. Sorry. Leon’s only a man. This is how he thinks, how he’s wired to be, he can’t help it. You’re so fucking hot it drives him nuts.

The more you arch, the better it feels, he gives lazy thrusts that somehow manage to hit just right ‘cause you keen and fuck yourself on him, letting out hiccuped sobs of Daddy.

Daddy, daddy, daddy.

It’s all you can say. Fuck.

“I love you, baby,” Leon says. “I love you, daddy loves you.”

Oh, and you cum so hard he thinks you’re about to blackout. You don’t. But you do squirt. Pushing his cock out with the force of your high, Leon forces his dick further into you— The rush of liquid hits his skin in bursts, and you’re squeezing him tight, hole clenching like crazy in second-long intervals.

“Daddy… I love you.” Your words are slurred, but you never miss the opportunity to tell him how much you love him. “Love you more.”

“Not… Not possible.” Leon almost whines when he cums. Almost. You scratch behind his ears, it’s like you’re saying There you go, good daddy! Like he’s a dog. Leon is a dog, not a real dog, but a human dog. The pervert kind of dog.

He fills you up like a creampuff, and when his cock slips out, dribbles of his seed dripping from the tip, Leon’s quick to use his thumbs to keep your pussy spread.

“Push it out, baby.” He watches your hole twitch, milky cum spilling out as you exert your pussy. “Good girl, you’re such a good girl.” Leon kisses you hard, cradles the back of your head. “Daddy’s good girl.”

Leon helps you stand, his fingertips mould to the flesh of your ass when he gives it a squeeze. You’re a tender little darling, wrapping your arms around his neck to hug him. When his chin slots over your shoulder, and your scent is sweet on his nose, Leon gapes at the sight of his soggy paperwork. Unfortunately, Leon won’t even be fired for insolence, he’ll just have to face Hunnigan. Something he can’t do while sober. Could do it while pussy drunk though. Never thought about that.

“I think,” Leon starts, hoists you back onto the desk so he can pick you up, “it’s bath time.” You’re nodding off in his arms, barely able to cling onto him. He manages to get you to the bathroom, sitting you down on the counter. “Or is it naptime?”

“Naptime,” you mumble, wincing at the icy counter on your warmed skin.

“Whatever you say, baby.” Leon cleans you up, diligent in his role as Daddy. Would never let his sweetheart go to bed like that. “There we go, fresh as a daisy,” he claims post-towel wipe down.

“Sticky.” You always have a complaint for him. But it’s okay, he loves you. You’re his spoiled little girl.

“Okay, so then is it bath time?” He raises a brow and you shake your head.

“No! Naptime, daddy!” You loop your arms around his neck. “Up.”

“You’re so bossy, you know that?” Leon says while smiling. “Big fuckin’ baby, what am I gonna do with you?”

“Bad words,” you scold, tapping your finger on his lips.

“Daddy can say bad words.” He takes you to bed, fluffs up the pillows for you like he's never done for anyone else. “But you’re a little baby, you can’t say bad words.”

And for once, you’re so sleepy you have nothing bratty to say in return. “Okay, daddy, sleep now,” you say, rolling onto your side to hide your face in his chest.

“Okay, baby,” he laughs quietly, holding you close. “Sleeping now.”

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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leviscolwill · 10 months

Text

ballroom extravaganza

pairing: jude bellingham x f1 driver!reader

summary: you always hated arguing with jude, but even more so when you're about to race monaco's streets (wc: 1,7k)

req: jude bellingham x f1 related f!reader ! (driver if u can or js a driver’s relative) where they argue before a match/race that doesn’t go really well + she crashes/dnf or he gets rlly hurt in a match

contents: jude is jealous, reader drives for mclaren w lando (sorry oscar my beloved </3), possible racing inconstancies (i can't drive to save my life), reader crashes (nothing too bad happens tho), gasly slander sorryyyy, language ??, quite angsty but happy (&fluffy) ending i swear

note: i didn't want to make either jude or reader 'the bad guy™' so i hope i didn't side with one more than the other writing the argument part :| i had so much fun writing it, so i hope you enjoy reading it (lmk by rb and giving feedback !!). finally, thank you for requesting anon,, i hope you like it 🫶

now playing: ballroom extravaganza by dpr ian (moodswings in to order)

"i'm just saying, i don't like the way he looked at you when he said that"

"you're being ridiculous jude, he's my teammate and i've known him for years."

jude had always been the jealous type, and you never had any problem with this, until now. he tried to tell you how lando was flirting with you when that's really just how he communicated. sure, he was kinda flirty at times, but he knew you were in a relationship and never crossed any lines with you. but jealousy seemed to get the best of your boyfriend in that moment.

"that's not the point y/n, i'm a man and i know what he meant when he said he'll take you to this 'perfect seaside italian restaurant if your boyfriend won't'. and you just stood there laughing." his voice was louder now, and you hated it whenever jude screamed, especially when those screams were directed at you.

"you're delusional... he didn't imply anything with that, he was only joking." you tried to reason your boyfriend.

"i still don't like it, i'm not asking you to never talk to him again, just make it clear you're-"

"but he knows that jude! i talk about you all the time, let's be serious for a second, come on." you laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation you were in, 45 minutes before the monaco grand prix fighting with your boyfriend in your driver room, it was probably the last thing you should be doing on a track where your focus was the most important thing.

you were always grateful whenever jude made time to see you racing because you knew how packed his schedule was. but right now, he was the last person you needed to see given the circumstances.

"jude, please just leave, i'm sick of fighting."

"i'm not leaving, we're having this conversation whether you like it or not." he said in a calmer tone, but it was too late, the damage was done.

"well, you're in my room right now and i want you out. i need to focus and you're not exactly helping right now."

"but we need to talk it out, i don't want you to go while we're fighting." you would have sworn his voice broke a bit when he ended his sentence.

"maybe you shouldn't have picked a fight with me then! maybe you shouldn't be here at all actually..." you practically whisper the last part and you immediately regret the words that came out of your mouth, knowing well you didn't mean them.

"okay then..." jude quickly gets up and you can't help but look at your feet, you can almost feel the sad look on his face.

"i love you."

you wanted to say it back but he closed the door with a loud bang before you could mutter any sound.

the only thing jude left behind was the faint smell of his cologne for you to think about what just happened and not focus on your race at all.

deep breaths. deep breaths were what you needed, you tried to shift your focus on your start, how you needed to get away from sainz, given how close he was to you. whenever your mind drifted off to the argument you had with jude, you found another thing to focus on before the race. the formation lap would start in a couple minutes, your focus needed to be on monaco's streets for at least an hour and a half, then you'll handle the rest later with jude, you always did.

the formation lap started and everything went perfectly well, you just had to wait for the red lights to turn off and you'll be gone, no more thinking, or overthinking.

"it's lights out and away we go in the streets of monaco."

perfect start, now you just had to race like you knew how to for 78 laps. nothing you couldn't do.

the first 46 laps went perfectly, you managed to overtake carlos' ferrari and pierre's alpine. everything went well, then you thought about jude, you knew he was probably still mad at you but you still hoped he was watching the race, waiting for you with papaya-coloured headphones. as your thoughts kept going you were about to get to the trickiest part of the circuit, mirabeau.

as your focus shifted back to your race, you forgot the most important thing, the biggest danger on track is the other drivers.

your brain barely had time to register the bright blue alpine trying to overtake you when there was clearly no space. next thing you knew, your head hit the cockpit. before you hit the wall at god knows what speed, you thought about how you didn't tell jude you loved him back, and how you hoped he was still aware of how much he meant to you in that moment.

pitch black, no sound at all, you couldn't feel anything for about thirty seconds because of the shock.

then everything came back. you felt the urge to move your legs around, they moved. perfect. then you felt like your position was unusual, you came to a conclusion on your own, your car was on its side. you didn't even get to think about getting out because you felt a horrible pain in your head, where it was hit you assumed.

and lastly, you saw the medics making sure you were okay, you moved your hand for them to understand the message. you were okay, they helped you out of the car, saying you would be taken to the infirmary.

you couldn't stop smiling, you felt terrible about the race and it was probably the biggest crash you ever experienced but everything was well, your family and friends saw you get out of the car safely, and you'd be able to tell jude you loved him. everything was well.

you had to answer the medics questions that made you feel like a 4-year-old: "what's your name ? do you know which day of the week it is ?" you knew it was for safety reasons but you absolutely hated it.

jude opened the door in pure jude fashion, loudly. you almost stopped waiting for him at that point but he was here finally.

he didn't even talk to you, words weren't needed. he just held you really tight even though you were still on the, very uncomfortable, infirmary bed. you felt his arms that were holding onto you shake as he kissed your hair.

"you have no idea how fucking terrified i was y/n." while jude had been to a fair few races with you, he'd never seen any big crashes, let alone involving you. yes, you could only imagine how scary that must have been for him, feeling powerless over the situation, you knew it all too well. you felt that way when jude was injured and you were absolutely helpless, of course you never wished for your boyfriend to ever feel that way, but here you were.

"i love you." you felt like it was the first thing you should say right now. "so so so much. i'm sorry for not saying it earlier." jude looked at you as tears started to form in your eyes, he quickly wiped them away and kissed away the sudden wave of sadness surging through you.

"and i'm sorry for getting mad at you, i shouldn't even have told you about it before the race, it was-"

jude was cut short when someone knocked and opened the door quickly after. pierre came in with a sorry look on his face, you heard he dnf after he damaged his car. poor thing.

"y/n, are you okay? i'm sorry about-" he started rambling with a french accent.

"i'm fine don't worry, just... can we talk about it later? you can come to our motorhome, they make great coffee there i swear." you tried to joke to lighten up the atmosphere, but it was still as tense as before.

if looks could kill, gasly would have died right here the way your boyfriend eyed him in silence, his gaze following the driver on his way out.

"what a fucking dickhead. how is he driving a whole f1 car? even i would do a better job than him i swear..." your boyfriend's pettiness amused you, even more so knowing that boy couldn't ride a bike without scaring the life out of you.

his features visibly changed and you knew he wanted to talk your argument out, as you were both calmer about the situation. but he didn't get the chance to speak a word before lando opened the door.

"what did that french hooligan do to my favourite teammate? that was a barbarian try at overtaking really." you laughed at your teammate being dramatic, as always.

"i'm fine, i think gasly needs prescription glasses though, i don't know where he saw the space there but i'm okay."

once again, you felt jude's eyes burning holes in lando's skull as he went silent, he quickly took the hint and left.

you couldn't help but burst out laughing at jude when it was just you two in the room.

"you need to stop glaring at people like that."

"i just don't like him." you took his hand as he looked at you, his look much softer than the one he gave pierre and lando.

"i only want you. alright? it doesn't matter how lando views me, whether what you think is true. he will never be you." you told him stroking your thumb on the back of his hand.

"i know that, i was just mad at how he acted with you. i'm sorry about that. i trust you, 100%. i just don't like how comfortable he was making these comments y'know."

"i get that, i'll make my boundaries clear with him, okay? let's not fight over silly things like that anymore."

jude softly grabbed your jaw and kissed you, you could tell you both needed this talk, and this kiss, to clear the air.

you pull out of the kiss first, suddenly feeling the urge to annoy him.

"you know... you look good when you're jealous, i might try that more often..." jude faked a serious face.

"if attention was what you wanted, you just had to ask love." he joked as you playfully hit his arm.

"just no more leaving without saying 'i love you' alright?" he asks before quickly kissing your forehead.

"never again."

#f1 inaccuracy: gasly would never apologize #jk jk #i reckon jude would get on well with lando but #but we move #hope you enjoy it my football & f1 friends 🫶#jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fanfic #football x reader #football imagine #football one shot #football fanfic #footballer imagine #football blurb

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wolfiesmoon · 5 months

Text

A day to remember

Inumaki x gn!reader

this is a request!! thank u so much for requesting💗anyways time for jujutsu tech prom hehe😌 (lets pretend prom is a thing in japan and that there's actually enough students to do a cute thing like this lmaoo)

also since this is a prom fic, the second years are now third years and the first years are second years

@noomon one tag for uuuuu

The atmosphere was oddly lovey-dovey at Jujutsu Tech recently. Prom was just around the corner, so it wasn't exactly odd that spirits were high, but considering the usually grim faces that you see in the halls of the school, it does feel strange to see everyone so excited.

Then again, you suppose it is better to make the most of every day as a sorcerer and little joys like this are precisely what make all the death and injury worth it.

But, on the topic of prom... You don't know who to go with! You might just end up skipping out or going alone if you must (Gojo will probably force you to go). After all, prom isn't all about dancing with a guy and romantic stuff, it's about having fun with your friends and laughing at the memories you made as students of this school.

Or, well, for this kind of school, maybe some of the memories are better forgotten.

"Hey, senpai!" you heard a familiar voice behind you. It was Yuuji and Nobara! They often come to talk to you about random things so you aren't at all surprised to see them.

"Hello." you greet them, wondering what crazy story they'll tell you today.

"Do you already have a date for prom?" Yuuji and Nobara beamed.

"Do I- No, no I don't." that's the question you were expecting the least. Why are they asking you this anyways?

"Great." Nobara huffed, very satisfied with your answer. Yuuji seemed even more excited than before. You had little question marks floating above your head.

"Why are you happy about me being single? Are you two trying to tell me something?" your eyebrows furrowed slighly. But then again, Nobara and Yuuji are idiots (affectionately), so you don't think they're seriously trying to insult you.

"Oh, actually, it's because-"

Nobara slapped a hand over Yuuji's mouth before he could continue his sentence. "It's nothing, don't worry about it." she smiled at you, dragging Yuuji away and muttering something you couldn't quite catch.

Huh. How strange.

But now that you think about it, there is one person you'd really like to go to prom with.

The next day, Panda approaches you after class.

"Hey, you should like, totally follow after me right now. I have something to show you." Panda suggested cheerfully. And why not? Knowing Panda, he probably just has something funny or stupid to show you, which is always a pleasure.

As you followed him, a strange feeling started rising up inside you. You felt oddly fidgety and excited. Maybe it was the whole prom thing. I mean, with the strange conversation you had with the second years just yesterday is it that much of a stretch to assume that you're about to get confessed to via a prom invitation?

Nah, you shouldn't get ahead of yourself. If anything, Panda's going to let you in on someone else's promposal plan so you can help them out. Not that that's a bad thing, you just really get your hopes up sometimes.

You were being lead down a dimly lit hallway in one of the more secluded areas of the school. There was even candles here and there, to set the mood, you assume. Wow, this is really a last minute invitation. They're asking you to help out at the last possible moment, huh?

You soon found yourself in front of a group of students, all lined up to make a little walkway for you and Panda. Panda stops right at the end of the line, motioning for you to continue walking. All the other third years lined up were smiling knowingly at you. What in the world is going on?

You walked down the line of students a bit hesitantly, taking the flowers each of them handed you along the way. Oh wow, this is impressive. And also definitely means that this promposal is meant for you. You can feel your heart start beating faster with excitement when taking each rose into your hands.

Who orchestrated a confession so grand? Please be him...

Nobara handed you a rose when you walked by her, smiling proudly at you. Now the question from yesterday makes perfect sense.

At the end of the line of students, you saw a few of your classmates holding up signs that said "I know I'm not a man of many words, but I really need you to kelp me out here. It's almost prom night and you're still not together with me (which is criminal in my opinion). This isn't just a prom invitation, by the way. Will you go out with me tunaight?"

There's only one person that could have written those signs. Not just because of the familiar handwriting, but also because of the words he chose. And sure enough, Inumaki Toge was proudly holding up the middle sign, looking at you.

You clutched the makeshift boquet of roses in your hand. It was him after all.

In all three years of your schooling at JJT, you've found Inumaki Toge to be especially charming. You had a bit of trouble talking to him at first, but you quickly got along after you bridged the whole "onigiri ingredient" gap. Honestly, you don't know how long it's been since you felt... a special way about him.

It took you a while to realise, but you definitely like him. More than a friend.

And knowing it's mutual...

He looked at you with such hope in his eyes that it made you want to hug him and kiss him all over. And so you did.

The sign he was holding fell to the ground as you embraced him tightly and he immediately hugged you back, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to him. As if that is the place where you belong.

"Yes, yes, I'll go to prom with you!" you yelled happily, leading everyone around you to cheer. You didn't really notice it because you were busy kissing Inumaki's cheeks, but all the other third years looked satisfied, knowing their ship has sailed at long last.

"But bad onigiri ingredient puns, really? I'm feeling the second hand embarrasment real hard right now." your face scrunched up slightly, cringing.

He simply giggled quietly in response, squeezing you again.

You can't deny, that is so him.

400 notes · View notes

leilakisakabiri · 1 year

Note

heyy, can u write one where gavi is obsessed by reader's smell?

Surprise (Gavi)

Summary: You and Gavi are in a long-distance relationship and you go to his game to surprise him, but he catches you.

Warning(s): None

Requested: Yes

A/N: Hey anon! Thank you so much for the request and thanks for being patient. Hopefully, I did the prompt justice! Not proofread.

Word Count: [1666]

Masterlist

You had reached out to Pedri a week ago asking him to help you surprise Gavi at the final La Liga game.

You were in university studying in America, and the two of you had been doing long distance since last summer. It was now early May and you had finished your exams just in time to be in Barcelona for the final game.

You had lied and told Gavi you wouldn’t be done for another week, before wishing him the best and making yourself scarce, telling him you were busy studying.

In the meantime, you had set up a plan to surprise him with Pedri and booked your tickets.

Once you landed in Barcelona, Pedri came to pick you up. You both smiled at each other warmly, telling each other about your lives since you’d been apart.

“I haven’t seen you since December. How have you been hermana?” Pedri questioned.

You laughed, telling him about your school and all the things you and your friends got up to.

“That sounds so fun. Now I’m jealous I never got to go to school in America!” He exclaimed.

“Mm. It’s probably not as fun as being a famous footballer.” You shrugged playfully.

“Yah I guess that’s cool too.” He remarked.

Before you knew it, you were pulling up to the stadium, and the nerves were beginning to set it in. You hadn’t seen Gavi in almost six months and you were a little nervous to see him again. Did he look the same? Would he be excited to see you?

Pedri could tell that you were getting in your head, and he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t overthink it, he’ll be happy to see you. He was so sad you couldn’t be here.”

You looked up at him, “Really?”

He nodded affirmatively and you felt yourself loosen up, “Thanks Pedri.”

He gave you a smile, ushering you out of the car and into the stadium.

“Ok so we only have a few minutes before the rest of the team gets here so we have to be quick.” Pedri spoke leading you into the locker room.

The plan was that you would leave a note in Gavi’s locker telling him to look up into the family section of the stands, and he would glance up before the game and see you standing there wearing his jersey, cheering him on.

You didn’t want to mess up the before-game ritual, or the meeting with his team, so you opted for seeing him after the game as opposed to before.

You had just placed the note in his locker when you heard the locker room door open, male voices filling the air.

You looked up at Pedri in horror, his facial expression mirroring yours, as you both froze.

He snapped out of it first and pushed you towards the showers, “Oh shit, go hide!”

You had just snapped the shower curtain closed when you heard a voice, “Pedri, hey man. Why are you here so early?”

You heard Pedri let out an awkward laugh, and you cringed, poor boy was never a good liar, “Oh hey Ansu. Uhm- y’know just like to be early.”

A new voice responded, “Really since when?”

You breath caught in your throat, it was Gavi.

It had been so long since you heard his voice in person, it sounded so real, and so close. You felt a wave of emotions hit you. Hearing his voice made it ten times harder to keep yourself hidden, and only amplified how much you missed him.

“Ehh big game so wanted to start now.”

The boys seemed to accept his answer, continuing their conversation.

You silently prayed that they would move toward the other end of the locker room so that you could make a quick escape.

But it seemed like luck was not on your side today.

Gavi was in the middle of a sentence when he abruptly cut himself off.

“Do you smell that?” He asked, pausing to inhale.

“Did you just sniff the air?” Pedri asked him, trying to hold back his laughter.

“Shut up, it smells like Y/n.”

You felt your blood run cold. Oh shit. You had totally forgot about your perfume.

You had bought the perfume months ago, back when you were still with Gavi in Barcelona last summer. You had been looking for something that smelled like warm summer nights and when you found it you bought it instantly. However, it wasn’t just you who loved the smell as just twenty minutes after you wore it for the first time Gavi had you spread out on the couch, lips planting kisses all over you, hands exploring every inch of your body.

“You smell so good.” He groaned, kissing the column of your neck.

Your breathing was unsteady, and you found it hard to concentrate, “Thanks, I just bought it. It’s supposed to smell like summer."

“Well whatever it is, I love it.” Gavi murmured, his words caught between his mouth and your skin.

Since then, it had become your everyday perfume, and you spent the rest of summer wearing it and driving Gavi crazy.

He said it smelled exactly how he imagined you to be. Sweet and intoxicating.

Now you were wearing the same exact perfume, having forgotten about Gavi’s obsession with it.

You were scared that you had just outed yourself, but you were also impressed that the perfume had lingered for that long.

Guess it was a good buy.

“What?” Pedri asked him pretending to be confused, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts.

“She always smells like coconut and jasmine, and the locker room smells exactly like that.”

“I think the dirty socks are getting to your head. Go get ready.” Pedri retorted, trying to steer the conversation away from you.

Gavi shook his head, “Pedri I swear. Am I going crazy?”

Ansu spoke, “Nah bro I smell it too.”

That was all the confirmation Gavi needed, “Where is it coming from?” He asked as he set his bag down beginning to move around the room.

You could hear Pedri shuffling as well, presumably following the boy, “C’mon this is stupid. Let’s focus on the game. The rest of the team will be here any minute.”

Gavi sighed, “Ok yah.” He resigned, moving to go change into his uniform.

“Be honest Pedri, did you have a girl in here?” Ansu asked playfully.

You heard Pedri sputter, and you let out a small gasp, not being able to hold back your laughter.

“What was that?”

“What?” Pedri asked, his voice rising unintentionally.

“Swear I heard something over there.” Ansu stated.

You bit your lip, moving back into the shower, cursing yourself for making noise.

It was quiet for a moment, and then a second later you felt the shower curtain being ripped open.

You were greeted by a very stressed-out Pedri and a confused Ansu.

“What the fu-“ You desperately held up a finger to your mouth, pleading with him to be silent.

“What?” Gavi asked coming over.

Ansu quickly shut the curtain again, “Oh nothing. Just thought I saw a spider.”

They all moved away from the showers, and you let out a breathe. You couldn’t believe how close you were to being caught.

All you had wanted to do was surprise your boyfriend, but that was turning out to be much harder than you thought.

You heard more voices begin to fill the locker room, and you wondered if Pedri was going to come and get you or if you were on your own.

A moment later, the shower curtain slowly opened and Pedri popped his head inside.

“That was so close!” He whispered.

You stepped out of the shower, “I know! Now get me out of here.”

“Ok, most of the guys are in the main changing area, waiting for coach. We’re going the other way, so just walk in front of me and we’ll be good.”

You nodded, feeling Pedri walk behind you as you took a left out of the shower area.

You had your sights fixed on the door and were just steps away when a voice interrupted. “Pedri, do you know anything about this no-“ You heard Gavi ask before his voice faltered,

“Who’s that?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, knowing your cover had officially been blown.

You felt Pedri freeze behind you. He began to speak without turning around, scrambling to come up with something.

You cut him off, turning around and finally revealing yourself, “Surprise!”

Gavi stood there in shock staring at you for about five seconds, unmoving, before his body caught up to his brain and then he was colliding into you, arms wrapping around you and pulling you into a tight hug.

“Holy shit. Y/n? What are you doing here bebe?” He asked his voice rising in excitement.

You giggled as he picked you up, spinning you around.

You looked up at him once he put you down, reaching up to caress his cheek, “I wanted to surprise you! But you kind of ruined it for yourself.” You admitted.

“I don’t even care. I’m so happy you’re here.” He spoke, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers.

You smiled, kissing his cheek as you promised you’d find him after the game.

He walked you to the door, as you basked in each other’s presence.

You gave him one last kiss before pulling away.

“I knew I smelled you!” he exclaimed.

You giggled, “Yah I forgot about that. Can’t believe you sniffed me out.” You teased while ruffling his hair.

He gave you a playful glare before fixing his hair, “Oh c’mon you know I love it.”

You smiled, “I know.”

You gave him one last wave before turning and walking through the tunnels towards the seats.

You heard him yell after you, “Nice jersey!”

You turned around, a grin on your face, “Thanks. It’s my boyfriend’s.”

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babiebom · 15 days

Text

Would they be a Girl Dad/Mom or Boy Dad/Mom

A/N: just know that this isn’t the weird incest-y thing that people have going on (the boy moms saying that no girl would ever compare to them when talking about their sons dating stuff) this is just what vibes they give off!! The is completely ignoring the how many kids they would have thing!!

Tw:cursing? Mentions of a afab partner in bachelors and amab partner in bachelorettes. Some angsty stuff but nothing too bad except for the authors note which mentions incest.

Wc:at least 5 for each!

Stardew Valley Masterlist

Sebastian

Girl dad

He just gives off girl dad energy

Like a daughter would soothe his soul if that makes sense.

Especially because I feel like he would have a daughter that’s exactly like her mother.

He would become softer, and would probably be carrying her everywhere.

Would be the parent that shows up to the school like “WHO TF HAS A PROBLEM WITH MY DAUGHTER?”

Absolutely doesn’t allow her on his motorcycle at all.

Maybe when she’s a little older he’ll get mods to a new motorcycle so she could ride with him but as a baby absolutely not.

She is a daddy’s girl through and through and it makes him happy because he never had a relationship like this with his biological dad nor with Demetrius.

Sam

Girl dad

You will see him teaching his daughter how to skate EVERY DAY

Like dude is a skater boy that’s also a musician.

He definitely has a daughter with her skirt on and some knee pads a helmet and some flannel or something.

And he’s like “okay try again! You’ll get that kick flip eventually.”

And you’re just like “SHES GONNA GET H U R T!!!!”

And he’s like “yeah but she’ll be fine :)”

It’s VERY stressful because he’s a little rough with playing sometimes because he gets too excited but it’s good to have a partner that will push your child like that.

He’s a very good fun dad

Vincent enjoys being an uncle.

Shane

Girl dad

Have you seen how he is with Jas?

Dude is a girl dad all the way!

Would teach his daughter how to take care of the chickens, and would try to teach them proper ways of dealing with their emotions because he doesn’t want her to end up like him.

I could imagine he’s one of those dads where his daughter posts something on a social media platform and gets the “this is no father behavior” or whatever people be saying

And she just makes another video with him standing there and is like ??????? I’m actually close to my dad thanks <3

Like his daughter would be strong but a good person because he would work hard to make sure she’s a person he wishes he could be. But not in a toxic way

More in a you could be and are better than me.

Alex

Definitely a boy dad

I think he gives off the vibes of a dad you see at the park

And you can immediately tell that his child is a boy and when anyone asks him he points to a little boy that looks exactly like him.

They have football days

And it just very much him fixing what he didn’t have with his dad, and giving his son as much love and care as he can.

It’s as if he is getting a do over, but in the form of having a child instead of him going back to being a child.

I can see him and his son in the kitchen with a mess everywhere trying to make you breakfast

He takes him to sports games and goes to all of his kids events at school.

They’re both EXTREMELY loud when doing anything together. It’s just shouts of excitement and joy.

Harvey

Boy dad

I don’t know he gives off that he specifically has a 3 year old son that clings to both of you on any given day.

Like a son with big eyes that can melt anyone’s heart and his hair is always neat.

Son may be a bit of a crybaby ngl but in a cute way. Because both of you allow him to express his feelings in any way he wants to as long as it’s healthy.

Like y’all’s son would be an incredibly sweet boy and so loving and caring towards other people and things.

Harvey has a picture of you and your son as his lock screen on his phone and the clinic computer. And he has a little picture (more like a million) of you three in his wallet.

Elliott

Girl dad

She takes mom’s looks but has his hair.

And also his bone structure.

Gives off Nepo baby vibes and has a big vocabulary bc Elliott would speak to her as if she’s an adult since the day she’s born.

Like yeah he still speaks softly and everything

But he uses adult words bc his kid is going to be smart.

Would be so sweet and would absolutely call her his princess.

Elliott is for sure in charge of bedtime stories and has probably already or has made plans to release a children’s book just for her

She gives him inspiration and a new meaning to his life.

Penny

Boy mom

She just seems like the type of woman to have a son

I imagine him literally either as a newborn with her never putting him down or like a 4 year old playing at the park.

I think he would be similar to her in personality but more like dad in looks.

He’s attached to her and they spend hours reading together because they’re both very into stories.

I think out of all the kids he would be the sweetest.

He’s very soft spoken like she is and she loves that he is (don’t get me wrong if he was loud she would still love him just as much) but she’s seeing all of the traits that she was more insecure about in him and figuring out that maybe it’s nothing to be ashamed of because those traits are lovely in him.

Leah

Boy mom

Like I mentioned in the other post I think she would have one child

And I think this little boy would be so creative it’s crazy

But is also super hyper so all of his art is chaotic but very cool

She probably started doing art with him the second he was born.

She makes a bunch of finger,hand,toe, and footprint art because he’s going to grow quickly and she wants to have something that she can look back on when he’s grown.

He’s encouraged to be messy and I think because of it he learns to clean up his mess quickly

They’re a very smilely duo and she makes sure to encourage him in whatever he wants to do no matter how absurd because no one encouraged her to follow her art dreams and she never wants him to feel like that

But also teaches the importance of accepting failure and continuing to try to achieve his goals.

Emily

Boy mom

Very strange like her but in a good way like her

She lets him express himself in all kinds of ways so he’s very…idk how to explain it

Sometimes off putting to people?

Sort of autism coded ngl

Like has no ability to read the room and very much says what’s on his mind no matter what’s happening

But it’s kinda impossible to get mad at him because he does it in a very nice way?

Probably has his hair dyed some random color that he wanted and everyone gets mad at Emily for it because “HeS a KiD hE cAnT dO tHaT!!!!!!!1!!!”

They’re also super close. But I don’t honestly think any of these bachelor/ettes would have kids just to hate them.

But they have the kind of bond that people usually have with their friends like where you can halfway read their mind and you don’t really have to say full sentences or anything they just get it.

Haley

Girl mom

OOOOOOOOF her daughter is the spitting image of her

Like her daughter knows EXACTLY what she’s going to look like.

Would probably dress her daughter up in expensive clothes and stuff and they’ll have mommy daughter dates where they get their nails done and go to a hair salon and go shopping and have their little drinks.

Her daughter would probably have a popular girl name because Haley would wanna set her up for success.

BUT unlike what people might think I think that Haley would be very…relaxed with her daughter if that makes sense

No almond mom shit

No making her feel bad

No being distant and distracted

Haley sometimes feels abandoned by her parents and I have a headcanon where even though she loves them and they love her they kinda made her feel shitty about certain things

Like her and her mother would get into arguments and her mother would say “I hope you have a daughter just like you so you can see how hard it is to deal with you!”

And after Haley has her daughter she sees that it isn’t really hard to love herself at all. Her daughter is just like her and it’s the easiest thing in the world to love her.

Abigail

Girl mom

I think Abigail would struggle with this at first because y’know I think out of all the bachelorettes she her up with the stereotypical roles in her household and even when she tried to go against it her parents wouldn’t let her

So when she has a girl she panics because what is she supposed to do? And she worries that she’ll be like her parents even though she does love and cherish them.

But as her daughter grows older she’ll relax more especially if her daughter is into video games and adventuring.

I think she would probably take her kid on hikes and stuff. Like she doesn’t really care for exercise but it’s kinda like adventuring going hiking.

So her daughter would grow up with a love for adventure and the outdoors but also with the knowledge that she could be into whatever and her mother will not judge and will always love her

Maru

Boy mom

I don’t know why but I can see her with a Spencer Reid son if that makes sense

A super nerd that’s super cute and lovable and also info dumps and inappropriate times

I think he would be space nerd instead of robot nerd and also maybe a bit of a bug/dinosaur nerd

And she’s like !!!!!! That’s so cool!!!!!!

They just talk for hours and hours infodumping at each other and everyone is like ??? What kind of conversation is that you’re both just taking turns talking for an hour straight???

BUT a difference is that she understands Demetrius’ position but also kinda is annoyed at him for his behavior

Like she would NEVER dream of holding her child back socially because she thinks his academic progress is more important

It kinda made her shit at socializing and she’s kinda grateful to have a partner and son that understand her

She wants him to be well rounded instead of just smart.

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ghoulphile · 1 month

Note

why has no one said anything yet about cooper howard spitting in your mouth?? why am i the only one popping my fucking pussy rn???

he sees the way you are desesperate, not even sweat is being produced by your body anymore – not like there is a lack of it. the qay your vaultie uniform clings to your body is indication enough of how hot u are under those clothes – and then he gets that filthy canteen that has more dirt than water but god if isnt what you need to at least wet your mouth enough to at least produce some wetness to your tongue

and he drinks it. he looks at you as he does, maintaining eye contact, but then after he gulps down some water, he spits some more on the sand, that quickly absorbs before you can kneel down and eat some of that wet sand – you are that desesperate –. he sees the way you eye the few droplets that escape his mouth. not desesperate enough to lick his chin that contains a few spills, but close enough to get to that point. cooper is sure he can push you to this, but he has a more fun idea.

he tells you to come closer, rather demand, the way he pulls the lasso around your body. his dirty gloves pull your chin up, and you stare at the sky, not wanting to look at cooper and see what he has planned to do. “open your mouth” its the only command you get, and you obey, thinking he will finally take pity on you and give you the rest of the water, that probably is more mud than liquid. but all you see is him taking another big gulp before spitting inside your mouth.

your first instict is to spit it out, this is humiliating. but he holds your face, squeezing your cheeks, some water escapes your mouth and it looks like you are a drooling mess being lectured for doing something wrong. he makes you stare at him, telling you to swallow, that if you soit it out, it will be the last time he does something good to you – is this even considered good???

you do swallow, your face reddening as you do. but the way the ghoul lifts the canteen again to his lips, fills his mouth again and tilts your head back up, makes you think that maybe this isn’t so much for your survival as it is for his pleasure.

*softly*the fuck

i - i had to read this several times. im SWEATING rn. jjust - you really saw inside my mind huh?? this is sgshkshdshdka thank you for this i am not worthy 😭

#asks #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x reader #i have been exposed #the thots are thotting #this is so big brained of you #i need to go lie down #thirsty thursday 💦

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azriels-shadowsinger · 9 months

Text

Confessions (Azriel x Reader)

summary: you and azriel are best friends, but his flirting with elain has become too much for you to bear, so you decide to try to move on.

wc: 3k

a/n: !!warning: mentions attempted SA!! This is the first real fic i have written in years so it’s probably shit but if you decide to read this thank u and i love u.

Read Part Two

For months now, you have been fairly upset about seeing Azriel pining after Elain, but even more annoyed that your friendship with him has become insignificant to him now that he spends all his time with her. About a decade ago, you decided that being hopelessly in love with Azriel was pointless since he would never see you that way, so you settled for friendship. It’s better to have him as a friend than not at all… or at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself. Mor is the only one who knows about your crush and has kept your secret, but not without constant pestering to tell him how you feel.

“He’s in love with Elain, Mor. I’m over it and over him. I’m ready to move on.” You lie as best you can to her and to yourself.

“You’re so full of shit. But fine, I’ll play along. When we go out tonight, you’re finding someone to go home with!” She says excitedly while finishing her eyeliner. Mor forced you to put on a tight, navy party dress that barely covers your ass instead of letting you wear your go-to little black dress.

After she finishes getting ready, the two of you head down to your room to grab your lipstick, but when you open the door to the hallway, you see Azriel and Elain at the end of the hall whispering and standing only inches from each other. You ignore the ache in your chest at the sight and turn the opposite direction to head to your room, refusing to look behind you when you feel a pair of eyes staring at you.

———

Rita’s was crowded, as per usual. After about an hour of drinks and dancing, you were decently drunk and had forgotten all about Azriel… well almost.

“Can I buy you a drink?” You hear a male say from beside you. He’s tall and fairly handsome, but nowhere near Azriel’s level of attractiveness- damnit you need to get him out of your head!

“Sure. I’ll have what you’re having.” You try to say seductively, but it just comes out awkward. Gods, when was the last time you tried to flirt? He chuckles and orders your drink. Mor gives you a wink from across the bar and disappears into the crowd with a stranger.

After a while of talking, you decide this guy, Mikael, is exceptionally boring, but the night is almost over and he’s your only option. Anything to forget a certain dark and mysterious shadowsinger. Why not try to have fun?

“Do you want to come back to my place?” Mikael whispers in your ear. No reaction. If Azriel had been this close and whispered something to you, you would be all goosebumps and blushes, but with Mikael… nothing. Fuck, this is probably a bad idea. Maybe you should just go home and try again another night.

“Y/n?” His voice pulls you out of your daze. “I asked if you wanted to get out of here.” He says a bit annoyed while sliding a hand up your thigh. Gods, this guy is kinda an ass. This is definitely a bad idea.

“Um… I’m pretty tired. And I came here with a friend, so I should probably find her to make sure she gets home safe.” You slowly stand from your chair to leave. You immediately stumble and feel much dizzier than before. You were never good at handling your liquor, and apparently tonight was no exception… except you don’t remember drinking enough to feel this drunk. Mikael’s hand grabs your shoulder to stabilize you, but his grip feels too tight and he doesn’t let go once you balance yourself.

“Cmon honey. We were having a fun night, let’s keep it going.” He leans too close for comfort, giving you a slimy grin. You pull away and stumble back.

“I really should find my friend. I’m sorry!” You say nervously and look around for Mor. She’s nowhere in sight. Shit. She probably either left with that girl thinking you were gonna go home with Mikael or she’s lost in the crowd. Either way, you just need to get away from Mikael. You stumble towards the door, feeling dizzy and seeing double. Each step feels slower and heavier than the last, but you finally step outside, savoring the winter chill that will hopefully sober you up. Just as you take a step outside, you feel a hand grab your wrist too hard and pull you towards the alley next to Rita’s.

“I spent a lot of fucking money on your drinks tonight, so I’m not gonna ask again. You’re coming home with me.” Mikael’s whiskey breath is inches from your face, making you want to gag. You want to scream for help. You want to kick and fight back, but your body feels weak and your vision keeps getting blurrier. After a moment, you slump onto Mikael and he helps you walk down the sidewalk. To everyone else, you probably look like a drunk girl whose boyfriend is helping her home.

No. No no no. You need to get away. You need someone to notice you aren’t okay. How the fuck did this happen?

You hear a voice behind you and your feet stop moving. It’s too blurry and dark to see, but soon you’re on the ground and someone is yelling. You shut your eyes, accepting whatever horrible thing is about to happen to you. But suddenly you are in someone’s arms, and a moment later you’re inside somewhere. You open your eyes, and despite the blurriness, you recognize your blue curtains. You’re home. Somehow.

Mor must have found you and winnowed you home. Thank the gods for that. You are set on your bed and covered you with blankets.

“Thanks… thanks for finding me, Mor.” You slur and curl into your blankets. “I think that guy… put something in my drink.” Your voice trails off as you become incredibly sleepy and shut your eyes. Mor sits you up and forces you to drink some water. Your eyes feel too heavy to open, so you keep them shut.

“Just… don’t tell Azriel about this. It’s embarrassing enough to go looking for a quick fuck to get over my crush, but it’s even more embarrassing to get fucking drugged by someone in the process.” You get the words out slowly between sips. Thinking about everything that just happened tonight should make you want to cry and vomit, but you’re too tired to do so. When you finish the water, you lay back down and immediately fall asleep.

———

Your head is pounding and the sun is shining too bright. Someone is yelling outside your door. You roll over in bed, half expecting to see some male, but thankfully you are alone in your room. You don’t remember much from last night, but apparently your attempt at a one night stand was unsuccessful. Probably for the best.

The yelling gets louder.

“She was on the fucking sidewalk outside Rita’s!” You hear a male voice yell. Azriel’s voice. Why is Azriel here? And why is he so damn loud?

You slowly make your way out of bed and to the door so you can tell him to shut up, but as soon as you open the door, you see several worried faces staring back at you. Mor, Rhys, Cass, Feyre, and Azriel all stare at you. Mor looks like she’s crying and Azriel is red in the face with a murderous expression.

“Can you all shut up? I have a head-“ you start

“Y/n I’m so sorry!” Mor hugs you tight, almost knocking you over.

“What the…” you start to question before you’re cut off again.

“Do you know his name, y/n? I’ll make sure he is taken care of.” Rhys asks. His voice is gentle, but his face is full of anger.

“Like hell you will. I would’ve killed him last night if I didn’t have to get her back here. I should’ve fucking killed that piece of garbage.” Azriel mutters.

What the hell is going on? You pull away from Mor and face the group.

“Does anyone care to tell me what we’re talking about?” You ask cautiously while rubbing your temples in an attempt to alleviate your headache.

“Of course she doesn’t remember you guys. Give her some space.” Feyre says softly and leads you back inside your room with Mor. The three males protest, but Feyre gives them a stern look and shuts the door. “Sit down, y/n. I’ll tell you what’s happening.”

You sit on your bed and look between Feyre and Mor anxiously.

“You were found outside of Rita’s being carried by a stranger and you were close to unconscious. You’ve been asleep for almost the entire day now.”

You stare back in stunned silence. The memories slowly start to return, but before you can ask a question Mor starts tearing up again.

“You don’t know how sorry I am y/n. You were hitting it off with that guy and next thing I knew, you were gone. I thought you went home with him like you planned, but when Azriel told me-“

“Azriel? Wait… what?” You ask.

“Azriel found you and brought you back here. He made sure you were safe before finding me and going ballistic on me for not watching out for you. I’m so sorry I really didn’t mean to let you get hurt!” She cries again.

“I don’t understand. I vaguely remember someone bringing me home, but I could’ve sworn it was you, Mor, not Azriel.” They both shake their heads. You sit silently and process the information for a minute before saying the only thing that may be helpful in this moment.

“His name was Mikael. He had dark hair, hazel eyes, and wore a red shirt.” You whisper, still in shock. Feyre’s eyes glaze over for a moment as she relays this information to Rhys. Suddenly its completely quiet outside your door.

———

You spend the rest of the day in your room, still exhausted and fighting a hangover. Or the after effects from the drug… not sure. There’s a soft knock at your door.

“Come in.” You call out. Azriel slowly opens the door and walks in. You can tell he just got back and tried to clean up quickly, but there’s still a few smears of blood on him.

“Uh… hi.” You say awkwardly and motion for him to sit. Azriel sits on the end corner of your bed and looks at you with a mixture of anger and fear in his eyes. His shadows are swirling around you, as if to check that you are actually okay. They’ve always taken an interest in you, which you normally appreciate, but right now it just makes you feel guiltier for last night.

“Thank you for finding me last night. I probably wouldn’t be okay right now if you hadn’t.” You whisper, avoiding his gaze. He takes a deep breath, like he is trying to control himself.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He mutters angrily. Azriel stands and starts pacing the room. “You could’ve been fucking killed!” He raises his voice.

“I know. I didn’t-“

“And then you go and say… fuck y/n!” He runs his hands over his face in frustration.

“I’m sorry, Az.” You whisper, fighting the tears that are building. Wait, why the hell is he mad at you? You didn’t drug yourself. “Azriel, it’s not like I planned for this to happen.” You say a bit annoyed. He lets out a cold laugh.

“Yeah, but you planned on going out to find someone to fuck. Wearing that fucking dress and letting that fucking worthless filth touch you.” He spits out angrily as his shadows swirl around your ankles.

“Okay look, I can do what I want and wear what I want. Why is it any of your business if I try to hook up with someone?” Your eyes burn and you fight the tears. “Obviously I wasn’t expecting someone to put something in my drink. I’ll be more careful next time!” You yell louder.

“Next time?” His voice drops to a whisper and he looks at you with an expression you can’t quite decipher.

“I don’t have to justify my actions to you, Azriel. Why do you even care? You’re never around anymore. Always too busy sneaking off with Elain to hang out with your best friend!” Hurt fills your voice. You hadn’t meant to let that last part slip out.

“Why are you bringing her into this?” His voice drops lower and his brow furrows.

“She has a mate, Azriel! What the hell are you doing?” You sigh and put your head in your hands. “I just miss you.”

He stops pacing and stares at you. “I’m right here. I haven’t gone anywhere.”

“Yes you have! I never see you anymore!” Its true. He never makes plans with you anymore and it has been tearing you apart. It’s strange that he was even at Rita’s in the first place, because he never wanted to go even before he ditched you for Elain. Wait, why was he there? “You were at Rita’s last night when you found me.” It’s not a question.

He nods.

“Why were you there?” He obviously wasn’t expecting you to ask that because panic flashes in his eyes for a brief moment. “I know you weren’t there with Elain because she hates it there. And I didn’t see you inside with the guys.” I try to remember him outside the bar, but it’s all fuzzy.

“I was worried.” He mutters so quiet you barely hear.

“What?”

“I was worried about you y/n!” You look at him surprised. “I saw you in the hall ready to go out in that dress. God, that fucking dress. And the entire night I kept thinking about something bad happening. So I waited outside to make sure you and Mor were safe. And then I saw that fucking piece of shit with his hands on you and I just…” he trails off and takes a deep breath. “If something had happened to you… if I hadn’t been there to stop it…” His expression looks angry again.

You pause and process his words. He almost sounds jealous. But that can’t be it. Because he has no reason to be jealous.

He sighs again and continues with a softer voice. “Do you remember anything after you left?” He asks with a hint of desperation in his voice. You think hard for a moment. You thought Mor got you home and you told her what happened. But it wasn’t Mor. It was Azriel. And then you said not to tell Azriel because… fuck. Your eyes go wide.

Azriel stalks closer and is inches from you. “Do you remember what you said? Was that the drug talking or you?” He whispers low and gets closer, his eyes searching yours for an answer. This cannot be happening. If you thought your friendship was screwed before, this is definitely the final straw.

“Az…” you whisper.

“Tell me.” His voice is demanding.

“I don’t-“ you start, but Azriel turns and runs his hands over his face in frustration. He stays facing away from you, muttering something to himself.

“Azriel, I cant. You already avoid me as it is. I don’t think I can handle losing you as a friend. Losing you completely.” He obviously already knows, but saying it feels too real. Your words cause him to turn back around and get closer to you. Azriel leans over you, caging you against the bed in between his arms and stares at you silently for a moment. His shadows have stilled completely around you two. There’s something desperate in his eyes. He’s so close, closer than he has been in months. Hell, he’s closer than he’s been ever. You look from his eyes to his lips for a split second, mesmerized by the way he barely bites his bottom lip.

“Fuck it.” He mutters. Before you can ask what, he crashes his lips into yours. You freeze for a moment in shock, before melting into his touch. He lets out a low groan as you wrap your arms around him and pull him closer. His calloused hands wrap into your hair and tug slightly, earning a small whimper from you. It takes several moments before you come up for air.

“Azriel… I don’t understand.” You ask breathlessly.

“Please tell me what you said last night is true. That you feel the way I feel.” He rests his forehead on yours.

“What about Elain?”

“I don’t care about Elain! I care about you! She knows that I’m in l-“ He pauses and takes a breath. “I was trying to get over you.” He grabs your chin softly and pulls your face to meet his. “It’s always been you, y/n. Please.”

You stare silently in shock for several moments. “Y/n…” Azriel’s voice pulls you from your trance and you realize he’s waiting for you to answer.

Just as you are about to respond, there is a knock on the door. Azriel quickly pulls away and sits on the edge of the bed away from you, as if nothing were happening.

“Come in!” You call out softly, and Feyre opens the door holding a plate of food.

“I should go.” Azriel says quietly and heads towards the door.

“Wait.” You try to stop him, but he keeps walking.

“I’m just glad you’re okay, y/n.” Azriel opens the door and leaves without a second glance. His shadows remain for a moment, before quickly retreating, as if being called to follow. Feyre gives you a questioning look, but you just shake your head and fall back onto the bed, finally letting the tears flow freely.

thank you for reading!! :)

Read Part Two

#acotar #acotar fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader #acotar fic #bat boys #my writing

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littlemissvincentvega · 5 months

Note

Hii could u write a part 2 to the morning wood hopper fic? Maybe hopper accidentally bumps into the reader at a bar and he takes her home and Yk… 😏

MORNING WOOD pt. 2 / a perv!hopper one shot

PART 1

a/n: OMG i finally wrote something and it is the part 2!!! i'm going to do part 3 soon (might start writing it tonight) it will most likely be the finale of this little miniseries thing with hopper. but i had so much fun writing this and i hope y'all enjoy ♥ also also i'm in the process of setting up the tumblr tips thing bc i am Poor and somebody asked me about it aaaages ago :) thanks @nonsensecynical for the request and the inspiration for doing the part 2!!

18+ explicit content / perv! jim hopper x fem!reader

cw: alcohol, smoking, sexual themes, general perviness

Wisps of smoke left his nose like an angry bull. He tapped the cigarette on the edge of the ashtray in front of him, watching as the ash fell into it. It had started out clean and empty, but since Jim arrived a small pile of cigarette butts had accumulated there. He nursed his (sixth? seventh?) drink, focused on the melting ice cubes that swirled around the glass.

"Need a drinking partner?"

Hopper looked up from the bar, his eyes widening a little when he saw it was you. Of course it was. He'd jacked off to the thought of you that very morning, so why the hell wouldn't he have to deal with speaking to you as if he hadn't just mentally fucked you into next week? "What?"

You snickered slightly and shifted to sit beside him at the bar. Unbeknownst to Jim, you were already a couple of drinks in, which was why you were so calm about approaching him. You'd considered this a few times before after seeing him drink his problems away, but today was the day you grew a pair, for some reason. "Are you having another drink?"

"Probably," came his mumbled response. He looked at you, "Why?"

You pretended not to notice his gaze drop briefly to your breasts and gave him a coy smile. "I'll get your next one. You look like you need a drinking partner. You're always in here by yourself."

"(y/n), I couldn't ask you to do that," Jim said, sitting up to look at you properly. Why was a young, beautiful thing like you bothering to speak to him? He arched his brows. "By myself--? That's by choice, not because I don't have friends, you know."

"You didn't ask me, I offered. I'm buying the Chief of Police a drink. Least I can do for you doing your duty," you grinned, ignoring his further comments. He closed his eyes in annoyance, sighed through his nose and begrudgingly agreed.

"Let me give you a ride home," Hopper told you an hour or so later, sliding the empty glasses toward the barkeep. "Least I can do after you bought me a single drink."

You grinned upon seeing a smile twitch on his usually stoic face, then slid on your coat. "I didn't tell you to pay for my other drinks. I just... let you do it. It's fine, I'll drive myself home."

"No, no-- not happening." He was already ushering you out, a large hand hovering near your lower back. The bitterly cold air of the evening woke you up slightly, and you grimaced at the change in temperature. "I'll hafta arrest you for drink-driving. Wouldn't want that."

Being slightly merry, you bit your lip into a smile of mischief and eyed him. "Would that involve you putting me in handcuffs?"

That kinky little shit. I knew it. Hopper stared at you for a few moments, then continued to whisk you to his truck. "Yes."

Jim helped you into the passenger side of the truck, closed the door for you and then made his way to the driver's seat. He cleared his throat and glanced your way. You had slid your coat down your shoulders just a little to allow the cold air around your breasts. And yes, he could see your nipples trying to poke through the fabric of your shirt. Dark gaze lingered on them for a moment before he cleared his throat again and switched on the engine. "Thanks, uh, for keepin' me company tonight," he mumbled.

"Oh-- don't mention it. It's nice to not drink by myself for once."

"You there a lot?" he queried, taking a look behind before reversing out of the parking spot.

"Mm, sometimes," you hummed, popping the cap off of your lipstick and topping it up in the mirror. Hopper wished you wouldn't do that. It was making his mind go to places, places it had been that same morning. Making him think about how beautiful you'd look with those beautiful plump lips wrapped around his cock, pumping and sucking...

And then you broke his trance with a question. "Should you even be driving?"

"What?"

You returned the lid to your lipstick and put it in your handbag. "You're technically drink-driving, Chief."

God. Stop calling me that. He glanced your way, a gentle smirk tugging at his lips. "What'd you just call me?"

Brows arched, you stared at him and tried to ignore the pulsing between your thighs. After a short pause, you answered him, albeit a little quieter. "Chief."

"Exactly. I'm the Chief of Police, I can do what I want." And what I want is to fuck your brains out.

You simply rolled your eyes and chuckled a little, opting to look out of the window. Jim took that opportunity to steal a few glances at your body, the way your skirt perfectly hugged your hips, how the low-cut top showed off your delicious breasts. How he'd like to grab them, knead them, suckle on your perfect little nipples. He swallowed thickly, making an attempt to ignore his twitching cock. No, not twitching-- it was throbbing.

When you turned to look for any packs of cigarettes Jim had laying around his car, it wasn't difficult to see what he was trying to hide. It only made your core ache more for him, and from what you could see, he was big. You diverted your gaze from it quickly, locating the cigarettes, and sparked up. The first exhale definitely helped to calm you down, but it was barely a distraction from how sopping wet you felt.

The rest of the ride was quiet, almost awkward considering how you were both feeling (unbeknownst to each other), but Hopper broke the silence when he pulled into the trailer park. "Which number are you again?" he mumbled. He knew the number.

"Right there." You pointed at your trailer, which was painted light blue (a DIY job Eddie Munson had helped you with, much to Steve's dismay).

Hopper pulled up at the side of your home, hands resting in his lap to conceal what was going on down there. A small smile was given to you. "Home sweet home."

You noticed that he didn't turn off the engine, which was a slightly disheartening, but your horny little brain had other plans. One hand rested on the door handle and you looked across to him, eyebrows raised. "Aren't you gonna walk me to my door?"

Oh, God, why? He looked mildly annoyed, staring at you silently for a moment. "The free ride home not enough?"

"Nope." You flashed him a grin.

Rolling his eyes, Jim switched off the engine and exited the car. In his mind, he was hoping his erection had subsided a little, but he knew full well it wasn't going away until he took care of it. All he had to do was pray you didn't notice. "Alright," he helped you down from the truck, savouring every moment his hands touched your body, "five more steps and you're home safe."

"Huh, chivalry isn't dead, after all," you joked, walking with him to your porch. You fumbled to grab your keys and began to unlock the door.

"Sure," he cracked a small smile again. You were sweet-- he found you to have a decent sense of humour, too. "Uh, thanks again for keepin' me company."

You removed the key and opened the door, looking up at him. "You're welcome. Do you want to come inside for a bit?"

For a moment, Jim's eyes widened and he fell silent. He looked inside, then back to you. "No, I should get goin'. Got stuff to do."

"What stuff?" You held his gaze, subtly ran your tongue along your upper lip.

"Y'know-- laundry. Got some, uh, dirty dishes--"

But he was cut off. Your hand, much smaller than his, had found the outline of his erection, and you were gently rubbing it through his work-slacks. "What else?" you breathed, watching the poor man try to catch his breath.

He swallowed thickly, all too aware of how heavy he was breathing. Gaze dropped to watch your hand, then slowly rose to capture all of the beauty your body held. His eyes finally met yours again. "Gotta take a shower... maybe it can wait..." Without warning, he pushed you inside and slammed the door behind you both, shoving you against the nearest wall. It made the framed photos there shake, but Hopper didn't care. You squealed with surprise-- his cock rubbed against you as his lips met yours, all hunger and pent-up frustration and passion. He groaned against your lips, only pulling away after a few seconds to catch his breath and look at you. Yes, it was clear. You both wanted the same thing.

PART 3 COMING SOON!

#hopper #chief hopper x reader #jim hopper x reader #chief jim hopper #jim hopper #jim hopper fanfic #hopper fanfic #hopper smut #chief hopper smut #hopper x you

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imisscherryboy-blog · 8 months

Text

running back 2 u

enemies to lovers — football player! ajax x sports med! gn reader

part 2 part 3

spotify playlist ★

story: you and ajax have known each other since elementary school. those years haven’t been always the best, as you both parted ways due to your differences in personality. that is, until one hot august night, where the stadium lights illuminate the turf, you find yourself running back to him again.

notes: enemies to lovers, modern au, gender neutral reader, childe is referred to as ajax, last name tartaglia, american football, all characters are 18+ as seniors, highschool setting, use of american education system, reader is in a sports medicine class (if you don’t know what that is it’s basically students that help out at school games, usually water girls/boys/people, assist with injuries) i wrote this with the pov of the reader being a POC but if you’re not just disregard when i say white and stuff lmao + part 1/?, title is an nct reference, debating eventual smut, kaveh and alhaitham are gay

side characters featured: kaveh, alhaitham (alhaitham x kaveh)

warnings: swearing, vivid depiction/description of injury

★ part 1 of an ongoing series ★

you hated ajax and ajax hated you. that much was safe to say. ever since that incident in 9th grade, you never talked to him, let alone acknowledged him. before that, you both had known each other since elementary school. everybody loved ajax, his teachers, his peers, and even you. he just had that personality that made everyone love him; but you knew him underneath that persona. you knew his flaws and he knew yours. he’d tell you things he’d never tell anyone, he trusted you. but, all good things come to an end. in the summer going into your first year at highschool, you found yourself never wanting to speak to him again. he ultimately became the person you two would make fun of together in prior years. a typical, white, football player. but damn was he a good running back. he used to be so charming, but now he was just a playboy that had a new girl in his bed every week. you hated him for it, you hated the person he became, but you mostly hated how he’d plague your mind like a disease.

the day of the game finally came. you and kaveh both wore your school’s varsity jackets and jeans. you guys trudged the god foresaken orange gatorade cooler out to the field for the junior varsity and freshman team. the jv game had just finished, and you began setting up for the varsity game.

“y/n, i can tell you’re scared about ajax.”

“wow kaveh, you’re sooo observant.” you said sarcastically as you both were now in the utility room, filling the water bottles for the players.

“listen, you probably won’t even have to talk to him. as much as he likes to talk behind your back, he’s scared of you. you literally know EVERYTHING about him, you could ruin his reputation in milliseconds.” kaveh had a point. you knew his deepest and darkest secrets, but he unfortunately knew yours as well. you screwed the last lid of the water bottle on tighter than usual as you responded.

“thanks kaveh, but promise me you’ll be the one giving him his water, not me.” kaveh laughed as you said this.

“i’d actually be more than happy too! he’s pretty fine anyways…”

“kaveh— please.” you sighed as kaveh only laughed louder. you walked out to the field, the sky a pretty hue of pink as the jv players left and students filed in the bleachers for the real game. you made your way to the bench, right next to the field and placed the water bottle trays down, as cheering filled the stadium, you both looked behind you.

“ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, our undefeated, five-time league winners, the varsity football team!” the announcer said as the cheers only got louder. the varsity boys ran onto the field, ajax leading the team. you rolled your eyes. you’d admit, he looked good in the navy blue and white jersey, adorning the number 11. ajax was the captain and star of the team, his stats practically outdid any other running back in the county. he ranked first for almost every category, he was a good running back, you’d give him that at least. but at that moment, a feeling came over you. you felt jealous. jealous of the new cheerleader girl he was seeing, jealous of his success, you irrevocably hated him.

“god alhaitham looks good.” kaveh said, very much distracted when they began to sing the national anthem.

“you’re shameless, kaveh.”

“well, the national anthem definitely did not include gay people so…”

the game began, and the annoying and repetitive chants from the cheerleaders almost got stuck in your head. they even had a special one for their glorious star boy tartaglia! you could give zero fucks about him and his stupid chant, but you couldn’t help but notice him staring you down as the rival team took a time out. he gulped his water, sweat dripping from his slicked-back hair, before returning back to the field. as promised, it was kaveh’s job to offer him water, not yours. when one team scored, the other followed suit, the game was neck and neck. watching ajax skillfully receive alhaitham’s (the quarterback) throws and run it was something you could watch all day. but you hated him, so you pretended to look busy every time the home team ran a point. it was halftime now, and you and kaveh hung around the bench. they were up by only two points, it was practically anyone’s game, but that’s what makes the epic highs and lows of highschool football, right?

“swear to god, ajax keeps looking at you.” kaveh whispered to you as you refilled the green water bottles. the boys went into the team room as you and kaveh stayed outside. ajax’s fan girls in the stands had finally calmed down. you just looked at him and looked away as you continued to fill up the water. “like, every time he scores a touch down, he’ll do his stupid little celebration and he’ll glance over here—and then i’d look at you, and of course—‘oh, she’s trying to look distracted and pretend to not care again!’.” kaveh rolled his eyes at you, looking at you for an answer. “you still care about him, don’t you?” this time, you didn’t look at him and just stared at the bottle.

“yeah, like i’d give two shits about the school fuck boy. it’s just, i can’t help but remember how he used to be, that’s all.” it was a blatant lie, and kaveh knew. but he decided to stop pressing where it hurts. and just like that, half time was over and the team looked spent, but they still had 30 minutes to clutch. the cheers started up again. another touchdown, and chants of his name were the only things heard in the stadium. you felt surrounded. you just wanted to go home.

finally, the seventh minute began. the scoreboard emitting a soft glow displayed both home and away teams tied. everyone on the bleachers were all sat for these final minutes. including you. you watched intently with kaveh and your sports med teacher on the bench as they hiked the ball.

“alhaitham, number 9 is going for a throw,” the commentator’s voice reverberated through the field. alhaitham spots ajax, right on the 30 yard line, centered on the field. alhaitham takes a couple steps back and throws, the ball spins with accuracy. the crowd and kaveh all cheer.

“a dot! per usual from quarter back alhaitham, how many yards can their star running back score for the team!” ajax grabbed the ball and went for a right hook, swiftly dodging the defenders. he only got faster and faster as the cheers grew louder. he hooked right, and made his way for that touch down line.

“ajax! ajax! ajax!” the crowd chanted as kaveh and your teacher were now standing. you watched him closely, all of a sudden remembering back to when the two of you competed in your middle school’s flag football tournament. he had signed you up without you knowing, and you both somehow cinched first place.

“oh my god—” kaveh’s gasp snapped you out of your thoughts, as you looked onto the field.

the bleachers were silent now. ajax laid on his side, clutching his knee. the ball was long forgotten now.

“it appears number 11 is down.” the commentator remarked. your heart sank to your ass. you knew that knee injuries could fuck up anyone’s career in seconds. especially a running back’s. before you knew it, you were standing, your teacher yelled something to kaveh as he began running toward him to see what happened, you stood frozen. the cries of his fan girls behind you were the only things you could hear, kaveh was trying to tell you something, but you kept looking at ajax’s writhing body and back to kaveh, and back to ajax, and now at the rival team, and back to kaveh.

“y/n! are you listening? this is serious!” kaveh’s voice was almost a yell.

“i-i’m sorry, what do you need me to do?” you blinked a couple times.

“get the ice pack!” he yelled as kaveh made his way to the scene, the rival team went back to their bench as they were in small groups, most likely talking about what happened. you grabbed the ice pack from the cooler and ran over. his eyes were screwed shut as he cursed loudly, your teacher asking where it hurt.

“ah fuck, my knee! motherfu—” ajax bit back his curses with the back of his hand. your teacher radioed for a golf cart, which made you confused because you’d think someone would be calling 911.

“shouldn’t we be calling an ambulance..?” alhaitham asked, kneeling next to kaveh and ajax’s head. kaveh visibly looked flustered.

“y-yeah. we should! as a matter of fact, why don’t i just call them right—” your teacher cut kaveh off as he interjected.

“it’s a torn acl, if we call an ambulance right now, all they’ll do is give him some ice and painkillers which we very much have. we’re not spending 6k for an ice pack. save that money for the surgery.” your teacher remarked.

“the what..?” ajax looked at him with wide eyes as a campus supervisor came with a golf cart, the crowd was at a stand still.

“kaveh, stay here and take over for me. y/n, come with me.” you knew ajax’s injury was nothing life threatening, but you couldn’t help but worry for his future. you nodded your head as you and your teacher got into the front seat of the golf cart, cursing kaveh in your head, wishing it was him to take your place. ajax’s teammates carefully laid him on the golf cart and he cursed at them to be more careful. you rolled your eyes.

“ajax, we’re gonna need you to talk to us, we can’t have you passing out.” your teacher drove the golf cart to the recovery room, making sure to drive slowly over any bumps.

“you want me to talk? well, a torn acl is gonna ruin my goddamn career—fuck!” the golf cart jerked forward a little, making him curse.

“it’s probably not completely torn, ajax. you’ll recover in no time.” your teacher said.

“you’ll probably be out for the season.” you added, you couldn’t help but add a little salt in the wound.

“you’ll be out for the fucking year if you don’t shut the fuck up.” ajax snapped back at you.

“you need some ice dipshit?” you turned around with the ice pack and tossed it onto his knee, making him yell out in pain.

“what the FUCK is wrong with you—” he yelped in pain again, you just rolled your eyes.

“y/n! cut it out! you too, ajax. we’re here.” the teacher took the key out of the golf cart and looked at you. “i need to call his parents and file a report for the insurance, i’m trusting you to patch any cuts and tape his knee for the time being. keep the ice on it—and please don’t assault him.” your teacher was already on their way as they headed towards the office. you didn’t even get a minute to protest.

“no fucking way they just left me with this loser.” ajax scoffed from the back seat of the golf cart.

“at least my knee still works.” you grabbed the key and unlocked the recovery room, it had a couple of medical beds and cabinets filled with all kinds of medical equipment. you turned the lights on as you heard ajax outside yell.

“now you’re just leaving me? jesus, i couldn’t have asked for someone better to help me.” you ignored him as that was not what you were doing. you went to the smaller room in the back to get a wheelchair to get him onto one of the beds. you walked back outside, ajax’s face turned from one of pain to an angered look the minute you stepped outside. you wheeled the wheel chair to him.

“get on.” you said with little to no remorse.

“yeah let me just fly onto the fucking wheel chair why not. can you help me?” ajax yelled as he tried to sit up straight on the back seat. you scoffed and somehow got him onto the wheel chair. you both were silent, but you knew when ajax went quiet, he was overthinking. you knew he was thinking about what he’d do with his injury. you decided to give him something else to think about.

“it’s not that bad ajax. you survived skateboarding into a brick wall, i’m sure you’ll be fine.” you brought up an old memory the both of you shared.

“everyone saw. even the fucking scouters—i’m done for.” your words seemed to fly past his head. almost like he forgot about you and his’ history. you helped him onto the medical bed and made him sit straight so you could tape his knee. you went into the back room to get more ice. from the main room, you heard him start talking again.

“when i ran into that brick wall, you were the only one there. i didn’t have scouters that could get me d1 scholarships.” he remarked. he did remember at least. you came back with a roll of medical tape and some ice.

“you need to roll you pants up past your knee.” you went for the straight forward route as anything else would’ve gotten too awkward.

“yeah no fucking way that’s happening, cut it off for all i care.” you figured getting the leg of the pants over his injury wouldn’t be the most best of things, so you grabbed a pair of scissors and cut his pants just above his thigh. he hissed in pain even though you didn’t even touch it. he was always this dramatic, you thought to yourself. you unrolled the pieces of tape and got to work. if ajax was good at football, you were the best at sports medicine. you knew how to wrap an ankle like second nature—a big part of the reason why your teacher asked you to assist, not kaveh. he went quiet again, and you’d much rather have him yelling at you than overthinking the situation after all this.

“how’s teucer?” you asked as he hissed whenever you’d place a piece of tape on his knee.

“w-why do you care? can you be any more gentle?” you looked up at him and kept working. you weren’t any gentler, you just worked slower to make it look like you were. he fell for it easily.

“he’s fine. he just graduated elementary—ow, school.” he responded after a minute passed.

“that’s good.” you said in quieter-than-usual tone. you couldn’t deny it was still awkward between you two. you hadn’t had a conversation like this in practically years, and you never thought you would have to. “so what exactly happened out there? you trip or something?” you knew he didn’t trip. you also knew that ajax had a tendency to overestimate himself, overall causing him more harm than good.

“the turf must’ve been off.” he said looking away. ajax was well aware he let himself get cocky. it was the final minutes of the game and he wanted to end it off strong. in doing so, he got himself a torn acl. good going ajax.

“mhm..”

“what? don’t believe me?” before you could answer the question, your teacher walked in. the first thing ajax asked was if they won the game or not. his “half touchdown” didn’t count, leaving them still tied.

“we won. but it was still a close call.”

ajax looked like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. he was already upset with his injury, and a loss especially with their title as undefeated would be 10x worse. you tried to look normal, but in truth, you were a little happy for the team. after all, you had some sense of school pride.

“your mom is outside. i’ve talked to her already and explained the injury in length. please focus on resting, then let’s talk about your next games.” with that, your teacher left you both alone again.

“can you walk?” you asked.

“i’ll try.” he said wincing as he got up. you went to his side and put his arm around you. it was silent. you helped him to the parking lot, occasional swears were heard from him. you said his mom waiting outside of the car.

“oh sweetie!” ajax’s mom held him tightly.

“hi mom, i’m fine.” his words were muffled into her shoulder.

“oh goodness, let’s get you in the car!” she helped him into the passanger seat. they spoke to each other in russian, it sounded like he was getting scolded. it was none of your business anyway. after doing so, she came back out.

“y/n? i remember you!” she said, giving you a hug.

“hi mrs tartaglia.” ajax’s mom had a soft spot for you. she’d always pack you extra food, and would never fail to treat you like one of her own, it made you happy. due to the circumstances, you hadn’t seen her in what felt like years.

“how’ve you been? we’ve missed you!” her hand stayed on your shoulder, her voice was genuine. but who exactly did she mean by “we”?

“i’ve been alright, thanks for asking.”

“ajax still talks about you, you should come over some time! teucer and tonia miss you!”

huh?

did you hear that right?

maybe it she didn’t actually mean it like that, why would ajax still be talking about you?

ajax rolled down the window and stuck his head out.

“mom i’m hurting let’s go.” he half shouted.

“alright, alright. i’ll see you soon hopefully, y/n! thank you for looking after ajax!” she said with a warm smile as she got back in the car before you could say a word. you simply waved and smiled back at her. you glanced over for a second, seeing ajax on his phone. you didn’t understand. did ajax really stil talk about you? you’d have a lot to tell kaveh..

the two of them left the parking lot in their black tahoe suv. you just stood and watched. you cursed to yourself. you couldn’t understand why ajax’s words pulled at your heartstrings a little. you were confused. and things would only get more confusing from there.

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writingstoraes · 11 months

Text

begin again 🌷 (split pt. 3)

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: the long awaited part 3! this took so long only cause i had no idea how i want it to go lol anyway i hope u guys love this one :D lmk what u think!

about: almost a year after your split with charles, fans take a trip down memory lane and wondering why the two of you seemed to have watered things down after soft launching other people months ago. a bunch of rumors also set twt crazy along with speculations at your paddock appearance where you apparently support ferrari.

read: part 1, part 2 (can read on its own, but the parts provide context hehe)

yourusername

liked by isahernaez, lilymhe, landonorris, and 231,298 others

yourusername back at the happiest place on earth ❤️

lilymhe Have fun, love xo

yourbff Looking that good just to watch a race????

tyretactics QUEEN I ALWAYS LOOK FORWARD TO YOU EVERY RACE

charliez1655 miss mam twt is on fire we all miss you 😪

leclercsluv wdym shes almost always at every race ricciardoshooey no they meant w charles lol

yourusername recently added to her instagram story!

Now playing: Charles Leclerc, 2023 Austrian GP, Post-Sprint Shootout Interviews

yourusername

liked by yourbff, lilymhe, carlossainz55, and 210,593 others

yourusername on a wednesday, in a cafe, i watched it begin again

lecslover looking GOOD AS HELL QUEEN

sainzplaylist god shes back to the man shes been soft launching i think i am going to be: sick

1655lecs that might be charles, we don't know 🙏 sainzplaylist yeah i think its time we let that go lol

wagsqueens mam im sorry wym by begin again???

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, finemidnights, carlossainz55, and 982,221 others

charles_leclerc It's nice to have a friend 🌅

tyreexpert u cant tell me thats not y/n 😪 she's his friend after all...

joris__trouche Looking sharp!

lecssainz16 war is over you guys theyre back at it i am in my acceptance stage now

Some months later...

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, lilymhe, and 756,293 others

yourusername i am and willl always be your number one fan. words cannot encapsulate how proud i am of you; truly, you deserve all of this and so much more. congratulations, my love ❤️

it's nice to see you running towards me again :)

ps. yes we've been soft-launching each other the past months hahaha

leclercfan AM I DREAMING SOMEONE PINCH ME

livwatchraces i screamed when i saw you guys on the screen!!!

carlossainz55 Aaand they're back 🎉

charles_leclerc Thanks, number one shipper

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen, arthurleclerc, and 1,982,384 others

charles_leclerc Sunshine in human form.

A few months ago, I started hanging on to the fact that in good faith and in good time, things will eventually work its way out. Almost a year ago, it seems as if we have closed a chapter but today, we are living proof people who are made for each other can begin again.

Ce sera toujours toi 🤍 It will always be you.

scuderiaferrari We missed you tons, Y/N! ❤️

wagsf1 the queen of all queens is back we love to see it

lecslover it's years later and he still talks about her the same way he always have 🥹

sainzchamp The way theyve been soft launching each other all this time and that one rumor of Charles being with another girl was still Y/N 😭

yourusername sold our apartment already? too bad 😆

charles_leclerc I never actually sold it, if I did, I'd probably buy it back

---------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy, @mehrmonga, @mess-in-side, @leclerc16s, @thelovehypothesis, @dakotali, @aldene-styles

notes: eeee and its finally done! cant believe it took so much time before i finished all three parts lol anyway thank you so much for those who waited for the part three (i see all the asks on my inbox and the comments ehehe) i really just didn't know how i wanted it to go so! i hope you guys love this and lmk what you think <3

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the-modern-typewriter · 1 year

Note

hey~ first off i love ur writing, it’s so gorgeous.

second, may i request something similar//continuation of the king x rogue series from like 3 years ago?? rly old so i understand if u don’t wanna bring it back but one of my favs of yours <3

(This one, I think -though this isn't a continuation)

"My lord."

The king jumped out of his skin (in a very kingly manner, of course) and whirled in his seat.

His rogue smirked at him from - he wasn't even near the window, he was lounging against one of the walls as if he'd been there the whole time. He hadn't.

"You're like a cat," the king said. "A ninja cat."

"A very royal assessment, my lord."

The king scowled at him.

The rogue's smirk grew. He pushed himself off his languid incline, shadowed by the encroaching evening, and closer to the pool of golden light which bathed the king's private desk. The king always privately thought that his rogue looked better in gold than he did.

Up close, however, there was something unreadable in the rogue's eyes. The king had seen it before, many a time, but he'd never quite managed to decipher it.

The king's scowl thus deepened. "You only call me 'my lord' when you're mocking me."

"I would never mock you, my lord."

"Or when you're about to tell me something that you know I won't like."

The rogue's smirk transformed into that something else - softer, but just as indecipherable. "Are you ready for your grand festivities tonight?"

"It's a ridiculous tradition."

"Most traditions are."

"Thank the fates that I'll have you by my side."

The rogue hesitated.

The king twisted properly in his chair, rising from his desk and his stolen moment for never-ending duties. His eyes narrowed. "Thank the fates," he said again, "that I'll have you by my side."

His rogue was always at his side, at his heels; his deadly, playful, dependable shadow. It had been that way since they were teenagers.

"My lord-"

"Do not." The king resisted the urge to fold his arms across is chest, because they were not boys anymore, and perhaps it was absurd to feel hurt. Betrayed, even. Yet... He swallowed and tried to keep his voice light. "You don't want to see who I pick to marry? You're going to have to put up with her forever."

His rogue, unusually enough, didn't say anything.

"At the very least," the king continued, "there'll be wine and dancing and games. All things, I recall, which are very much to your liking." It was more to his rogue's liking than his, certainly. He'd grown up the diplomat, but the only time he ever really had fun at such affairs was when his rogue was at his side, talking him into something that was probably a very bad idea.

"My lord." His rogue's voice was as warm and catching as a fire spark. "I can say with the utmost certainty that I have no desire to see who you pick or propose to tonight."

It was his kingdom's tradition that a new king, on the anniversary of his coronation, must throw a ball and invite all the eligible young women of the kingdom. He must then, over the course of three nights, choose one of them to marry. Of course, most of the time, the who was practically decided well before then informally. But it was still tradition.

He'd never considered that his rogue wouldn't be at his side for it.

"Oh," he managed. He was unsure how to reconcile the words with the tone. He cleared his throat. "I see."

"I don't think you do."

Their eyes met. The puzzle pieces flew together as his rogue took a step closer still, taking his hand with a boldness that would have shocked anyone outside of the room.

"I can't," the rogue said again, with no trace of that perfect, infuriating smirk.

The king didn't pull his hand away. The rogue's was rough against his own, scarred from fights and wounds that were meant for him instead. Still, he didn't know what to say.

I would choose you, if I could wouldn't fix the problem. Oh wasn't anywhere near enough, and I'm sorry felt like an insult to the both of them. It didn't change the obligations he had to his kingdom.

He could have prepared a thousand speeches for the moment, but his mouth still would have been too dry to come out with a single useless word to encompass everything. He pulled the rogue's hand up to his lips, instead, pressing a kiss to his rogue's knuckles in the same way a courtier might swear fealty to their sovereign.

The rogue closed his eyes. His shoulders sagged.

People would enter the room soon enough, they would whisk the king away to get ready for this grand and important night, and his rogue...

"You're leaving," the king said, finally. "I understand."

"What?" The rogue's eyes snapped open. "No."

Dizzying relief flooded the king and it must have shown on his face.

The rogue made a performance of rolling his eyes. "You'd be dead in a week without me." He dropped the king's hand, gave a smirk that didn't quite match up to the sharp shine of his usual, and stepped back. "I'll just be spending the next three nights getting merrily sloshed. You'll be well looked after. I've made the necessary arrangements."

"I'll send over a flagon of wine."

"Don't."

Yeah, that did feel like a pitiful consolation. Crueller than the king had intended it to be. He floundered. His hand felt far too empty. He folded his arms then, before he could stop himself.

"You don't have to stay by my side," he said, instead. The best and most terrible offer he could make.

His rogue opened his mouth, then closed it. He studied the king with uncharacteristic seriousness, before his face shifted to its usual carelessness. "Keep this up," the rogue purred, "and I'll think you're trying to get rid of me. See you in three days."

"Goodbye."

He watched his rogue go, heart aching, because what else was there to do that was fair or kind to the man he loved but could not have? Except to say goodbye.

He wished he could avoid watching himself get married to someone else too. He turned back to his desk, any vague excitement he'd managed to muster for the ball evaporated. He rubbed a tired hand over his eyes, when no one was there to see it.

He was, thus, surprised when the rogue appeared behind him again, pulling him around. Warm hands cupped his jaw with surety, and then the rogue's lips were pressed against the king's. Sweet and claiming and - if the king's heart had not been willingly given long ago - enough to steal anyone's love.

He'd imagined what it might be like to kiss his rogue so many times. He'd always feared that if he let himself try, he'd never be able to stop.

They broke apart, breathless; the king a little dazed.

"Tell your people," the rogue said, pulling him towards the bed. "That you're going to be fashionably late to that party."

#king x rogue #rogue #friends to lovers #writing #royalty #fiction #creative writing #story #story snippet #writing snippet #romance #m/m #lgbtq #lgbtq romance

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girlfailure-smut-hour · 10 months

Note

hiii , if i can ask for like mammon and mc sitting in his room and he tried to "do it" with her a lot of times but she just stop him , one day he get a little mad so asked for asmo help , so asmo asked mc what was the reason and she told him that she feel insecure abt her body , he conferm her، and when asmo tell mammon abt it he go to her and make her love her body on his way

thanks if u accept it and if not have a good day<3333333

"You’re beautiful to me"

Nsfw content MDNI

Characters: Mammon X Fem!Reader

CW: Nipple play, Oral (Receiving,) Penetration (Receiving.) Some gendered language and MC has breasts, but ambiguous genitals as always. MC has unspecified body insecurities.

A/N: Thanks for the request! <3 This is such a cute idea! Body positivity is so important! I've never written Mammon, but it was fun! He's just a sweetie. ~1600 words.

It wasn't the first time this had happened. You were sitting with Mammon on his couch and he leaned over to kiss you. It’s not like you weren’t attracted to him obviously. He was so handsome, but you didn’t feel like you deserved him at all. You had apprehensions and insecurities about your body, not that he would have known. How could you let him see you fully, or touch you? You were afraid he would be disgusted.

As he leans in for a kiss you put a hand on his chest and push him away. “I’m sorry,” You say suddenly, “I need to go.”

Again, he’s taken aback, looking frustrated, almost angry; Probably wondering if it was something he was doing wrong, or maybe if you just weren’t attracted to him. He opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it.

You get up and walk out of the room. Saying “I’m sorry,” again as you leave. If only you could just get over your insecurities around your body, but it’s not so simple.

The next day, Asmodeus catches you in the hall. “Hey,” He says. “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” you reply. “How about you?”

“Just okay?” He asks. “That won’t do at all! What’s the matter?”

“It’s Mammon,” You say. "I don't know where to begin…"

“He talked to me,” Asmo nods. “I don’t want to let too much on, but do you maybe want to talk about it?”

“It’s just he’s so handsome,” You say.

“Well that doesn’t sound like a problem,” Asmo laughs. “Just the opposite actually.”

“Well,” You say, rubbing your arm and looking down, “I just… have some insecurities… about my body. I like him. A lot. I just don’t know if I can do it.”

“Darling!” Asmo exclaims. “You’re gorgeous! What do you have to worry about? Mammon would be lucky to have you, that slouch!”

“Thanks Asmo,” You laugh. You explain in detail to him what you don’t like about your body and he listens carefully, nodding as he does.

As you finish, Asmo says “He really likes you. You should take him seriously when he tells you how he feels. Give him a chance. Besides, I think he would understand and know exactly how to treat you.” He winks and walks away.

You feel a little better after getting to just talk about it, and of course a few compliments from Asmodeus could boost anyone’s ego. Maybe he was right and Mammon could actually help instead of making things worse.

Later that day, you visit Mammon in his room. Your heart is pounding as you knock on the door. Would Mammon try with you again? Would you be able to let him? You shake your head to clear your thoughts.

“Heya beautiful,” He says as he answers the door. He winks at you and flashes his beautiful smile at you. You roll your eyes and scoff, but inside, his compliment makes you happy.

You walk in and sit on the couch as usual. Mammon sits next to you.

“Asmodeus talked to me,” Mammon says. He looks like he's going to explode with nervous energy. It's not like him, usually so confident and cool.

“I know,” you laugh.

“I love ya,” He blurts out. “All of ya! You don’t have to worry about what I’m gonna think, cause I’m gonna love ya no matter what! You’re beautiful to me and nothin’s gonna change that.”

“Mammon… That’s so sweet,” You say. “I… I want you. I think I’m ready.”

He smiles. “It’s okay if you’re not. I’m just happy to know that ya don’t hate me!”

“No” You laugh. “I really like you.” You blush.

He smiles and looks at you, this time really seeing you. His piercing blue eyes have such a gentle look today. The way he looks at you makes you feel more comfortable already. It makes you feel… beautiful.

You’re blushing immensely as he leans closer. Your heart is thudding as he cups your face, bringing your eyes to his. His skin is so warm and soft against yours “Is this okay?” He asks. You nod and he brings his lips to yours for the first time. His lips feel soft and sweet against yours. He wraps you into a soft kiss that grows more passionate with each passing second until he wraps you up in his arms and takes you to the bed.

He lays you down, and says “Are ya sure this is okay?”

You look away and blush. “I’m ready," you reply.

He crawls onto the bed over you, kissing you again. You can feel his warm, strong hands making his way down your body, soaking you in. He feels the hem of your shirt and begins to pull it up, and reluctantly you let him. As he pulls your shirt over your head he looks over your body and smiles. “You’re more beautiful than I coulda imagined,” he says, as he begins to kiss you in all the spots you confided insecurity about. Gentle little kisses to tell you that no matter what you thought about yourself, he thought you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

He wraps your arms around his neck and he pulls you up. You giggle as he does and bashfully look away when his eyes meet yours.

“Ya still doing okay?” He asks.

“Yeah,” You smile.

“Good,” He says, turning you around, “Cause I’d never want ya to be sad!”

He kisses the back of your neck and your shoulders. His surprisingly soft fingers dance around the skin that your bra straps sit against. He brushes them gently off your shoulders and fiddles with the clasp for a second. Suddenly you feel the pressure release around your shoulders as the cups fall away from your breasts. He pulls you in close, and it’s impossible to ignore his hard cock pressing against you, even as he grabs your breasts with his strong hands. You lean back into him and moan a little as he rubs your nipples. He kisses your neck some more.

Running his hands up and down your body, he makes his way down to your pants. He pulls them down along with your panties. Your heart is pounding now as you’re fully nude in front of him.

“Why don’t ya lay down?” He asks, turning you and laying you on your back.

He returns to kissing you all over your body, focusing on the parts of your body that you didn’t love about yourself, but he did. The funny thing is, he was able to make you forget about it entirely before he’d even gotten your pants off.

He makes his way gradually to your hips, spending lots of time planting little kisses on your legs; each kiss sending a little shiver up your spine. His lips brush the soft skin of your inner thigh as he gets closer and closer. He casually brushes your genitals with his nose and you shake under him, the pleasure already building up in sensitivity that explodes when his lips actually touch down. You gasp and moan as he licks you up and down.

“Oh my god that feels so good, Mammon,” You moan. You can feel him smile against your skin, proud of himself, and no doubt enjoying himself too.

He’s incredibly skilled with his tongue, teasing more moans out of you as he swirls it around. Your back arches and you shiver as he runs his tongue over you relentlessly. Your moans are getting louder with each second and your hips start to move on their own. Mammon starts to moan himself as you grind into him, the vibrations of his voice adding more to the sensation. It’s enough to send you over the edge and with one loud long moan, you cum.

Panting and moaning, you lay there as Mammon crawls over you. He pulls his pants down and puts his cock against your entrance. “Are you ready?” He asks.

You try to respond, but all you can do is nod your head. He smiles and presses slowly into you. You moan as you can feel his length push into you. He takes his time pressing all the way in. You look up at him and he meets your eyes with those beautiful blue eyes. He cups your cheek as he presses all the way into you and kisses you as he begins to pull out. You moan into his mouth as your tongues wrap around each other.

His thrusts are slow, but intense. Each time he pushes his hips into yours you can feel all of his length against your walls. He does deep passionate thrusts as he kisses you. It’s the gentle kind of sex that shows how much he cares about you.

You wrap your arms around his neck as he starts to thrust faster, but still just as deep. You cling to him as he kisses you, your sweaty bodies wrapped up in your passion. You moan into his mouth as he pumps into you, each moan getting higher pitched and faster.

Mammon pulls away, sticky trails of saliva running between your lips. “I’m gonna cum,” He groans.

“Me too,” You reply.

He thrusts into you a few more times and you feel his cock throbbing inside as he pumps his hot cum into you. It pushes you over the edge and you cling to him tightly, shrieking in pleasure.

The two of you sit the for a moment, almost afraid to move. Finally, Mammon starts to pull out and the sensation is almost too much to bear. He does it slowly and waves of overstimulating pleasure wash over you. When he’s out, he lays next to you and smiles as he plays with your hair.

“I hope that was okay,” He says.

“It was amazing,” You say, panting still.

He just smiles and looks at you as you doze off, happy to have finally gotten to be with you.

#obey me smut #obey me mammon X Reader #obey me mammon smut #mammon smut #obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me x reader #om! mammon #obey me mammon #mammon x reader #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb

244 notes · View notes

k-atsukibakugou · 1 month

Note

congrats on two years!! what an amazing milestone to hit! 💕 i feel so lucky that i'm here and caught this!

if it's alright with you, i'd like to order one bloody mary (my fav) + one bakugo please. can't wait to see where this drink takes me 🙂‍↕️

bunny!!! thank u so much! n ty for being here my love! i hope you like your cocktail ehehehe birthday bash intro + rules + menu | event masterlist

a bloody mary, a classic, and the bartenders personal favourite, his speciality, the process second nature to him after years behind the bar; his muscles moving on their own accord to chop the celery, slice a lemon and pour the vodka, juice and sauce. he hardly even measured anymore, the recipe was something he could do in his sleep, he could probably rake in tips doing his pours blindfolded, they were always perfect anyway, he wouldn’t have a thing to worry about.

they’d even started making it a special the nights he worked the bar, but sometimes he needed a break from the monotony of it all, of pouring, of shaking, of measuring, of chopping, of straining. sometimes he just needed a pretty distraction.

“can i get a bloody mary please?” the moment you handed him the token for your free drink, bakugou knew you’d be the perfect choice for his game, so gorgeous, all done up to dance with your friends, your dress a little short and your shoes a little high, you even wobbled a little on your way up to the bar.

“sure you can handle it? we have margarita’s as well,” his eyes rake over you, his tone playful enough, poking fun even as he leans closer, resting his forearms on the dark wood. you stare up at him, distracted momentarily from fiddling with the strap of your shoe, meeting his vermilion eyes, a wicked twinkle shining nearly as much as his pointed canines, his lips pulled back into an easy, confident smirk, “i like bloody mary’s, thank you very much.”

you can’t help the attitude sneaking into your tone; first you wait in line for nearly an hour, your shoes are already hurting your feet, and now the bartender can’t even make you the drink you want? what kind of night did your friends rope you into?

bakugou tries not to let it show how your attitude makes his hips jump, how his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his skull at how you spoke to him, this game was always more fun with brats; getting to watch the attitude melt the wetter he got you, he wouldn’t even have to fuck you to leave your brain blank. nodding, he tried not to let his mind wander too far making your drink, the routine doing nothing to distract him of the thought of you under him, only able to spit out his name.

the chopping, squeezing, measuring and pouring happened before the bass dropped on the song blasting out of the speakers surrounding the bar, the only break in his routine when he got to the tabasco sauce. spinning on his heel to face you once more, he talks again in that infuriatingly seductive voice, “how much can you take, sweetheart?”

if your drink had been ready, you’d have choked on it, the gravelly tone of his voice making your heart spike and your legs wobble, even with the strap of your shoe fixed, “i’m sorry?”

“i’m just askin’ how much heat you can handle, baby,” the expression on his face is anything but innocent, holding the neck of the tabasco bottle between two thick fingers, shaking it gently for emphasis when you stared back at him. with a hot face, your eyes drop to the diamond label, a bloom of embarrassment burning low in your stomach. you were too sober for this kinda flirting.

“oh,” your voice is hardly a squeak, nodding rapidly for him to shake the bottle over the glass again, stirring the glass as he dashed more in,”when.”

“that much? that’s how hot you like it, huh?” he steps closer, impossibly lowering his voice, “c’mon, i know you can take more than that.”

your heart pounds against your chest, your thighs subtly clenching together at the sound of his husky voice, the dirty line making your mind wander further toward the gutter.

“tell me, baby, you want it?” your drink is forgotten underneath the counter, your only focus on the plump of his bottom lip, on the thin chain dangling around his throat, “you want it hot?”

you feel like you need to pinch yourself, surely this is a dream, you didn’t even know this bartenders name—”bakugou! you done with this?”

his eyes don’t falter from yours for a moment, humming deeply in response, “yeah, one second.”

still armed with that lethal smile, he garnishes your cocktail, displaying the neatly chopped celery, two slices of lemon and a couple of leaves of basil beside your straw, the final touches to his speciality. flipping over a napkin, he sits your finished drink atop it, you’re almost certain the drink isn’t as hot as you are right now, your body burning and buzzing without so much as smelling the savoury cocktail. sliding it across the short counter towards you, his dark eyes don’t miss a single one of your movements, eyes sparkling like he could see the daydreams already plaguing you, “enjoy your night, sweetheart.”

#mercurys birthday bash #「mercury answers」#「bunny <3」#「kat <3」#「mercury writes」#bakugo drabble #bakugou drabble #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader

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