#happy get his ass Tuesday

[earlgreyscentedgarbage]

"There are other things Ethari likes" - unfortunately a good number of those things are in coins or off saving the world

#happy belated birthday to him #i meant to get this out on tuesday but school is already kicking my ass #anyways here he is! #someone please give him his entire family back for his birthday next year #tdp #the dragon prince #ethari #grey's art

[avis-writeshq]

01 — better than revenge

summary: “she’s not a saint, no, she’s not what you think. she’s an actress.”  pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn warnings: fluff, angst with a happy ending, Lila is a real piece of work here, VERY CANON COMPLIANT, Spencer’s a bit of an ass :( wc: 10.4k a/n: special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading MWAH SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

“Hey kid, wheels up in thirty.” Derek nods towards you, dropping a case file on your desk. 

You raise an eyebrow, flicking open the case file to the first page. A small laugh of disbelief leaves your lips. “Ooh, Los Angeles, media capital of the world. What’s the occasion?”

“Three murders, all shot in the head executional style.” 

Your face falls into a grimace as you grab your go-bag and tuck the file under your arm, following the rest of the team to the jet. “Spence and Gideon are there already, right? Talk about timing.”

Elle can’t help but grin at your words, slinking an arm over your shoulder. “Looks like you’ll see loverboy a lot sooner than you think.”

A shriek of betrayal leaves your lips as you throw her arm off of you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Sure you don’t,” JJ all but cackles as she boards the plane, grinning the entire way. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” you grumble, dropping your things on one of the seats in the jet. “Seriously, I mean it. I know how to get away with murder.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow at you, his gaze that of a disappointed yet amused father. “Not the brightest thing to say while you’re in a room full of FBI agents.”

Elle lets out a ‘hah!’ as she sits across from you, crossing one leg over the other as she grins. “Get comfortable, buttercup, six hour flight and you’re not going anywhere.”

“Assholes.” You roll your eyes teasingly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you turn to your case files. “And it’s not like that.”

“Oh, of course not,” Elle snickers, “you’re just friends.”

You throw a pen at her and it bounces off her leg harmlessly. “I can smell the sarcasm.”

“You’ll be smelling more of it,” Derek laughs, ruffling your hair. “Sit tight, kid, we’re in for a long flight.”

Once everyone was settled and the jet was high in the air, the team began to look through the files with Garcia on speaker as usual. 

“First two victims, Wally Melman and Chloe Harris,” You recite dutifully, glancing over the grotesque crime scene images. “Seems like they were both killed in public places.”

“Chloe was killed while walking her dog on the beach in Santa Monica which she did every morning, and Wally was killed outside of a massage parlour,” JJ reiterates, sitting down with a cup of tea in her hand. 

“In Culver City,” Derek adds. 

“Which he went to every Tuesday,” Elle continues.

Derek looks to the rest of the team, a thoughtful look on his face. “Well, if he knows their schedules, maybe that means he follows his victims for a while.”

“And not a single witness. So we know this UnSub can blend in,” Hotch mutters. “Regardless of the location, he has the ability to hide in plain sight.”

“So, he’s meticulous.” Elle nods, her eyes drifting from Hotch to the case file. 

“The media is calling Natalie Ryan’s murder the biggest celebrity homicide since Sharon Tate,” JJ adds, looking through the images of the newspaper clippings that were sent to her laptop.

“Great,” You muse, although frustration is clear in your voice. “What does that mean for us?”

Hotch lets out a sigh. “That everybody will be watching.”

***

“This guy is an assassin?” Detective Kim asks with disbelief as the rest of the team reiterates their thoughts once they were in the police department. 

“When you look at the victimology, there’s no obvious links,” Morgan points out. “All the kills were clean except in the instance of the last victim, Jeremy Collins.”

You nod, tucking a strand of hair as you reference the case files. “There’s absolutely no evidence left at the crime scene. Labs have found zero DNA, no manifestation of psychosexual release, and from what we can tell there’s no detectable signature of any kind. These kills are straight forward, almost like he’s on a mission.”

“Remember, our profiles are formulated not just by what’s present at the scene but also what’s absent,” Gideon says to Detective Kim.

“From all the evidence that we’ve gathered, we believe you’re looking for a Type Four Assassin,” Elle explains.

“Type Four?” 

Spencer immediately jumps in to explain, gesticulating throughout his explanation. “Type One’s are political assassins like John Wilkes Booth. Type Two’s are egocentrics looking for simple recognition.”

“Type Three’s are psychopaths,” Hotch continues, “cold-blooded killers who leave far messier scenes. Type Four, our UnSub, suffers from a major mental disorder and is frequently delusional.”

“The closer we come to figuring out that delusion, the closer we’ll get to finding the UnSub,” Reid points out. 

Everyone is left to their own thoughts and you look over to Spencer, a soft grin on your face. “How was your father-son bonding time?”

Spencer gives you a pointed look, but a soft laugh leaves his lips. “It was… fine.”

“Fine? Out of everyone on the team, Gideon chose you to present a talk about behavioural analysis and profiling to the LAPD. You love conferences. C’mon, give me something!” You nudge his shoulder gently. 

“We uh.. we went to an art gallery the other day. We met a movie star, so that was cool…” his cheeks are dusted with a soft pink as he talks and your curiosity only increases. 

“A movie star, huh? Look at you, mingling with the high and mighty.” You poke his cheek with a laugh. “Tell me about them.”

He flushes at the contact, clearing his throat. “Um… her name is Lila Archer. Have you heard of her? She’s–”

“Reid, (L/N), we’re meeting with someone,” Derek cuts in, nodding towards the both of you.

You blink in confusion as you follow him to another room. “Suspect?”

“Someone received a note,” Derek says quickly, glancing over at the note in Elle’s hands. “On a newspaper clipping of the latest murder.”

“Lila?”

A blonde woman was sitting in the next room over, her legs crossed over as she waits. Her eyes light up in recognition and she stands up. You can’t help but be impressed as you give her a quick once over. She’s gorgeous, exactly what you expect from a famous movie star. 

“I’m Agent (L/N),” You say gently, moving from your spot next to Spencer and holding your hand out. “This is Agent Morgan and I’m assuming you already know Doctor Reid. I understand that you received a note this morning?”

She wearily shakes your hand, her blue eyes flitting between you and Reid. “Yeah.”

“We just have a few questions to ask. We know that these things are sensitive, but we promise we’ll try to make the situation as easy as possible for you.” You shoot her a kind smile, excusing her weariness for fear or anxiety. “Is that alright?”

“Sure.” She respond curtly, shooting a smile towards Spencer before walking past you.

“Uh… okay?” You let out a little laugh in confusion and Derek raises an eyebrow at you.

“What was that about?” He asks, frowning.

You shrug your shoulders, watching as Spencer leads her to an empty desk. “Trust me, I have no idea. Maybe she’s just nervous and wants to talk to a familiar face.”

Derek hums in thought. “Maybe. But usually victims like this are more willing to speak to someone of the same gender. It’s strange that she was so direct to you.”

“She’s been through a traumatic experience. If I got a newspaper clipping with a message written in blood, I probably wouldn’t be too thrilled meeting new people either,” You defend, pursing your lips. “She’s probably just… scared, right?”

He doesn’t respond, moving to follow Spencer and Lila further into the police department. A few questions were asks about her relationship with the other victims, only to find that she was in fact the connection between the other victims. Wally Melman was a producer who Lila met with a few times to discuss a role, only for him to cast Natalie Ryan instead. Chloe Harris looked an awful lot like Lila, so it was likely that the UnSub got rid of her in order to ‘ice-out’ the competition. 

“(L/N), may I talk to you for a moment?” Hotch asks quickly, waving you over. 

You blink in confusion but nod, walking over to where he stands by the desk. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“I want you to try and get as much information from Lila as possible.” He gestures to where Lila sits in one of the victim waiting rooms. “This is your area of expertise. Try and find out if there’s any distinct information that she’s given to anyone so that we can track the UnSub.”

“Got it.” You offer a smile, fixing your shirt as you agree. “I’ll update you if I get any new information.”

You make your way over to where Lila was sitting, trying to look as friendly as possible. “Hey, Lila. Are you alright? Can I get you anything?”

She glances over you for a second, looking you up and down before shaking her head. “I’m fine. Where’s Spencer?”

Your brows furrow at his words. “Doctor Reid…? He’s currently going through the timeline of events with our colleagues. In the meantime, I was hoping to ask a few questions, maybe shed some light on the entire situation.”

She raises an eyebrow before nodding. “Okay.”

“Alright…” you clear your throat, taking a seat across from her. “You mentioned that you receive a bowl of red anemones on the seventh of every month. Do you mind… telling me why you like those flowers so much?”

She shrugs dismissively, running a hand through her blonde hair. “They’re pretty. I like the colour.”

You nod slowly, writing that down in your notes. “Well that’s understandable; they’re very beautiful flowers. But they’re a little uncommon as a favourite flower, don’t you think? If you like the colour, a more common favourite flower would be poppies or roses… are you sure there isn’t another reason? The meaning behind red anemones is forsaken love and death… does that intrigue you at all?”

She scoffs, “are you trying to accuse me of something?”

“Not at all,” you say quickly, “I apologise if it comes off that way. I’m just trying to find out as much as possible about the entire situation. For all we know, those flowers could have been sent by the UnSub.”

A short silence lulls in the room as well as an awkward tension. So, you try to take things from another angle. 

“I love hydrangeas,” you say gently, a small smile on your lips. “I like the way they’re always bunched together and the colours are beautiful. Only a few people know that I like them though. My close friend and colleagues, my family… do you remember telling anyone about your favourite flower?”

She’s quiet for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know.”

Your face falls and you press a little more. “Are you sure you don’t remember? Maybe… maybe your manager, or a friend of yours?”

“I said ‘I don’t know’, okay?” She snaps, her hands balling into fists as she glares at you. “God, it’s not that hard to understand.”

You lean back in your chair, your gaze hardening. “I understand that this is difficult for you, but any information–”

“I don’t have any information!” Lila huffs, her hands placed in her lap. “Are you stupid or something?”

“The likelihood of these people being murdered because of you is incredibly high,” You say sharply, shutting your notebook. “If you’re withholding information from us it could prove detrimental to the investigation. I’m only trying to do my job. Asking you questions is part of my job.”

Her lips twitch at your words and she scowls. “I already told you I don’t remember.”

“Not remembering and not knowing are two different things, Ms Archer.” You place your card on the table. “If you remember anything, please give me a call.”

You get up from your seat, heading to the door, only to see that it was wide open with Derek and Spencer standing at the doorway. In seconds, Lila’s gaze softens and she runs out of the room, sniffling as she does. Your gaze follows her as she runs out of the police station, a look of disbelief on your features.

“What the…”

“Seriously (Y/N)?” Spencer demands, a frown on his face. 

You gape at his words. “What are you–”

He cuts you off, running after Lila. Derek raises an eyebrow in their direction before turning to you. 

“You okay, pretty girl?” Derek asks gently, patting your shoulder. 

“Honestly? I have no idea,” You confess quietly, biting your lip. “I’ve never seen him get so…”

“Upset? Angry?” he finishes, a small laugh leaving his lips. “You and me both. Look, kid, it’s not your fault. She was clearly being dismissive of your questions and she needed a reality check.”

“It’s not like I’ve never spoken that way when interrogating someone before,” You point out, brows furrowed in frustration. “Even then, Spencer has never had an issue with it. I just– I don’t understand what’s got him so worked up.”

Derek can’t help but laugh. “You’re a profiler. Isn’t it obvious?”

You pause for a moment, thinking through their interaction. “He has a crush on her, doesn’t he? He likes her. Of course he does. Brilliant, now he’s involved.”

Derek pats you on the back sympathetically. “Come on, pretty girl. We’ve got a job to do.”

***

Despite your original hesitancy, Hotch asked you personally to go with the others, meaning that you had no right to refuse. Well, you could, but that would mean throwing Elle under the bus and she would be much more helpful at the precinct than on set. So, before you could fake being sick and bail the investigation, you,  Derek, and Spencer went to check out the set of Lila’s movie, hoping to better observe her interactions with her costars and the staff. 

The inside of Lila’s small trailer is hot. Incredibly hot but relatively empty. As you look around, you gather that she’s either a minimalist or just didn’t have to spend a lot time in the trailer at all. Lila sits in front of the little group, wearing a robe to cover her costume: a cyan sequinned bikini set that she looked absolutely criminal in. Her hair has been styled in a classic blowout and you wonder how much time it took to get it to look so effortless.

“I’m not stopping my life,” she says, her voice almost stern as she steps out of the trailer and back onto the set.

You purse your lips as you glance at the paper in the plastic pocket, now labelled as ‘evidence’. Apparently it was taped up to the door of her trailer. Your eyes shift to Spencer who’s gaze doesn’t leave the door that Lila just walked out of for much longer than necessary. Neither of you have spoken since yesterday’s incident.

You hum thoughtfully, as you pull out your notebook, glancing at the notes you’ve been making. “Well, I guess the only thing we can do is talk to the people on set. Maybe they saw something. I’ll see if I can find out who has access to Lila’s trailer.”

Spencer nods in your direction. “Yeah, that’s… that’s a good idea.”

One of your eyebrows quirk up. “Okay…? Why do you sound so surprised?”

He flushes under your scrutiny, clearing his throat as the three of you begin to walk out of the trailer and towards the set. “I’m not! I– I’m not surprised. You’re good at your job.”

“You didn’t seem to think that yesterday,” You respond lightly, your tone petty and passive aggressive, gaze flickering between the cameras and lights on set. 

Derek coughs awkwardly before excusing himself and entering further into the set leaving you and Spencer alone outside by a vending machine. Spencer falters at your words and he runs a hand through his hair. The harsh Los Angeles sun beats down against your skin and you fiddle with the notebook in your hands. In turn, he fixes up his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbow, giving you a clear view of his forearms and large hands. 

“I’m sorry,” He says softly, chewing on his bottom lip. “I didn’t– I was out of line.”

“You were,” You agree, your gaze shifting between the chilled bottled drinks in the vending machine and him. “Buy me a drink and we’ll call it even.”

A boyish grin grows on his face and he nods, pulling out his wallet. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, awesome. Iced coffee?”

“You know me so well,” you respond with an equally large smile, poking his cheek. “Thank you!”

He presses a few buttons, grabbing a Cola for himself. You can’t help but laugh, giving him a pointed look. He quickly moves to defend himself, “It’s a hot day, okay? An exception.”

“An exception,” You repeat, trying to hide your smile as you crack open the lid of your drink and take a sip. “What happened to ‘Cola has 50 grams of sugar in it. That’s the equivalent of eating two full bars of milk chocolate’?”

He pouts at your words, opening his drink and you watch as a few bubbles rise to the top of the bottle. He takes a swig of his drink, sighing in content. “Shut up.”

You laugh again once you officially enter the set, nudging Spencer with your arm teasingly. He nudges you back, rolling his eyes and poking your cheek. You retaliate by doing the same, swinging your drink as you walk. 

Before you could do or say anything else, Derek taps your shoulder. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something.”

Spencer’s brows furrow. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just wanted to cross reference answers,” Derek dismisses. 

“Let me pull up my list,” You respond helpfully, grabbing your notebook. “Hey, Spence, do you mind canvassing the rest of the crew? See if anyone pays any special attention on Lila?”

He nods at your words, moving towards Lila, sipping on his drink. In the meantime, you turn towards Derek, a curious look on your face. 

“Little Miss Madonna has been glaring at you since the moment you entered the set,” Morgan says quietly, his gaze flitting to where Lila was making coffee. 

You practically snap your neck as you look up in her direction, watching as she quickly fumbles to make herself a cup of something. You turn away and you could practically feel her gaze burning against your scalp. A frown makes its way onto your face and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. You glance over to where she and Spencer were talking, blanching when you watch as she takes a swig of his Cola.

“You don’t mind, do you?” You hear her ask as she drinks and Spencer hurriedly shakes his head.

A quiet scoff leaves your lips and Derek nudges you with a look that reads ‘behave.’ You lift your hands in surrender and follow him over to where Spencer now stands by himself, Lila gone to talk to some other staff member.

“An exception, huh?” You ask Spencer, referring to his aversion to germs and sharing food. Your tone is mostly teasing despite the underlying bitterness beneath it. 

“Shut up.” He mutters quietly, cheeks hot from embarrassment of being caught.

Derek snorts, clapping his shoulder before moving on.

***

The next day, you were going over the evidence that was provided by the LAPD. Considering that it was a relatively young case, there weren’t copious amounts of evidence, meaning that there were still untied strings to go through. The entire situation proved more difficult than necessary; no one seemed to notice anything  amiss when it came to Lila and her relationships, and considering that the actress wasn’t very forthcoming with the information she knew, you were hitting dead-end after dead-end. 

Although geographical profiling was more of Spencer’s expertise than yours, you figured it wouldn’t do anyone harm by triangulating the previous three murders. He was standing beside you, his presence not unwelcome as he guides you step by step on how to plot an understandable and accurate profile. Hotch had asked him to coach you through the entire situation and explain his point of view, as well as his thought process when it came to geographical profiling. With a comfort zone now clearly expressed, you were discussing probable suspects on the phone with Garcia.

“Will Hunter… currently the town hermit, previous criminal record of armed battery and robbery,” Garcia recites, and you pull up his file.

“Mm… maybe? No, I don’t think so. His crimes don’t match the UnSub’s profile. He seems to be messier, uh, tending to use bats and knives than a clean shot to the head. And the profile suggests that the UnSub is able to blend in with the crowd.” You hum in thought, turning to Spencer.

“Hermits like Will Hunter wouldn’t be able to do that,” He explains to Garcia, putting his file into the ‘unlikely’ folder.

Garcia sighs in frustration and you can hear her furiously type away on her computer. “How about–”

“Hold that thought,” Elle says quickly, cutting Penelope off apologetically. “(Y/N), did you know Lila’s here?”

You blink in confusion, slowly shaking your head no. “She’s here? I didn’t get any calls from her.”

Elle shrugs at your words. “She looks like she’s going to burn a hole through your head.”

Your brows furrow and your gaze shifts to the blonde woman through the office window. She has her arms folded over her chest, a scowl on her face, before her cheeks burn in embarrassment of being caught. Spencer follows your gaze, his face lighting up at the sight of the actress. It’s almost as if he has selective hearing when it comes to his celebrity crush, clearly not hearing the part where Elle points out that Lila has been glaring at you the entire time.

“Can we talk outside?” You ask Elle quickly, getting up from your seat, not taking no for an answer.

Spencer opens his mouth to say something before he shuts it, watching as you drag your other co-worker out of the room. Your attention shifts between Lila and Elle, your brows furrowing. 

“What is it?” You ask, your back turned towards the actress. “Why is she here?”

“She gave me a list of people who know what her favourite flower is,” Elle says quietly.

Your ears go red at her words, your eyes practically bulging out of your head. “Excuse me?”

“She called me yesterday,” she explains, handing you the list of people. “She said that she remembers who they were and came in today to give me a list of people.”

You scoff in disbelief, throwing your hands up in the air in frustration. “I gave her my card.”

“She called and asked for me.” 

You scoff again, rolling your eyes. “Oh, so suddenly she can remember everything when she talks to you, but nothing when she talks to me? She’s not very slick.”

The door behind you opens, revealing Spencer who has been listening in the entire time. His jaw is clenched and a frown is etched upon his features as he looks at you accusingly. 

“Maybe she just didn’t remember,” he points out harshly as you and Elle re-enter the room.

An incredulous look makes its way into your face. “Excuse me?”

“She didn’t remember, and now she does,” Spencer says, and from the corner of your eye you watch Elle slowly leave the room once more. The door closes with a soft click.

“That doesn’t change the fact that she went to Elle and not to me,” you respond, trying to keep your voice even and your words clear. You take a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself down.

Spencer scowls at you. “Maybe she has every right to go to Elle after you snapped at her the first time you tried to talk to her.”

“Are you– are you being serious right now?” A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you glare up at him. “Look, Reid, I’m sorry that I’m not her biggest fan and that I don’t kiss the ground she walks on, but I was doing my job. A job that I believe I am quite good at. It’s not like speaking harshly is unheard of when it comes to the retrieval of information.”

He flinches when you call him by his last name but he stands his ground. “If you were so good at your job, you wouldn’t have to speak to her that way,” he argues, and you can see the vein in his forehead begin to protrude.

His words sting and bite you and suddenly you feel your resolve snapping. “You know what?” The words are slow and deliberate as they leave your lips, and you jab a finger against his chest. “I get that you have a crush on her and that you’re finally going through puberty but that does not mean that you can ignore the job you are currently on.”

He swallows thickly and he opens his mouth to retaliate but you push your finger against his chest once more.

“I am not finished.” Your voice is low with frustration and annoyance as you scowl, glaring up at him. “I don’t care who you’re attracted to or who you want to sleep with. I don’t give a damn if that someone is victim in the investigation because it’s not my problem. I do, however, have a problem when you undermine my ability to do my job and do nothing to fix it.

The worst part is the fact that you’re my friend. You’re supposed to be supportive and helpful and– and– and understanding.” Your mouth is moving quicker than your brain can register and you’re stumbling over your words as you snap at him. “I’m supposed to be able to go to you if I’m going through something. I should be able to talk to you if someone or something is bothering me, but now I’m just afraid that you’ll call me crazy and then criticise me all over again.”

His face falls and he looks at you like a kicked puppy as the words slowly sink in. He reaches out to you, his hazel eyes searching your face but the only emotion that you’re showing is anger. You push his hand away, the frown set on your eyebrows. It’s only then when you realise that Garcia has been listening into the conversation the entire time, your heart lurching to a stop when you hear her cough on the other side of the line.

“Um… is now a bad time to say that I didn’t get any other hits for the profile?” She asks tentatively through the speaker, and you feel your face burning.

“I need air,” you announce to no one in particular, before grabbing your files and storming out of the room.

Elle catches your arm on the way out, her eyebrows knitted together in concern. “(Y/N)-“

“Hey. Sorry.” You bite your lip, loosening the grip you have on your papers. “Where’s Hotch?”

“With Derek and Gideon,” she says gently. “Lila got another note and we’re going to check on her manager. Do you want to come with?”

You exhale before nodding. “Yeah. That’d be good.”

“Okay.” She squeezes your arm gently, her eyes flitting between you and Spencer who was inside the conference room, pacing back and forth. “Is… everything alright?”

“Honestly? No.” You offer her a wry smile, shoving your files into your bag. “But it’s fine.”

She chuckles a little in disbelief, leading you to the black SUVs outside. Derek and Gideon were already there, waiting patiently for the two of you while Hotch has already left in another SUV. Apparently the ‘no profiling each other’ rule was thrown out the window as soon as they saw the state you were in, and Derek quickly makes his way over to you.

“(Y/N), are you–”

“I’m fine,” you snap, before closing your eyes tightly and letting out a deep breath. “Sorry, Morgan. I’m okay, just had an argument with Reid.”

At that, his eyebrows shoot upwards. “Since when did you call him ‘Reid’? And what do you mean you had a fight with him? He literally can’t say no to you.”

“Yeah, that was before a Miss Archer walked into the room,” you mutter bitterly. “Shot a literal arrow through his heart. She put her name to good use. I never stood a chance.”

“Hey now, don’t say that,” Elle says, climbing into the SUV. You follow closely behind and she continues. “He’s just confused right now.”

You can’t help but scoff. “I really doubt that.”

Gideon starts the car, looking at you through the rear view mirror. “You’re a profiler. What do you really think?”

The words die at your tongue and you deflate into the seat of the car. You hate to admit it, but Gideon is right. You should be able to figure out exactly what Spencer is thinking. After all, he’s your best friend– you shouldn’t have to be worrying about guessing games when it comes to him.

Hotch is the first to arrive at the manager’s office, watching as your group pull up in front of the building. Once everyone clambours out of the car, they enter the building, a sigh of relief leaving them as they enjoy the air conditioned lobby. With a flash of a badge, the receptionist is quick to tell you which floor and room number Michael was in.

“Floor 11, Room 03,” you mumble to yourself as you scribble it down in your notes.

The elevator ride is silent and you rock back and forth on your feet as the lift begins to rise. Your head is spinning with thoughts and regrets as you consider the harsh words that you spat at Spencer’s face less than an hour ago. You must not have been hiding your frustration well because Hotch finally says something. 

“Is everything alright?” He asks, much like a father would when their child is having a tantrum. It’s fitting.

You shrug. “I will be.”

“Is it to do with Reid?” 

You cough awkwardly, glancing back at the notes in your hand. “That obvious?”

Derek snorts from behind you. “Yeah, a little.”

“Everyone knows you’re in love with him,” Elle adds, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“I am– I am not in love with him!” You all but shriek, shooting her a half hearted glare and you stutter out a response. “I mean, I– uh– I like him but–“

“You are a horrible liar,” Derek cackles and you groan. 

Hotch and Gideon watch amused at the interaction, and the latter finally pipes in.

“Profiling isn’t something you can just turn off,” he explains to you, his tone gentle. He reminds you of a grandfather giving advice to their youngest grandchild, and a small smile makes its way onto your face. He continues to speak, “it’s subconscious and it becomes a habit. The only time it stops is when you either need it most, or when you don’t want to see anything.”

The elevator comes to a stop on the eleventh floor and Michael’s office wasn’t far away. The writing on the frosted glass reads ‘1103, Michael Ryer & associates, talent management’ and Elle raps on the door.

“Hello?” 

“Mr Ryer?” Gideon calls.

She knocks a few times again before opening the door entirely. “Michael–”

You’re met with Michael Ryer, dead in his arm chair and shot to the head, just like all the other victims. Despite having faced these circumstances before, you still feel sick to the stomach as you stare at Michael’s lifeless body and soulless eyes. It’s unnerving.

“Up until now every victim was a person who could be perceived as a threat to Miss Archer,” Hotch comments as they enter the room, pulling out his phone.

“Yeah, but Michael was a friend,” Elle says with a frown.

You look up from your notes. “He was a threat to the stalker.”

In less than twenty minutes, the LAPD dispatched forensics and evidence teams to the office. Lila and Spencer were on their way back to her house, deciding that it was best to deny the stalker access to her. You rifle through Michael’s belongings: his schedules, his files… everything until you come to one particular manila envelope. 

“Morgan, Elle, look at this,” you murmur, pulling the photos out of the envelope. “Pictures of Lila… nude.”

A flash of a grimace passes along Elle’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears. “He was probably paying someone to keep them out of the press.”

“The name on the file says Joe Martinez,” Derek mutters, turning the envelope over.

The name must have struck a chord, because Detective Kim’s head immediately snaps around to look at you. “Paparazzo?”

You blink. “You know this guy?”

“Yeah, I deal with him a lot,” Kim responds, his face stoic. 

“We should follow that lead,” You comment, tucking the photos back in the envelope and looking over at Detective Kim and Derek. “I’m ready to go when you are?”

After an okay from Hotch, you, Derek, and Detective Kim make your way over to the Joe Martinez’s place. After knocking on the door to his place multiple times, Derek decides to open it in the way he knows best: by kicking it down. You grip your gun, holding it out in front of you as you travel through the hallways. 

“Clear!” You yell out upon pushing another door open, seeing nobody inside.

“(Y/N), you need to check this out,” comes Morgan’s call, and you follow the direction of his voice

Pinned above a small desk are picture upon pictures of Lila Archer. When she has lunch, when she’s out with her friends… it’s almost as if this person has completely documented her life. It’s a little nerve wracking, knowing that someone could follow you and take photos without anyone even realising.

“Hey is that–” you pause, pulling a piece of paper off the wall. “This is Lila’s schedule.”

Derek blinks in surprise. “I’m guessing he’s not supposed to have that?”

“No,” Detective Kim responds, and your gaze shifts to the table.

“Hey, isn’t that–” you feel your heart practically stop as you see who’s in the photos. 

“That’s Reid,” Derek mutters.

Kim shifts through the photos. “There’s a whole bunch of them,” he says, pulling out at least five or six print outs. “Is he a target now?”

Derek scoffs, throwing the photos on the table and pulling out his phone, making a beeline for the exit. “Not if I can help it.”

You and Detective Kim follow him out, making your way to the SUV. 

“Reid? Hey, it’s Morgan. Listen, you gotta watch your back over there, we just found a bunch of close-up photos of you at this guy Joseph Martinez’s studio. It looks like he could be the UnSub.”

As he speaks you feel your heart pound in your ears. Your head is dizzy with fear and you’re following after Morgan who’s walking unbelievably quickly. 

“He has a ton of photos of Lila and Nathalie plus a call sheet for Lila’s show,” Derek continues, the speed of his walk not wavering. “(Y/N) and I are on our way right now but I need you to be real careful until we get there, all right?”

You look down to shove your notes back into your bag when you hear it. The distinct vrooming of a motorcycle engine. You don’t think too much of it, only turning your head to look over your shoulder, your hand finding the handle of the car door. That’s all it takes for the motorcyclist to drive straight toward you and the others, pointing an arm out.

“Gun!” You manage to scream, just before the UnSub open fires, hitting Detective Kim. 

You dive behind the car, grimacing when your knee collided roughly against the pavement. By the time you manage to recover and grab your gun out of its holster, the UnSub is long gone. You stare as Morgan fires a couple shots before watching the motorcyclist ride off into the LA traffic,  and you turn to Detective Kim.

“You got hit. Where?” You ask, shoving your gun back into its holster.

He grunts in pain, his entire weight on the car as he groans out, “yeah, it’s fine. Just my shoulder.”

“Derek, call for help,” you order, pressing firmly at the wound with your hand to lessen the bleeding. He lets out a cry of pain and you wince. “Sorry, it’s bleeding a lot. Gunshot wound to the shoulder, no exit wound. Seeing as you’re not already dead, I don’t think it hit any major arteries, but it might have busted your collarbone. You’re lucky if that’s the extent of the damage. The shoulder contains a bunch of important and major bloodlines, as well as nerve endings.”

Derek turns to you with a wry smile. “You’re starting to sound like Reid.”

“You spend four years with him, you’ll start to learn a few things,” you respond with a humourless laugh. You continue to press against Detective Kim’s wound, murmuring an apology. 

“You should talk to him,” Derek prompts.

You scoff, “we have a detective bleeding in front of us and the thing you’re worried about is my love life?”

“Isn’t the first rule of relieving pain through distraction?” He asks. You shoot him an unimpressed look and he quickly nods his head. “Okay, sorry.”

Ten minutes later, Detective Kim is hoisted into the ambulance. You cringe as you wash his blood off your hands, once, twice, then a third time to make sure everything is gone. Your shirt has a couple of blood spots and you can’t help but frown; you liked that shirt. At least the stain isn’t too big– just a few splotches here and there. 

“It’s a good thing you held the wound,” an EMT praises, working quickly to secure Kim’s shoulder. “He shattered his collarbone, but you seemed to have managed to control the bleeding.”

If it weren’t for the circumstances, you would have shouted a clear ‘I told you so’ to both Derek and Detective Kim, but you keep your mouth shut.

Hotch, Gideon, and Elle arrive moments later, speaking to Derek about the detective’s injuries. 

“You okay?” Elle asks gently, squeezing your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, wringing your hands together. “Just a little jumpy. I’ll be fine.”

“We need to get to her house,” Gideon mutters, glancing at the group. 

Without another moment to lose, you’re clambering into an SUV, gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white. Elle climbs into the passenger seat beside you, her brows knitted together in concern. She opens her mouth to say something but shuts it, watching as you start the car and speed off into the direction of Lila’s house. 

After slamming the door shut and gripping the gun firmly in the palm of your hand, you follow Derek through the back entry of the house. You weren’t even sure if it could even be counted as a ‘house’; the place looked like it had at least five bedrooms on both floors. Derek glances at you, signalling to be quiet, then another to keep your eyes on him. A quiet splashing in the pool alerts your attention, and despite his attempts of getting you to not look, you do. And as soon as you do, you really wish you hadn’t. 

You are met with the sight of Lila Archer in her bikini-clad glory, in the pool with Doctor Spencer Walter Reid. Doctor ‘pools are incredibly unhygienic, harbouring more than 50 million different types of bacteria’ Reid. And as if it couldn’t get any worse, you watch as their lips touch again and again, his hands cupping her face and her hands arms around his neck. 

Spencer pulls away from the kiss, his breath heavy and his head spinning. This is wrong. He’s not supposed to being do this. His brain is short circuiting and it’s even worse when he considers all the germs that could be in this pool. His head spins with the names of viruses and bacteria that could be festering in the waters he was currently in, and then he remembers he has more pressing matters to attend to. Namely the girl who was literally pressing her lips to his. 

He pulls away, stammering over responses. “We can’t– we shouldn’t. I’m a federal agent and you’re–”

Lila stares at him, amused, with her hands cupping his neck. “There��s no one here.”

“I’m supposed to be protecting you,” Spencer tries again, anxiety gnawing at his stomach. This is wrong. Unprofessional. Then his mind wanders to you and the nagging voice in the back of his mind urges him to do something. 

“There are police out front,” Lila says, kissing him again before continuing, “there are coyotes out back.”

“This is completely inappropriate,” Spencer stutters out, his hands reaching for her shoulders. Her skin is cold from the summer night’s breeze, even more so considering how they’re submerged in disgusting chlorine-filled pool water. 

“This?” She presses her lips to his once more. “What’s this?”

“This isn’t–” he swallows thickly, his cheeks flared. “No, there’s this thing called transference–”

Lila pulls away, her stare drifting from his eyes to his lips as she asks, “you don’t like me?”

Spencer blanches at the question. “What?”

“You don’t like me,” Lila repeats, more sure of herself now. “It’s because of her, right?”

He frowns at the insinuation. “‘Her’? Who’s ‘her’?”

“The other person on your team,” Lila says, her words bitter. “You like her don’t you?”

His mouth goes dry and he opens and closes it like a fish out of water. “What?”

“Let me change your mind,” she whispers, bringing her lips to his for the nth time. 

Spencer barely has time to react, his hands moving to the side of her face and he imagines that she’s you. But she’s not you and you would never kiss him in the middle of the pool. You would never pull him in by his tie and cut him off when he’s speaking. He pulls away. 

“Stop. Stop, Lila, I’m sorry, I have to– I have to tell you something.” His mind is blanking. Why is it that when he needs it, his brain shuts off?

“What?” Lila asks, her lips moving to his cheek and then to his jaw. 

“I didn’t want to tell you this before because I was a bit worried.” He’s screaming at himself in his head, kicking himself because ‘why the hell did he just say that?!’ Regardless of the way he wishes he could shut his mouth and run out of the pool, he continues, “I don’t know how to say it but I can’t not tell you.”

“What is it?” She finally pulls away and Spencer lets out a breath of relief.

The relief is short lived because he starts to blab, “Your manager, Michael–”

“What?”

“Gideon went to check on him but he got there too late.” Spencer thinks he’s going to hurl, his mind running a million times an hour and screaming, ‘No you idiot! No, no, no! Out of all the things you could say–’

Lila scrambles out of the pool, clearly distraught, and he reaches out to touch her arm… only to be swatted away with her sobbing and telling him not to touch her. He figures he deserves that and follows out of the pool after her. 

“How could you– how could you not tell me?” Lila demands, her tears mixing with the pool water already on her face. 

“I was afraid you’d be upset,” Spencer says lamely, water dripping from his trousers and he just wants a towel. 

“You– you knew what you knew and… how could you not…?” She’s on the verge of hyperventilating and she looks at him before looking away. 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says quietly, not knowing what else to say.

Lila retreats into her house, shutting the glass sliding door behind her and Spencer can only watch as she throws a pillow at the wall before going up the stairs to her room. He stands there, in the cold, dripping wet from the pool water and he wipes his face with his hand. His gun sits on the table, damp, and he has the urge to scream. Before he could do something exceedingly stupid, the sound of footsteps alert him and he spins around. 

“Elle?”

“We found him in the bushes,” she says to Spencer, nodding to the guy being cuffed by Derek. 

“I told her she should cut those.” He says dismissively, wiping his gun with a towel. He looks at her and then at you. He swallows thickly, noticing the way your eyes look him up and down, the disapproval oozing in your stare. “I– uh– I fell in.”

“Yeah,” you respond, holding the camera up and a sarcastic smile blossoms on your face. “I’m sure there are plenty of photos of it.”

He sighs, “(Y/N)–”

“Hey, stop shoving me, man!” Joe snaps as Derek pushes him to walk forward.

“You’re a suspect in the murder of Wally Melman, Natalie Ryan, and Jeremy Collins.”

You watch as Joe’s face comically contorts from annoyance to confusion as he jumps to defend himself. “Murder? What? Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”

“Just shut up with the ‘whoa’. We know for a fact that you have hundreds of photographs of Lila Archer and Natalie Ryan on the walls of your studio. You have Miss Archer’s daily schedule on your desk. You’ve been stalking her.”

“Look, guy, hold up. Every paparazzi’s a celebrity stalker,” Joe says and the rest of the group turn to look at him incredulously. He continues to speak undeterred. “If you don’t stalk them, you don’t get the shot, and if you don’t get the shot, you don’t sell no pictures.”

“Yeah, well this one’s gonna cost you,” you hum, holding the camera in your hands and ripping the film out despite his yells of defiance.

Derek steps forward, pushing Joe to keep him walking. “Tell it to your lawyer.”

“Wh– I’m still being locked up?”

“That’s right, at the very least you’re trespassing.”

Elle and Derek walk Joe out of the premises, and you push the pulverised film against Spencer’s chest. He grips it in his hands, a soft ‘oof’ leaving his lips at the contact. 

“You’re welcome,” you mutter, albeit a little bitterly, as you turn to follow the rest of your team out.

“(Y/N), listen, it didn’t mean anything,” he says softly, squeezing the film in his fist tightly while the other hand reaches out to you. 

You roll your eyes, opening up the sliding door. “I told you, Reid, I don’t care who you sleep with.”

He splutters a little, pushing his hair away from his face. “We didn’t– I didn’t– we didn’t sleep together, you know that.”

“Even more reason why I shouldn’t care.”

His hand grips onto your shoulder, turning you around so that you’re facing him. “But you do. ‘Shouldn’t’? You care. You clearly obviously care, (Y/N).”

“I don’t,” you deny, pushing his hand away. “Reid–”

“Stop calling me that.”

“–it doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I’m leaving.”

He grabs onto your arm, stopping your retreat. “Why are you being like this?”

“I am not ‘being like’ anything!”

“(Y/N).”

“Doctor, this is highly unprofessional.”

He has to stop the frustrated groan that was moments away from leaving his lips as he stares at you. His eyes ghost over your frame, stopping directly at the dark red splotches on your shirt.

“What happened?” He demands, taking a step closer. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“Who’s blood is that?”

“Detective Kim’s.”

“What– were you shot at?” 

His hands fly to your face, trembling and cold, and you would have thought it was romantic if he didn’t do the exact same thing less than twenty minutes ago with another girl. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you dismiss quietly. 

“Don’t say that.”

“God, you act as if we’re dating or something!” You snap, pulling away from him. 

He stops short, his cheeks and ears reddening at your words. His mind goes blank and suddenly he feels very warm at the idea. Dating you? Every moment he had with Lila in that pool is nothing compared to the idea of dating you.

He watches as you roll your eyes before tugging your arm out of his grip. He wants to cry out again, to say something, but his head just seems to repeat the words ‘we’re dating’ over and over again. 

“Just forget it, Reid.” You look to the house and your gaze grows steely once more. “Your girlfriend is calling.”

*** 

“I want to try and talk to some of Lila’s close friends,” you say to the others after getting off the phone with Garcia. “According to Penelope, there’s a girl named Maggie Lowe on the list that Lila gave us and they’ve known each other since college. Apparently, they spent a lot of time together and Lila helped her get a job.”

“I’ll go with you,” Elle says instantly, climbing into the car. “Why Maggie?”

You start the ignition, backing out of the driveway and onto the main road, following the GPS directions. “They spend almost all of their time together. I mean, she must have noticed something off, you know?”

Elle nods slowly in understanding. “She knows about the red anemones, right?”

“Yeah. And she was the one who found the note taped to the door.” You pause, thinking through the evidence again. “Her apartment is right in the middle of the comfort zone.”

“You think she could be the UnSub?”

“It all seems too convenient. But then again, we didn’t profile the stalker as a woman. There have got to be some inaccuracies or things we overlooked because of the gender,” you murmur, stopping at a red light. “Call Garcia for me.”

The phone rings once before Penelope’s unmistakable voice chimes through. “Speak my pretties, and you shall be heard!”

“Hey, Pen, can you check what vehicle is registered under Maggie Lowe’s name?” You ask into the speaker, parking in front of the apartment.

“Checking, checking… aha! It’s a Honda Motorcycle, she just got it serviced six and a half months ago.”

“That’s the vehicle that the UnSub was driving when they shot at us,” you mumble in realisation. “Call the others, the UnSub might be Maggie Lowe. We’re checking the apartment now.”

“Gideon and Derek are at the art gallery to talk to Parker Dunley,” Elle points out. “I’ll let them know we’re at her apartment.”

There’s a typing on the other side of the line and Penelope chimes in once more. “Bad news, my loves. The cameras report Lowe’s motorcycle leaving the apartment complex half an hour ago.”

“Garcia, call Reid and tell him what we know. Elle and I are going into the apartment. We might find evidence or clues on who the next victim might be.” 

With that, you hang up, getting out of the car and running up the stairs with Elle hot on your heels. 

“Maggie Lowe?” You call through the door, knocking once then twice. 

You’re met with silence and you grimace, deciding to do Derek’s favourite move: kicking the door down. With a crash, the door slams open and you grip your gun a little tighter in your hand. Bathroom, clear. Kitchen and pantry, clear. Lounge, clear. Bedroom, clear– you stop short. Pictures– framed pictures– of Lila hung around the wall. A cork board with newspaper clipping and magazine cut outs were pinned meticulously to the cork backing, each one with Lila’s face and name circled with bold red marker. 

“Holy shit…” Elle whispers, holstering her gun and staring at the wall. “This is… this is beyond obsession.”

“You’re telling me,” you respond, putting on a blue glove and flipping through the cork board. “Call the others, Maggie is definitely the UnSub. Someone this obsessed must have…” you pause, filing through the desk on the other side of the room, “… a diary. Each murder was described to detail in each entry, as well as her feelings towards Lila.”

Elle grimaces as she looks over your shoulder to read the diary entries. “Grim.”

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah.”

Above her desk are images of Lila. Every single show she’s been in since Julliard, every time she was mentioned in an article, posters, newspaper clippings of the murders… the entire ordeal makes you feel sick. 

Elle sucks in a breath, staring at the desk. “She’s got Lila’s entire life documented.”

“And she’s probably already at Lila’s house,” you mutter, grabbing your phone. “We need to get over there, now.”

*** 

“The city of angels everything you thought it would be?” Derek asks amusedly, leaning against the wall of the jet as he watches you pour your third cup of coffee in the past three hours. 

It’s a couple days after Maggie Lowe was apprehended and the team were on the jet home getting some much needed rest. The aircon was put on full blast and you couldn’t be more grateful for it, enjoying the coolness on your skin in contrast to the hot Los Angeles weather. 

“I’m never coming back here,” you quip, your gaze shifting to where Spencer sits. He’s reading a book but he hasn’t turned a page for the past thirty seconds. “If I were to overthrow America, Los Angeles is the first place to go.”

Derek snorts, his eyebrows raising. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” you huff, finally looking at him. “I’m serious!”

“Sure kid. Totally believe you.”

He’s teasing, a knowing smirk on his face as he watches you chug the coffee with a grimace. Your tongue burns and you fill the cup with water and chug that as well, ignoring the amused look Derek keeps sending you. From the corner of your eye you see Spencer reading his book. At least, it would appear that he was reading to someone who didn’t know him. But you know him. He’s been staring into the pages for the past minute now and that alone was enough to let you know that he was paying more attention to your and Derek’s conversation than to the words on the page. 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you sit beside Elle who is already fast asleep. You envy her for a moment as she leans against the plane window, blissfully unaware to your mental torment. Stupid Spencer and his stupidly pretty face. From where you’re sitting you can see the back of his head and you glare at that the ridiculous mop of brown on his head. 

The rest of the plane ride is uneventful and by the time you make it back to the office it’s already late. It’s nearing one in the morning and everyone begins to head home. Derek is yawning as he leaves the office and Elle has a look that screams ‘Don’t talk to me’. Gideon is long gone and Hotch was in his office, packing up the last of his papers and files. 

Spencer is sitting at his desk, combing through the paperwork and stashing a couple pages into his satchel. He bids farewell to Derek and the others before shoving his train pass into his pocket. 

“You’re taking the train?” You ask, finally speaking to him.

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he shifts on his feet, gripping the strap of his bag. “Um, yeah. I took the train here, so...”

“Oh.” You nod, glancing at the clock. “No you’re not.”

He huffs out a laugh. “What?”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you get onto a train at one in the morning,” you say, pointing with your chin to the elevator. “You might be a man and all, but it doesn’t change the statistics.”

You know his weakness. Statistics. Facts. Spencer hates the fact that you know him so well. 

He relents, getting into the elevator with you. “I thought you were mad at me.”

He hears you scoff, pressing B1 on the elevator. “Just because I’m mad at you, doesn’t mean that I’m going to let you do something potentially dangerous.”

He hates the way your words makes his heart flutter and he continues speak. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you did,” you respond curtly, watching as the elevator doors open. “Come on, my car is that way.”

Spencer flinches at your tone. “I’m sorry.”

You laugh. “You don’t even know what you’re sorry for.”

“I–” the words die on his tongue as he wracks his brain. “I thought it was because you didn’t like Lila.”

“That’s true,” you murmur, unlocking the car. “Look, Reid–”

“Please,” he cuts you off, his voice cracking as he practically begs. “Please stop calling me that.”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker to him as you tug the car door open. “You want me to stop calling you by your name?”

Spencer’s nostrils flare as he gets in the car. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

You laugh again as you start the engine, glancing at the mirrors. “Everyone calls you Reid. It shouldn’t be any different for me.”

He huffs. “But it is different. You’re… different.”

“How?” You challenge, backing out of the parking spot and getting onto the main road. You’ve memorised the route from Quantico to Spencer’s apartment in DC– an almost one hour drive and you understand why Spencer hates driving to and from work. 

He falters before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just please don’t call me by my last name again.”

“Spencer,” You try again, missing the visible relief in his eyes, “I’m not mad at you because of something as miniscule as a girl. You’re entitled to your own relationships outside of work.”

“I don’t under– oh.” The realisation dawns on him when he recalls all the words you threw at him at the precinct. “I wasn’t a very good friend, was I?”

“No, Spencer, you weren’t.” You don’t hesitate to say it and Spencer winces at how quickly you agree with him. “You were unfair and let your emotions get in the way of the case. You criticised me and undermined my authority and then you had the absolute nerve to act as if nothing was wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” he croaks out, the lump in his throat getting bigger. 

“It hurt, Spencer,” you say, and your voice cracks as well. “It hurt because you’re my best friend and I would have supported you through everything. You know that. And I get that friends fight, but I thought that we wouldn’t fight about something as stupid as who you hook up with.”

“I didn’t hook up with her,” Spencer says quietly, and he thinks he might cry. “I’m serious, (Y/N), I didn’t hook up with her. She kissed me–”

“It doesn’t matter.” Your gaze shifts to him for barely a second before it’s back on the road. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter who you’re attracted to. I just didn’t think it would effect our friendship.”

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says again, holding onto his bag. 

You’re quiet before continuing, “ I know you are. I know that. I’m sorry that you thought that you needed to justify your feelings to me.”

He swallows thickly, watching your face carefully. You didn’t do anything to make him feel like he had to justify himself. If anything, it was Spencer’s conscious that made him feel the need to explain himself. The guilt that he felt after kissing Lila was enough to get him to feel sick. The guilt that he felt after knowing how badly he hurt you was enough to make him want to grovel at your feet. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” He mumbles, wetting his bottom lip. “You had– have– every right to be upset.”

“I don’t want to be upset anymore,” You say as you continue to drive down the freeway. 

He’s quiet before he finally says, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

He swallows the lump in his throat and he presses the pads of his fingers into the corner of his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

You finally park in front of his apartment, leaning against the chair. “I know. I know, I’m sorry too. I said… a lot of things.”

“I deserved it,” he says, a small laugh leaving his lips as he finally looks at you. “You’re right, I wasn’t being fair.”

You hum, leaning over the console to give him an awkward hug. He presses his nose into your shoulder, breathing in your vanilla perfume. His arms wrap around your middle and he realises how much he missed this. How he missed being close to you. 

“I won’t do it again,” he promises. 

“I know.”

“I really am sorry.”

“You need to stop apologising.” Your words come out like a laugh and he realises how much he misses that sound too.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says into your shoulder. “Coffees for a month. I’ll even get you those croissants you like, even though they’re really overpriced.”

You laugh again and he smiles. 

“You apologising is already good enough,” You say, squeezing his arms. “Now go get some rest, Spence.”

His smile widens at the nickname and he finally pulls away. “Good night. Thank you for driving me home.”

You smile back. “Good night. Don’t mention it.”

The next morning, you find a steaming coffee on your desk and a freshly baked croissant in a brown paper bag. Spencer waves at you and you can’t help the goofy grin on your face as you take a bite into the croissant. 

next part →

full work

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[reiderwriter]

hii I absolutely love your writing!! I was wondering if you could write a one shot with gun kink? maybe not really something *aggressive* but just gun kink in the plot !! and please smut with no angst, also maybe aftercare in the end? it's totally okay if you're not comfortable. im loving your kinktober one shots! have a good day :)

A/N: This being one of like... three gun kink requests I've received, we are all not seeing the pearly gates lmao. If you enjoy reading this, even 50% of how much I enjoyed writing it, then I'm happy 😚

Warnings: Undercover FBI Agent reader, gun kink, interrogation room sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, some BDSM themes, Spencer has to 'rough up' the reader etc.

Masterlist

Being rough-housed by a group of FBI agents and pushed against a wall before being handcuffed was never your idea of a fun Tuesday night. It wasn't exactly high on the list for any night of the week, really, but here you were. 

“Caitlyn Grant? You're under arrest for being an accessory to a felony and evading law enforcement, whatever you say…” You drowned out the rest of the statement. It was nothing you didn't have memorized. 

“You're not the usual drug crew, and you don't look sturdy enough to be on most of the other teams either. What part of the Bureau are you in?” You asked the lanky man currently pinning you to the wall as he made sure your handcuffs were aptly tight. 

“You have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford one-” 

“I waive my rights. It's not human trafficking. You wouldn't be working this case if you were human trafficking.” 

The man just stared at you in vague disapproval as you grinned back at him. His closeness meant you could see every detail of his face up close, the five o'clock shadow, the dark circles from lack of sleep. On most of the agents you'd encountered, it had the effect of making them look older, a little haggard, and depressed. On this man, it was honestly very hot. 

He started your pat down by spreading your legs, though honestly, if he'd asked nicely enough, you'd have done just that for him. You near enough told him just that as he reached the two pockets on the ass of your jeans. 

“Watch it, Agent, my bite is worse than my bark.” 

“Turn around.” 

You pouted at his solid resolve, wondering what it would take to get the man to crack a smile or even a frown. Something that wasn't just disinterest slapped on a face and called a day. 

You did as he asked, making sure your body pressed nicely up against his the entire way until your shoulders were resting on the wall and he was feeling along your waist. 

“Come on, what kind of weapon are you going to find there?”

“Standard protocol, please let me do my job.”

“Standard protocol is calling one of your female agents over here to maintain the boundary, Agent. This feels more like you're just trying to cop a feel.” 

Those words finally got a reaction. The subtle clench of the jaw as his hands tightened slightly on your waist had you suddenly regretting your decision to be put in handcuffs. Your hands should've been free to tuck the stray lock of hair that had fallen in his eyes behind his ear, free so your fingernails could trace a path down his face and neck and chest. 

His gaze landed on the simple silver chain you wore around your list and he delicately pulled it out of your shirt, careful not to touch you (and avoiding you even as you arched your back into him). 

With a quick tug, he pulled the necklace clean off your neck, not pausing to bother with the clasp at all. 

“Clever boy. I'll see you in the interrogation room, shall I?” He said nothing as the female agents you'd mentioned earlier stationed themselves on either side of you as you walked away. You didn't break eye contact until the doors to the police van closed behind you. 

Six months undercover on a case, and this was the first time you'd stepped foot in a police precinct since you'd ditched your real name and life. 

The interrogation rooms hadn't changed in that time, at least, still grey and depressing. Time felt void as you waited for company, and thankfully, you weren't waiting long.

“Agent Y/N, sorry about the arrest, we wanted to make it look as real as possible while pulling you out.” The woman who greeted you obviously held the authority, and while you wanted to respect that, the sight of the man trailing behind her actually caught her full attention. 

“Pleasure to meet you….?” You let the question hang open for both of them but kept your gaze fully focused on the man, who stood himself next to the door, keeping surprisingly quiet. 

“I'm Unit Chief Emily Prentiss, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, we're from the-” 

“Behavioural Analysis Unit, of course. I was close, you know, earlier. A face like yours wouldn't last five minutes in cartel land. I almost guessed cyber, but you looked a bit too bookish. Doctor Reid, hmm.” 

“This interview is taking place with Agent Prentiss. Please direct all your questions to her.”

“Oh shit, sorry, where are my manners. I didn't mean to disrespect you like that, Agent Prentiss. It's just been a long few months.”

The other woman just chuckled and shook her head, leafing through some documents to pass you over the information on the case they needed assistance on. 

“We think there's a serial killer in the drug ring you infiltrated,” the woman explained, passing over the files with the case details. You took a moment's breath before opening to the crime scene photos, steeling yourself for what you might encounter. 

“There are probably a lot of serials in the organization. It's a drug ring. What makes this one worse?” You said, just as you flipped the file open and answered your own question. 

“Shit- Okay, that's what makes this one worse. He can't be more than 15, right?” 

The answering grimace on the two agents' faces suggested you'd been generous in your estimate. “Okay, how can I help?” 

xxxxx 

A few hours passed in the interrogation room, and you'd walked them through all of your up to date information on your case and cover. The chair wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were glad to be finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. The interview was ending, and you could see an end to your undercover work swiftly following too with the BAU's assistance. 

You weren't looking forward to having to acclimatize back into the real world. You'd gone from pushing papers at a desk 9 hours a day to rubbing shoulders with drug dealers and junkies, a lot of whom were kids, young people like you who had no other options than the streets and crime. 

You made a mental note to give a few warnings to the younger kids on the streets to stay alert and then started getting back into character. 

“Thanks again for your help, Agent. We appreciate your time.” Prentiss nodded at you as she gathered the folders, getting ready to leave. 

Spencer Reid stood, too, stretching himself out as he rose from the chair, giving you quite the show as your eyes dragged from his face, down his chest and down further still as you appreciated the view. 

The last few hours had been strictly professional, and you'd enjoyed bouncing ideas off of him, running through theories. Now, trying to get back into your ‘lusty barmaid’ persona, you thought instead about how much you'd like to bounce on him yourself, possibly while running your hands through his hair. 

A girl could dream. 

“Hold on a second, I'm still in cover, I can't go back out there looking this pristine, it's too suspicious,” you said, the two agents turning back to you curiously. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Someone needs to throw me around a little. Rough housing, you know, a few bruises will do it.” 

Prentiss looked at you, caught halfway between impressed and amused. The good Doctor however seemed to darken slightly, covering his shock with a tensed jaw. 

“She's all yours, Spencer,” Wmily winked at the man, turning the door handle and beginning her exit.

“What? Why?” 

“I don't hit women.” 

“And I do? Emily, wha-” 

But the door to the interrogation room has already closed with a small cackle, and you're already being drawn closer to the man like a moth to a flame. 

Turning to face you, you see the shock of the situation on his face before he looks away in a flash, refusing to meet your eyes as he keeps himself close to the door. 

“Doctor Reid, I'm not actually a criminal, you know?” 

“I thought you wanted one of us to treat you like a criminal now.” 

“You make a good point, shall we begin?” 

He signed and rubbed his temples as you advanced, letting you get a little bit closer before holding his hands up in surrender. 

“Wait, wait, tell me first, what should we be doing?” 

You took a deep breath and expelled it, then took the time to think about it. 

You would need some visible marks of the FBI's unkindness - wrists red, a bruise or two on your knees, maybe, from falling. The problem was, you couldn't think about how to get the marks without driving yourself insane. 

There was a quick and easy way to get tender knees, an even easier way to mark up your neck and chest, but you couldn't figure out how to ask Spencer Reid to do those things without spreading your legs and letting him do whatever he wanted. You weren't sure you wouldn't do that eventually, anyway.

“Let's start with my wrists. You were too generous with the handcuffs earlier - just grab them really tight, pin me against the wall if it helps.”

He nodded and took a hesitant step towards you, thinking for a second, before grabbing one wrist and spinning you around. Before you could even process the action, he had you pinned, chest against the wall, arms above your head. 

“Is that okay?” He asked, his grip tight  but not bruising yet. 

“A little tighter, I want the marks to last a while. Why is my face against the wall?” 

He gripped tighter, the pain sending a jolt through your wrists that trailed all the way down to pool between your thighs. 

“I thought you'd be less uncomfortable like this.” 

“With your dick pushed up against my ass? Yes, Doctor, great decision.” 

He let out a cold, quick laugh, leaving you flushed as he pushed your upper body into the wall, too, finally getting to the grip strength he needed to get attention. 

“I'm sorry to disappoint, Y/N, but that's my gun,” the words whispered in your ear were the last straw as you shuddered in his grasp, his hands releasing your wrists as he stepped back a little. 

You shook out your hands a little, trying to momentarily relive the stiffness in your joints. 

He took a few paces to the desk and upholstered his weapon, placing it on the desk before joining you again. 

“So you don't get confused again,” he explained at seeing your raised eyebrow. 

“Oh so next time, it will be your dick?” You whispered, moving back to the desk and sitting yourself on the edge or it, picking up the gun and studying it for a few minutes. 

“Y/N, put it down.” 

“Ooh, possessive, are we?” You giggled, aiming it at him for a second before grabbing it by the barrel and holding it back out for him to grab. 

“Hold it, point it at me or whatever. Maybe it'll help you rough me up.” 

His brow furrowed, but he grabbed it anyway, not immediately slipping it into the holster as he stepped forward. 

“What now?” He asked, and you shrugged. 

“Whatever feels natural. And looks visible, I guess.”

It took him a few minutes to decide, surveying your body like it was a puzzle. Professionally, of course. You were about to speak up and urge him to get on with it when his hand shot out and wrapped around your throat. 

You tried to gasp, but the grip was firm, and boy, was it driving you crazy. Your legs had naturally parted as you sat yourself on the edge of the desk, and he walked into that space now, his free hand still holding the gun. 

Your body pushed forward into his, suddenly awash with arousal as your chest heaved with tiny breaths, lungs burning. 

“Are you enjoying this, Y/N? Or is it Caitlyn Grant that's enjoying this?” 

You felt the gun touch your thigh gently, and you moaned, just as he softened his grip on your throat. 

“Answer me, please. This is an interrogation room, after all.”

You met his eyes, checking to see how far he would take this, how far you could push back. 

“I'll admit, I'm not against mixing pain and pleasure.” 

His gaze flicked down, slowly pushing his gun up the skin of your thigh, raising your skirt with the barrel to catch a quick glimpse of your panties. 

“I can tell.” 

If it weren't for his grip on you, you'd have lunged for him right then and there. The cool metal against your thigh had you shuddering against him, growing wetter by the minute. 

“I read somewhere once that we can't pretend to be someone else without actually becoming them in some small way. You've been a cartel whore for six months, I wonder if this is a lasting effect.” 

He was so close now all he needed to do to close the gap was change the angle of his head, but he kept you in place with that gun, pointing up from your pussy, flush against your stomach. 

“I'll tell you a secret - the part of me that's aroused right now definitely predates this cover.” 

His lips drop to yours, tongue clashing with yours furiously as he grabs the back of your head to angle you better. 

Letting his hand drop back to your thigh, he gently coaxed you further open, skirt riding up. Putting down the gym momentarily, he pressed a wandering finger against your pantie-clad pussy, feeling your arousal before he used it to coat his fingers. 

A second later and the offending pair of underwear lay discarded on the floor. 

“Fuck, Spencer,” you said, gasping for breath as he again picked up the gun. 

“You wanted this so badly, didn't you? You've been needing someone to treat you like this for months now. It didn't even have to be me.” 

He traced circles on your thigh with the gun, and you twitched, years of training not letting you relax around the weapon and months of sexual frustration, making you desperate for something to touch you. 

“Yes, yes, please touch me.” 

The hand at your throat slid down to your chest and pushed gently  urging you to lie back and let him do whatever he wanted with you. The desk was cold - metal biting at your bare skin - and it only sent more shivers down your spine as he lowered himself to his knees and parted your legs for his tongue. 

The first touch was heaven, a state of bliss you'd been without in what felt like forever. His tongue danced across your folds as he tasted every inch of your exposed cunt, grip still strong on the gun pointed now to your chest, pinning you between the machine and the table. 

You tried to be as still as possible, to take the pleasure he gave calmly, but you couldn't. You writhed, moaned, chest heaving as you tried to hold off the first orgasm you'd achieved with someone else in probably a year.  

Like a man on a mission, Spencer Reid did not care. He gladly suffocated between your thighs as you squeezed them together, wrapping them around his head so you could keep feeling the insurmountable pleasure of his tongue on your pussy. 

“Spencer…Spencer, fuck-” you said as he finally pried your legs apart, lifting them just slightly so his tongue could reach further inside of you, curling with each wave of passion. Your hands fisted his hair, desperate for something to ground you to the moment as your pleasure spilt out of you, orgasm jolting through you in tiny sparks of pleasure. 

The gun moved first, coming level with your chest as you untangled your fingers from his hair. Spencer stood, wiping his face with the back of his hand as he kept the gun on you. 

“I think this turns you on even more. You've been ruined by this cover, Y/N, you're so used to being in danger that you can't even get off without someone threatening you.” 

You attempted to scoff, to brush off his words somehow, but his hand was suddenly back around your throat, picking you up off the desk and pulling you instead towards the room's one-way window. 

“Look at yourself,” he said, again twisting you around so you were pressed into the wall, wrists above your hair, raising your shirt to expose the cold skin underneath. He ran the barrel across the fresh skin, leaving a field of goosebumps along his path. 

“I don't think it would've mattered who came in to rough you up. I think you'd just as happily have convinced Emily to fuck your little pussy raw, right Y/N? As long as there was a gun…” 

Your moan was the only response as he used the weapon to spread your legs. You naturally arched your back and kept your hands in place as he holstered the weapon momentarily to unzip his pants and let his cock free. 

You couldn't see it, but you saw his reflection in the mirror as he slowly stretched you out with it, mouth dropping in a lustful ‘o’ as he fed his dick to you, hard and thick. 

As soon as it was in, the gun came back out, this time to rest against your temple. 

“Get yourself off,” his voice was so low it was practically a growl. “Use my cock, and pleasure yourself.” 

Your body listened immediately, beginning to move back and forth on his cock as he held himself in place. His moans and groans were all the encouragements you needed, the gun at your temple was just made the pleasure more profound as you approached your release. 

But he kept you pinned to the glass, your full range of motion limited, and you whimpered in frustration that you couldn't feel every inch of him. 

“If you need something, use your words, Agent.” 

“More, need more, please..please,” you gasped, breathing ragged. 

The hands at your wrists released, and he fisted a hand into the flesh at your hip, your wrists resting on the glass next to your face as he took over your thrusting. 

“Can't even do this anymore, what a spoiled little whore,” he said as his hips began snapping into you, reaching that spot deep inside you as you drooled against the glass, wondering if anyone had just happened to step into that room and what they must think about you. 

“Cum for me, Y/N. Cum on my cock,” he said it, and entranced, your body did just that, your orgasm taking the last breath of strength you had as he too plunged himself deeper and stilled there, his cum coating your walls. 

Neither of you moved for an eternity, but the first sign of clarity returning was the careful return of the gun to the holster. 

Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Spencer minimized the mess you made together, cleaning you up as he slipped out of you. Discarding it momentarily on the floor, he pulled your clothes back into position and led you back over to the chairs. Just as he moved to sit you down, though, you turned and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug. 

His arms hung suspended for a minute or two before he let them rest on your back, stroking your hair. 

“Sorry, it's been… it's been lonely, and I didn't realize how hard it had been until-” 

“It's okay. Take your time,” he said, sitting down in the chair and letting you curl up in his lap, burying your head in his neck

“We’ll catch this guy, and then you're out, okay Y/N? We'll come back and get you out soon.” 

Lifting your eyes to his, you nodded, pressing your lips to his with a smile as you again worked yourself back into character, regaining your earlier composure and lifting yourself from the man's too comfortable arms. 

“Well, Spencer, what do you say we get me back into panties and handcuffs and cut Caitlyn Grant loose?” 

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

[swordsandholly]

Across The Way

Ch. 2: And So It Begins

Retired!Ghoap x fem!plus size!Reader

MDNI

Ao3 | Previous - Next

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.

A/N: I got this out a lot faster than I thought I would. Hopefully my work doesn’t get too insane and I can get the next out in a timely manner - it’s going to be a bigger one!

“You were right.” Simon carefully cuts through the loaf with a serrated knife. He’s never lost his skill with them, despite their uses becoming increasingly more domestic over the years. It’s charming, in a way - the juxtaposition of where they started and where they are now.

“Right about whit?” Johnny asks.

“She is a pretty little thing.”

“Donnae tell me I need tae be worried about ye sneakin’ off at work.” He jokes. Simon would never, of course, but it’s fun to see the way his cheeks heat up at the implication. Without his mask he wears every expression with reckless abandon.

Simon settles his large frame into the seat across from Johnny at the dining table. It’s small, they don’t need much. The chairs always creak under Simon’s weight in an almost threatening fashion. He pushes a plate with two pieces of the bread and some eggs over to Johnny. There’s an odd tug in his chest when he picks up the slice - an urge to be gentle as he spreads butter over it. Gentility is not a compulsion he feels often.

“S’good.” Simon mutters around his bite.

Johnny nods along after taking one himself. There’s love in it - he can tell. A piece carefully crafted with only absolute perfection in mind. How strange that food can carry such a feeling.

“Was a wee bit worried we’d be stuck across from the nicest, worst baker in the world.” He mutters.

Simon huffs out a half laugh.

~~~

Your first week goes by in a blur. For a small town they sure do manage to keep you busy. It’s good, you remind yourself. Better than none. If you keep it up at this rate you’ll be able to hire help by the end of the summer quarter.

By Monday, the first day of your “weekend”, you’re overdone. Head dizzy and body exhausted, you spend the day in bed. It’s a gratifying exhaustion, one you hope to build more of a tolerance for. As of now, though, you elect to remain deeply buried under the covers.

When you wake for a second time the sun is already near setting again. The entirety of Monday slunk by with you in bed. You grumble to yourself angrily like an old man. You wanted to unpack today - to at least get your clothes and kitchen items put away.

“Stupid.” You grouse. At least you still have time to shower, you suppose.

As you stand the world blacks out for a moment, your body swaying in place. You allow yourself to fall back on the bed, sitting while your vision slowly comes back into focus. Blinking away black dots and off squiggles that dance across your eyes. On attempt number two you manage it, making your way to the bathroom.

The work is worth it. The pain is worth it.

This is what you always wanted, after all.

You are happy. You can feel it in your bones. They’re lighter than they used to be - your whole body thrums with excited energy even as you have to lower yourself with the upmost care into the shower seat. Even as you have to scrape one of the cheap fold out chairs you managed to get over to the stove while you cook a late night dinner. Thank god for low counters.

When you were arranging your schedule it took a while to get it perfected. To compensate for your body you have to have time to rest and be able to do a lot of baking preparation before the work week starts. Monday and Tuesday are for rest. Wednesdays are for prep. The shop is closed but you’re in the back working your ass off mixing and kneading and shaping doughs. As well as practicing new recipes you want to add to the store’s line up eventually. Your goal is to sell American biscuits, preferably in batches of six, but those take a lot of work and don’t keep as long. They’ll have to wait until you have hired help.

It’s all chance and whatever you can manage to make happen. You learned to be okay with that, though.

You’ve got plenty of spoons, you tell yourself. Just need to use them wisely.

When you finally close the fridge, now fully stocked with dough ready to proof and bake, you check the clock. It’s still the early afternoon. You finished sooner than you assumed you might. The thought makes you giddy - makes you feel accomplished.

It makes you feel normal.

As you exit into the warm spring sun you take a moment. Ever since you arrived you haven’t been able to just stop. To just take everything in - let the foreign air fill your lungs and the aura of the town sink into your bones.

It’s a lovely little main street that you’re located on. The building to your left is a large family owned pharmacy (very convenient for you) and to your right is an empty brick building. It looks like a former post office, but from what you know the current post office is a few blocks down beside the grocers. It’s quaint, the lot of it.

Your eyes settle on the shop across from yours housed in a simple brick building painted white. The upstairs is an apartment much like yours, you think, but from what you know it currently remains empty. The sign above the door reads A Cut Above the Rest. You wonder if that was Simon or Johnny’s doing.

Would it be weird to go in? You suppose not, after all they came to yours. It’s only fair you give them some patronage as well. Plus you need to ask how the bread was. Hopefully they liked it - you realized halfway through the night that you didn’t even ask if they like sourdough before shoving it into their hands.

That thought kept you up later than you’d like to admit.

You look both ways down the street. This particular spot doesn’t have a crosswalk but the road is so dead even when the downtown is busy you figure it’s worth risking. The lack of danger doesn’t stop you from fast-walking across, though.

The shop’s old-fashioned door bell chimes prettily as you push it open. For a butcher it smells extremely clean - almost clinical. It’s small, with an L shaped display counter and a register at the end nearest the door. Packages of sausage links and the like hang on displays across the back wall. Beside the wooden saloon doors that lead behind the counter is a little dog bed with a very well crafted name plate reading Riley hanging right above it.

So cute.

“Afternoon.” Simon appears from the back, wiping his hands on a rag. You jump a little, so lost in taking in your surroundings you forgot what you came here for.

“H-hi!” You smile. You forgot how intimidating Simon is. His gaze levels you - pins you underneath him like a fly under a swatter. Maybe that’s a bit dramatic. “I thought I’d come check your shop out and ask how the bread was?”

“It was good.” He replies bluntly. Totally monotone. The corners of his eyes crinkle ever so slightly. You decide that’s it’s a smile - whether that’s the reality of his expression or not.

“It’s really nice in here.” You look around. There isn’t much for decoration. The walls are too covered in menus and diagrams of cuts to leave room for anything extra. There’s a shelf of odds and ends opposite the main counter full of high end mustards and condiments. Little things to go with whatever you could think to make out of the varieties of meat they offer.

“Thanks.” Simon nods. “One moment.”

You watch with curiosity and a slight frown as he makes his way into the back. He almost has to duck under the doorway. Old buildings with low ceilings and all that. The place definitely wasn’t made with a six foot plus behemoth in mind. You continue to look around, rocking back and forth on your heels. They have a perfect score on their inspectors plaque. You might not know Simon well, but he seems the type to be absolutely precise about everything. The score doesn’t surprise you.

Yours is almost perfect - some rules are different here than in the US. Next time, you swear you’ll get it top notch! You look across the street at your shop. You wonder if you made the wrong choice with The Honey Bun. It’s bit much now that you see it from afar but it still makes you smile. That’s what matters, you guess.

Simon comes back out with a small, nicely wrapped package. “You don’t ‘ave any dietary restrictions d’you?”

You shake your head and he pushes the package toward you. Your eyes widen - it’s a great cut of high end beef. Like, really good beef as far as you know. Something you’d never be able to afford even if your business wasn’t brand new. You stare between Simon and the little pack in your hands. “Th-this is so nice but I-“

“It’s only fair.” He cuts you off. “Neighbors, yeah?”

You can’t help the grin that splits your face, eyes misting up despite yourself. Kindness has not been a constant in your life - more of a rarity. Something you had to claw and fight to earn. Being given it so freely but such a taciturn man has you reeling just a bit.

“Thank you… I’ve got to head back but, uh, thank you. Really.” You press the small package to your chest. “Tell Johnny I said hi?”

“Course.” He nods.

“Thanks again!” You grin, giving a little two finger salute before practically skipping all the way back into your dingy little apartment. Happily, you pack away the meat to use later. It’s too nice to just make any dish out of - best to save it for a special occasion. Your first gift in your new life. Best to savor it.

~~~

“Afternoon, bonnie.” Johnny appears in your doorway while you sweep up from the Saturday rush, bell chiming upon his entrance. “Hope I’m not a bother.”

“Not at all.” You smile, resting the broom on the counter. “Hello to you as well, Miss Riley.”

She huffs out a quiet bark in reply, sitting dutifully at Johnny’s feet. You don’t have much experience with service dogs - other than the well known rule not to pet them while they’re working. They were always too expensive for you to get and your condition wasn’t labeled serious enough to warrant financial aid. (Despite the fact that you can, and have, passed out and hit your head on something hard.)

“Can I get you something?” You ask.

“Och, I’m a’right. Just wanted tae stop by an’ say hello before headin’ home.” He gives you that dashing, bright grin. “Simon always kicks me out of the shop at close.”

“He doesn’t need help?” You ask. Surely cleaning up a butchers shop is a huge task. You have your work cut out for you with all the flower - you can’t imagine cleaning that amount of blood and mess.

Johnny shrugs. “The cleaning chemicals trigger my migraines.”

You hum. “Well, you’re always welcome to stop by. Actually,” you turn on your heel, “I’ve got somethin’ I’d like you to try, if you want.”

“Never one to say no to food. Especially from a pretty girl.” Johnny says as he follows. He tells Riley to stay in front and she listens - the perfect little lady that she is. You nearly trip at his comment, keeping your back turned so that he hopefully doesn’t see the heat spreading from your face and down your neck.

“I-it’s, uh, you ever had American biscuits?” You ask, praying he doesn’t notice the shake in your voice. You have to get on your tip toes to reach the small basket you made the day prior - carefully lowering it and pulling back the gingham cloth you wrapped them in.

An image of home.

“Aye, had them once on a layover at some chain diner.” He nods. “Donnae think they were fresh, though.”

“Well these are proper biscuits.” You carefully cut one in half with ease. “Sometime I’ll have to make you some gravy to go with.”

“Yer gonnae make us fat, hen.” Johnny chuckles.

“There are worse things to be.” The words come out more defensive than you would have liked. An automatic mechanism - a harshness you've honed over the years.

You hate how easily you wield it, sometimes.

Johnny leans forward over the table, a furrow in his brow. “I dinnae mean-“

“Here.” You cut him off and hold out the biscuit on a napkin, smothered with butter in the middle.

Johnny lets your interruption go. Probably happy for an out. He takes the fluffy baked good slowly, cupping it in his large hand with care. You wonder if he always does that, touches things with such gentle love. Is it learned? Is it just natural to him? Does he touch Simon like that? Gentle caresses?

What’s that like?

Johnny takes a massive, enthusiastic bite. Somehow his blue eyes manage to sparkle even more, grinning as he chews. “Sh’gew!”

You laugh at his attempt to talk around the food. “Glad you like it.”

He swallows roughly. A full body gulp. “Why’d ye start bakin’ anyway?”

“My grandparents raised me.” You fold the biscuits back up in their little basket. “My grandma taught me how. She was the best in town - won the pie contest almost every year.”

“Tha’s lovely.” The smile he gives you is so genuine it makes your chest constrict.

“Mean old bat but she could beat anyone in the kitchen.” You laugh. “We swore she had some kinda magic. Like a green thumb but for cooking.”

“My mum’s like tha’. Can make anythin’ out of nothin’.” He nods along.

You fall into an easy back and forth - never breaching anything deeper than the most surface level of content as he eats. It’s manageable. Johnny doesn’t push and neither do you.

Riley barks from the front of the shop.

“Och, tha’s my queue.” Johnny brushes off his hands and checks the front of his shirt for crumbs. “Take care, aye?”

You smile. “You too.”

~~~

Johnny’s words keep ringing in your ears. You don’t know why. It’s nothing special. There’s no reason to attach to them. You raise a hand to wipe off the fog and stare in the small mirror hung above your bathroom sink.

Pretty girl.

You scoff. You’re not a pretty girl. You’ve never been a pretty girl. Fat girl. Stupid girl. Sick girl. Tired girl. Sad girl.

That last one you’ve heard more than anything else. Out of all the descriptors of you it stands out as the most used. By everyone from teachers to your own family. Always just a sad, sad girl.

You got it from your mom, they’d say. It’s not like you would ever know.

You rip your eyes away from the mirror and try to let the thoughts melt away as you sink into the comfort of your blankets. Those thoughts live back on the other side of the Atlantic. They don’t get to follow you here.

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #ghost cod #cod x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #ghost x reader #cod #ghoap x reader #ghoap #ghostsoap #plus size reader #fat reader #reader insert #slow burn #reader has pots #soapghost x reader #johnny soap mactavish #simon x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #I’m so pumped for the next chapter you have no fucking clue babes

[walpu]

[Kicks down door. Gets in. Fixes the door. Sits down and puts this on the table]

Aventurine x Halovian!reader, your honor.

Halovians, stars and icons across the universe. Shrewd, charismatic, and few can peer past their mysterious and elegant smiles. Not to mention the radiating frequencies of their halo can convey the nature of their thoughts in the form of telepathy.

Tldr: Aventurine can't decipher what's on their mind for shit unless they convey so.

Such beauty, such grace, but they will be a lost finch like it's another Tuesday. Despite the common knowledge that Halovians are stars and icons across the universe, they're more... Free and out in the wild (no responsibility to serve The Family, travels the cosmos alone, etc etc) and is unafraid to convey their emotions in another way.

Their wings would brush his face for giggles. When agitated they'd plop their head on a table and flap their wings, tapping the table rapidly, same goes with happiness. Although shrewd, and won't let anyone sense their true feelings they'd cup his face and give him smooches. Asking how's his day? Anything new happening? They brought something and he might've like it because it reminded them of him.

Their heart would sing with joy and mourn with his sadness. What did he do to score an angel such as them?

(Hmmm, cheese-)

- 🪽

I'm a blind rat and at first I misread Halovian as Heliobus and was like huh okay it's something to think about actually 😭

I really like the idea, it was fun to write!

Aventurine x Halovian!reader

characters - Aventurine

notes - gn!reader, fluffy, a bit of a hurt/comfort, no beta

Okay first of all since Halovians quite literally can translate their thoughts and feelings to someone, not to mention how shrewd they are, I feel like Aven would have hard time relaxing around you at first. He is used to be the one who can see through people while hiding behind the nonchalant mask. And now not only he's the one being read like an open book, he also can't decipher you.

It's sort of a challenge for him at first. He learns to see even the smallest changes in the way you act, how your voice trembles ever so slightly, how your wings flap adorably when you experience intense emotions. He doesn't notice when he starts observing you not out of desire to protect himself but out of curiosity and then out of adoration.

Man he falls hard.

There's just something so precious to him how you never use your abilities against him. Yes it's a bare minimum but it's still something special to him okay.

He would absolutely adore your wings. Wouldn't touch them without your permission of course, but once he knows you're comfortable with this he always tries to caress them in some ways.

Would try to spread them carefully to admire them.

If you don't take offense in being compared to birds, he would give you some bird-relared nickname.

Someone on twitter pointed out that female Halovians have bigger wings but smaller hallows and it's the opposite for the male Halovians.

So he would pick a bird to nickname you after depending in the size of your wings lol

And if you think it would be some cute bird, then, well, you're not wrong, it's usually something endearing BUT he would NOT hesitate to call you his pigeon or pelican when he feels like teasing you.

While Aventurine never hides his origin and is, sadly, used to people's comments about him being an Avgin, it would still hit very differently when people would whisper about you, a Halovian, being with an Avgin. He usually doesn't say anything about it, just hiding behind his smile. Even if the mask cracks, showing obvious discomfort. Remember the face he made when Ratio brought up his origin? Yeah, this.

Please shut everyone up. Doesn't matter if you give them an unsettling biblically accurate angel looking ass smile and tell them to Be Quite or if you straight up tell them to stfu, just let Aven see that you are willing to defend him and your relationship.

Reassure him too. He will laugh softly and tell you that you worry too much, that he knows you love him, but he would still treasure your words.

Okay back to positive stuff, he would help you to groom your wings!!! Would learn all about it too. Please compliment his needy ass on his wing-grooming skills, he didn't sleep for the whole night trying to learn how to do it correctly.

Be ready for a lot of silly questions he asks just to pester you and get your attention.

"darling, my darling, and what would happen if you'd throw your hallow as a frisbee? would it come back?" "it's sharp enough to cut through rock, Aven". "ohhh, pretty but deadly, just how I like it~"

Adores it when you tickle his face with your wings, he always leans into the caress with the expression of a spoiled lapcat.

Would find it funny if you'd use your telepathy for silly things. Like he takes you to some business meeting with him or, on the country, you take him somewhere with you, and it's just boring as hell. So you sit there, smile mysteriously, all while telepathically whinig to Aventurine how this place sucks and how you hate all those people. It takes a lot for him not to laugh.

If you flap your wings during kisses then it's the end of him I fear.

#Hsr #honkai star rail #walp's writing #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine #reader insert

[strangermarvelss]

all of the girls you loved before- e.m

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: the one where eddie runs into his first love, leaving you to question your relationship in the aftermath. loosely based on the taylor swift song with the same title.

Warnings: angst, crying, jealousy, insecurity, eddie being rude unintentionally, cursing, pda (gross), eddie and reader are a few years out of high school, fluff, happy ending

Word Count: 4.8k

Request?: No

A/N: hello again everyone, its been a minute! since i’ve been gone, i’ve entered my swiftie era (not like crazy obsessed but def a fan of the music) and this gem of a song dropped and plucked some inspiration from me, so here is a new one shot for you all! enjoy! -sava

The haze within the hot open room of the Hideout was starting to dissipate, the crowd exiting the venue one by one as the band you’ve been cheering on from your spot at the bar begins clearing the stage of their equipment. The ringing in your ears has yet to go away, getting so lost in the metal music that you didn’t care if it would bite you in the ass at work tomorrow, you’d find a way to take customers orders at the diner, even if they had to scream in order for you to understand. 

You found yourself sitting at the same spot at the Hideout every Tuesday night to cheer your boyfriend and his band members on. Within the years since graduating high school, the town you called home started coming around to the type of music your boyfriend played, despite ridiculing him for years prior to their own revelations. With the new popularity, Tuesday nights at the Hideout have gone from 5 drunks sitting in the back to almost a packed house every week, begging for encores and autographs at the end of each show. It made you happy seeing your boyfriend celebrated in such a way, having been there for him in his lowest points when the tables were turned. Now you bask in his glory like never before, cheering him on alongside the rest of the town.

Paying your tab, you begin walking towards the back stage area when you see a tall lanky man with long luscious curls make his way over to you, his smile wide as his signature dimples poked into the sides of his cheeks. He extends his arms wide, not caring if he gets in anyones way as he greets you. Taking off in a run, you launch yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he catches you, hands making contact with your ass in a not-so-subtle way. You pull away and look at him momentarily before pressing your lips to his.

You take in his scent as your mouths move together as one, the sweaty smell that was no match for masking with his cheap cologne filling your nostrils, but you didn’t mind one bit. You part away from his lips, looking at the deep chocolate irises that you love seeing on a daily basis before running a hand through his sweaty mop of curls. He sets you down and plays with his bangs, moving them to the side as they desperately try to cling to his damp forehead.

“You guys killed it tonight,” you tell him, pulling him in for another hug. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his side and twisting his upper body and leaning down to press a kiss to your hair before flashing a closed mouth smile at you.

“Couldn’t have done it without my number one fan,” he says, cupping your cheek with his large calloused hand and placing yet another kiss to your body, this time directed at your forehead.

“So I was thinking that maybe tonight we go back to my apartment and watch some movies? I know we usually go bother my coworkers at the diner after your show but I kind of just want some you and me time,” you tell him with a smile.

“That sounds even better than going to the diner. I bet you’ve already picked out a selection of movies.” “You know me so well. I rented Halloween, Nightmare on Elm St-“

“Eddie? Eddie Munson?” a feminine voice calls out from behind you. You and Eddie turn around, watching a slim figure approach you with a bashful look plastered on her face. As she got closer, you noticed she was wearing a short black leather skirt and a bright pink top, barely leaving anything to the imagination with the amount of cleavage she was showing. Her hair was long and straight, looking silky to the touch as her skin glowed under the colorful stage lights that were still on. Who the hell is this, and how did she know Eddie?

Eddie squints his eyes as she approaches the two of you, his face relaxing and the smile growing wider than you’ve ever seen it when he finally makes out her features. You won’t deny the twinge you feel in your chest as you watch him drop your hand and give the mysterious woman a big embrace, bigger than the one he gave you moments ago.

“Holy shit! How are you? I haven’t seen you in forever,” Eddie exclaims, breaking away and tucking his hands under his armpits.

“M’good! Just finished up college not too long ago so I came back to Hawkins while I search for something a little more permanent,” she tells him, her timid demeanor going out the window as you watch the two grow comfortable with one another. “I see things at the Hideout have changed since we went to high school not too long ago.”

“Yeah, they sure have,” Eddie chuckles, kicking one of his feet out as he looks down. “Looks like the people in this shit town have finally come around when it comes to listening to good music.”

As you watch the interactions from person to person unfold in front of you, you feel the familiar tickle in your nose begin, hoping and praying that you won’t be noticeable if you aren’t able to get rid of the impending sneeze.

“Achoo!” You exclaim, bending down and hiding your nose in the crook of your elbow, silently yelling at yourself when you watch both pairs of eyes land on you.

“Bless you,” the mystery woman says with a smile. You nod, taking a step forward to try and join in on the conversation.

“Thank you,” you tell her, extending your hand. “I’m Y/N by the way, Eddie’s girlfriend.”

You watch Eddie nod as she takes your hand, shaking it firmly. “I’m Heather.”

Suddenly you feel your brain catching up with the rest of the world, clicking into place once the name leaves her mouth. This was the Heather you’d heard so much about from Eddie’s friends. The same Heather that just so happened to be his first love, capturing his heart in ways you wish you could’ve done yourself. If only you’d moved to Hawkins earlier in your high school career compared to your senior year, a.k.a Eddie’s second attempt at being a senior. 

The members of the Hellfire Club gave you all the details that you needed to know about Heather: that she was Eddie’s first everything. First date, first love, first time, and eventually, his first heartbreak. The two were smitten with one another when no one else wanted to look Eddie’s way, with all the judgy classmates questioning why they were together in the first place. They didn’t see Eddie for who he truly was, they only ever judged him based on his outer appearance. The same goes for Heather: everyone always questioned why someone as hot as her would settle for someone like Eddie, which always made you upset to hear.

“It’s really nice to meet you Heather. I’ve heard a lot about you,” you tell her, trying your best to sound as sincere as possible. Eddie shoots you a look, silently telling you to stop, which makes your heart drop a bit. Adverting your eyes from him, you look back at Heather, who didn’t miss the interaction. 

“All good things I hope,” she jokes.

“Are you kidding? Of course all good things. I can only hope you extended the same courtesy for me, if you did tell your college friends about me,” he says, rushing the last part out. Was he getting nervous?

“I can assure you that I did. Even after the way things ended…” she says, looking down to the ground as her sentence trails off. You can sense the tension in the air, feeling as if you’re causing the vibe of the conversation to shift a bit. Masking your feelings with a smile, you turn to them and excuse yourself, lying about needing to use the restroom before heading out for the night. Holding the curtain to the side, you enter the backstage area and round a counter towards an empty hallway you know nobody ever comes down after the shows, as you and Eddie have had your share of moments in this very spot, both PG and R rated moments.

As the secluded feeling sinks in, you feel the confidence and happiness that filled your body just moments ago begin to evaporate, vanishing into thin air as you replay the last few minutes in your head. His big smile when he saw her, the big and warm embrace, the look he gave you when you nudged your way into the conversation. It made you want to shrink into yourself. Jealousy was never something you were known for having, usually being more focused on the moment at hand and knowing the security you had with the relationships you had with the people around you.

But the history between Eddie and Heather changed that.

When you first heard about Heather, you didn’t pay much attention to it because you knew that was his past. He told you numerous times that he loves you and loves being with you, and it made you confident in the strength of your relationship. But knowing how strong those feelings he had for Heather and seeing her interact with him in real time, it changed things. He was a different man from the one he was in high school, having graduated and making a name for himself with the music he loves performing. And now that Heather is back in Hawkins for a while, it makes you wonder what could happen between the two of them. 

Would they be able to reconcile? It didn’t look like there were any harsh feelings anymore, so maybe making up was still an option for them. What if Eddie wanted to revisit his past and be with the girl he loved before you came into his life? Was the love he had for her stronger than the love he has for you?

You could feel yourself being to spiral, your arms wrapping around your body and hugging on tight. Your breathing was starting to become jagged and unsteady, trying your best to take deep breaths slowly to get yourself to calm down. Thinking the worst was always such an easy solution for you, because preparing for the worst and not being shocked by the disappointment that lies ahead was better than being blind to the impending doom.

Once you feel yourself becoming calmer, you exit the hallway and walk towards the curtain once again, hesitating and stopping in your tracks. Peeking your head out, you can see the two of them still talking, Eddie throwing his head back in laughter as the two share a funny moment with one another, making your heartache grow. Retreating back behind the curtain, you turn and see Gareth walking your way, a smug look on his face before contorting into a welcoming smile.

“Hey Y/N! Glad to see you made it out tonight, even though I know you’re in the audience every Tuesday,” he says, wrapping his arms around you. You give him a quick hug, pulling away and failing to mask the hurt as you see his demeanor change. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, everything is fine…it’s just, Heather is here tonight. She came up to Eddie and I and started talking with him and catching up-“

“Wait, Heather Heather?” Gareth asks before poking his head out of the curtain. “Holy shit! I had no idea she was back in town. Still looks as hot as ever.”

Pretending to ignore that, you let out a sigh and tap him on the shoulder. Gareth turns to you, lifting a brow.

“Can you make out what her and Eddie are talking about? I think I sort of killed their vibe earlier and now it looks like things are picking up now that I’m not there.”

“Yeah, hang on one second,” he tells you before disappearing behind the curtain. As much as you appreciate Gareth helping, you were more scared to know how the conversation is going. With all the possibilities that were swirling around in your head, it was just getting fogged up with negativity that you were not expecting this evening and you hated going to such a low place.

A moment later, Gareth pops back from the other side of the curtain with a neutral expression, which worries you more than it should. You raise your eyebrows at him, bracing yourself for whatever news that he was about to deliver.

“So I used the gig as an excuse to talk with them and told Eddie that we were almost done loading the equipment up, which is true, and he said he’d be back here in a minute. But as I was walking away, I heard Heather mention how they should catch up another time over coffee and when I looked back, she was writing her number down on a napkin for him,” he explains.

Somehow the news hurts you more than you imagined it would. With their plans on the horizon sometime soon, it made the insecurities rise once again. You knew how special someone’s first love could be because Eddie was that for you. Before moving to Hawkins, you had your fair share of dating but none that meant much to you compared to the feelings your harbor for Eddie. Knowing that he already experienced that with someone else didn’t bother you until that person had to show up right there in front of you. A majority of these worries and doubts reside in your head, you’re aware of that, but it almost feels as if there is going to be a choice he is going to make, and it isn’t looking good for your side.

You can feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, unable to hide the frown that resides on your lips as you process what Gareth told you. Looking at him, you flash him a sad smile before wiping away at your bottom lash line, a half-baked attempt to get rid of the tears. He rests a hand on your shoulder, ducking his head down to try and make eye contact with you. 

“Hey, don’t get sad, okay? Heather is just Eddie’s past, but you’re his present and his future. You don’t have anything to worry about,” he tries to reassure you.

“Yeah, you might be right,” you tell him before meeting his gaze and making eye contact. “But you didn’t see the way he looked at her. The way he smiled at her, the way he held her. On top of that, the way he looked at me when I talked to her. I’m worried that I actually do have something to worry about,” you explain.

Now it was Gareth’s turn to frown, breaking the eye contact and staring at the floor below. He should know better than anyone how Eddie felt about Heather all those years ago and it doesn’t just go away overnight. 

“I think I should go. I’m going to sneak around the other way…will-will you tell Eddie I wasn’t feeling good or something? If you can think of a good excuse, just use it, because my brain is fogged up right now and I can’t think of any,” you ask. Gareth nods, sending a sad smile your way before you disappear behind more curtains as you make your way around the stage to exit through the front doors unnoticed.

—————————————————————————————————————

It’s been three days since you’ve last seen Eddie.

Clocking out of your shift at the diner, you sigh as you realize its your usual date night with Eddie, yet haven’t heard a word from him since the awkward encounter with his ex at the Hideout. To say the silence has hurt you would be an understatement, as you wait by the phone any chance you’re home hoping he will call. He always makes it a point to call you at the end of each day when he knows you both are already off work, catching up on each others days and talking for hours before falling asleep.

Now you’re going home alone for the fourth night in a row, wasting away as you prepare yourself for when Eddie does eventually call you to break things off, telling you he wants to try things with Heather again while she is in town and rekindle the blissful and naive love they once held in their hearts for one another.

Tossing your jacket on the back of one of the chairs at your kitchen table, you let out a sigh as you begin making your way to your bedroom and undressing your uniform. Quickly, you change into a comfortable band t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts, tossing your dirty uniform in your laundry basket before going back to the kitchen. Opening your fridge, you spot the bottle of wine you have been eyeing every day after work this week. The delicious red teasing you and wanting you to indulge in the sweet liquid to cope with the impending end of your relationship.

“Fuck it,” you mutter to yourself, before grasping the bottle and twisting the cap open. Opening the cabinet above, you grab the first wine glass you see and take it out, pouring the wine in until it gets close the the rim. You take hold of the glass and make your way over to your couch, bringing the glass to your lips and letting the wine travel down your throat with ease. 

Before you’re able to bask in the taste, you hear your doorbell ring throughout your apartment. With a puzzled expression, you set the glass of wine down on your coffee table and make your way back to the front door, sliding the peep hold cover to the side to get a look at just who could be outside. Rolling your eyes, you take a deep breath before opening the door, standing face to face with the man who owns your heart. At least, for the next few minutes.

“Hey sweetheart,” he says with a smile.

“What are you doing here?” You ask straight out of the gate. 

“Good to see you too,” he says, raising his eyebrows and looking down at the pizza box resting in his hands for a moment. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do for date night tonight, so I just took it as an opportunity to plan an evening of pizza, movies, and indulging in the new weed I got from Rick yesterday.”

“I just thought we weren’t going to do date night this week since I hadn’t heard from you,” you say.

“Sorry sweetheart, that is my bad.” He tells you as he makes his way inside your apartment. He sets the pizza on the kitchen table and opens the fridge and pulls a beer out. “I’ve been extremely busy this week with work, band practice, and…uh, well…”

“Heather?” You question, closing the door and resting your back against it as you bring your arms to cross in front of your chest. He stills for a moment, frozen in place as silence falls over the apartment unit. Turning to you, he raises his eyebrows while biting his lip, his physical look of guilt showing front and center. Trying your best to remain stoic, you quirk a brow at him, keeping your position at the door as you wait for an explanation. 

“How, uh…how’d you know about that?” He finally asks after several minutes of silence.

“Gareth told me before I left on Tuesday. Said he overheard her giving you her number,” you answer plainly.

Another beat of silence falls throughout the room. Eddie’s attention is on the floor below him, kicking his feet as he digs his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and forgetting about the beer he was excited about enjoying. You find your eyes diverting to the ground as well, finding it hard to look over at your favorite metalhead. Mentally preparing yourself for the ache to grow, you finally let out a deep sigh, your hand coming up to rub at your forehead before you work up the courage to look at him again.

“Look, if you came all this way to let me down gently with pizza and weed, you can just save yourself the trouble. I’ve already spent the past few days preparing for this, so lets just call it what it is and go on about our lives, okay?” You muster out, feeling your throat close up and voice waver towards the end. You shut your mouth, turning your head as you feel your bottom lip begin to quiver. Opening the door, you step to the side and remain silent, not trusting yourself to speak anymore. You can’t breakdown in front of him, not when he’s choosing another girl over you.

You hear his heavy footsteps grow closer to you, stopping right before your figure. Your eyes are planted to the floor, seeing his stark white Reeboks enter your vision before leaving once again. Suddenly, you feel his hand lay on top of the one holding the handle to the front door, guiding it to a close and stepping to the side.

“I’m not breaking up with you,” he reveals.

You whip your neck in the direction he moved to, seeing the sad expression on his face as his big brown cow eyes look into yours. Part of you was hesitant to question him about it, not wanting his mind to change in a matter of seconds and leave you in a puddle of sadness afterall. But the more logical part of your brain wanted answers. Why did he not bother calling you for days but thought it was okay to hang out with his ex? Why didn’t he confess earlier about seeing her around? Why was he acting so strange at the Hideout, and why didn’t he want you talking to her?

“What?”

“I said I’m not breaking up with you, sweetheart. Why was that even a thought that popped into your head?” He asks, his voice level and sweet. He takes a step closer to you, filling the small gap that had separated you moments ago before slowly extending an arm out to you, cupping your cheek in his hand and rubbing the pad of his thumb across the soft skin.

“I don’t know…” you finally answer, the lack of confidence in your voice giving you away as your sentence trails off.

“C’mon, I know you had to think that somehow. I won’t be mad or anything, I promise. Just want my sweet girl to talk to me.” You take the beat of silence to think about to how explain it to him without coming across as a jealous and needy girlfriend. You can do this, you think to yourself.

“It’s just-I know how you felt during that relationship and how deep the feelings were thanks to Gareth and Jeff, a-and the way you were talking to her and looking at her at the Hideout on Tuesday made it look like no time had passed and that the feelings were still there. I mean, she gave you her number Eds! A-and you just said you hung out with her!” You exclaim, breaking out of his grasp and retreating towards the living room. You run a hand down your face, sighing as you try to level your heavy breathing. 

“Okay, when you put it like that…yeah it sounds bad,” you hear him say from the kitchen. You sit on the couch, taking a large sip of the wine you abandoned earlier. Eddie turns around and stalks over to you, sitting on the chair opposite of you, not wanting to get too close again after the failed attempt. “But baby, I promise nothing happened with Heather and I, okay? We went over to Rick’s last night after grabbing coffee and smoked. Nothing more.”

“I just wish you told me about it,” you let out, feeling deflated from the way you were reacting.

“I know baby, and I’m sorry I didn’t. Work had been busy and when I was going to call you after I woke up yesterday, Heather called and asked to hang out at the coffee shop. I should’ve used the payphone outside the place or hell, called you before I left my place. If I could go back and do so I would.”

You flash him a half-hearted smile, looking back towards your wine glass before picking it up once again. Bringing it to your lips, you take another big sip, beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol move throughout your limbs and send a tingling feeling in them. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Eddie slide over onto the couch, still leaving room between the two of you as he leans his arms on his knees, hanging his head down a bit and letting his long mane of curls move forward with him.

“You want to know what we talked about yesterday? Over coffee?” He asks, quirking a brow your way as he shifts a bit from his position.

“Hmm?”

“We caught up, I asked her about college, she told me all kinds of stories. Even told me the story of how she met her fiancé, who moved in with her when she came back to Hawkins. They’re getting married in November, a few weeks before Thanksgiving which I thought was nice. Then I talked to her about you, and how we’ve been dating since the winter of ’84 and been inseparable since then. I must’ve been smiling really hard or something because she pointed out how happy I looked when I talk about you, which is true,” he chuckles out, a silly grin creeping onto his features.

Now it was your turn to smile, unable to hide the warm and fuzzy feeling that made its way into your chest at hearing the words. You set the wine glass back down, shifting on the couch so you were facing his direction, legs crossed as you leaned over to take his hand in yours. “Really?”

“Oh of course baby. Look, what I had with Heather all those years ago was great, and I appreciate the time I had with her then. But loving her taught me how to be better and show the person I was really meant for all the more love and affection that they deserve. You,” he boops your nose, making a giggle escape past your lips. “-you are the one I love now and will love until I take my last breath okay? All the shit I’ve been through was worth it because it brought you to me when you moved here, and I am so fucking happy about that. Wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

You can’t help but feel the burning sensation behind your eyes at Eddie’s sweet words. Sure, you still felt like a bit of a fool for acting like a jealous girlfriend, but hearing Eddie shut down all your worries and reassure you about his feelings for you in the nicest way you could’ve imagined warmed your heart. You move your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him towards you and closing the distance between you as your lips meet his. His hand instinctively goes to your hip, holding you closer as his mouth moves against yours in fever.

Eventually pulling away, you lean your forehead against his, giggling to yourself as you feel his bangs tickle the sensitive skin of your cheeks. You look at his big brown eyes, seeing the soft look he was giving you and melting all over again.

“Sorry for acting like a jealous girlfriend babe. Not the prettiest look for me if I’m being honest,” you joke.

“Hey, if the roles were reversed, I would totally act the way you did, so I get it. But now you know that you don’t ever have to worry about anyone else, because like I said, you’re it for me baby. I love you.”

“I love you more,” you say, pressing your lips to his cheek. He shoots you a grin, breaking contact with your forehead and rubbing slow circles into the fabric of your leggings. 

“How about I warm up that pizza I brought over and we pop in one of those movies I rented? You probably need some food after all that wine you drank,” he says, making you laugh. Nodding, you agree.

“That sounds like the best idea you’ve had.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things angst #stranger things fluff #gareth emerson #jeff stranger things #corroded coffin #fanfic #fanfiction #angst #fluff #strangermarvelss

[solar-wing]

⚣ Holidays with the Waynes 🦃

⚣🦃 A/N → This idea came randomly, conveniently after Thanksgiving. To everyone that celebrates, Happy Turkey Day (he said about two weeks late) and Indigenous People's Remembrance Day. Also, everyone congratulate me. I finally made a fic under 1000 words. I almost made it longer to but stopped myself. This is why it takes so long to get posts out of me. Just when I think I'm done, I add more. WARNINGS: none. just typical Wayne chaoticness

⚣🦃 Summary → His life is like a reality show and every day is a new episode, with the holidays being their own specials. So, when a classmate asks him how his Thanksgiving was, how does the youngest Wayne son even come up with a response?

⚣🦃 Words → 622

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🦃

“So, Y/N, how was your Thanksgiving?”

What a loaded question.

*cue the flashback ripples*

“Damian, why is the turkey in my bedroom?” The youngest Wayne asked after entering the kitchen and finding his half-brother sitting at the island.

“Master Y/N, if you’re going to be eating in your room, I do ask you put a cover over your sheets to avoid crumbs and stains, please,” Alfred said while seasoning one of the various dishes for their dinner.

“Oh, Alfred, it’s not like that. It’s–” Y/N tried to explain before stopping himself after Damian sent him a glare, warning him not to utter another word or else, “It’s just that I sometimes get after-dinner cravings and don’t feel like making the trip to the kitchen. Won’t happen again, though.”

Alfred gave him a suspicious look after glancing at Damian who was avoiding his gaze, before nodding his head and continuing his food preparations. The two brothers both looked at each other before the youngest nodded his head towards the door, making his way out of the kitchen while trying not to act even more suspicious knowing the butler was watching his every move.

Damian quickly moved in tow behind his brother, following him to one of the sitting rooms. A cautious measure to ensure they were out of earshot.

“Next time, scan the room before you start blabbing off as you usually do,” Damian said, his usual annoyed and slightly threatening squint in his eyebrows.

“I do not blab, thank you very much,” Y/N said, his hands on his hips and breath huffing out, showing his clear offense to his brother’s statement.

“History would beg to differ.”

Y/N scoffed with an eye roll, “Whatever. Why is the school’s Thanksgiving turkey mascot currently nesting in my room?”

“I overheard one of the faculty members talking about how good the animal was going to taste on their plates come Thanksgiving dinner, and I refused to let an innocent animal be subjected to such brutality.”

“Okay, but you can’t just kidnap the turkey, Damian! Let alone hide it in my room!”

“First, his name is Tiny. Please, give him the respect of using his name. Second, he’s happier and more relaxed in your room. I think he enjoys your color scheme.” Damian said as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“I–... Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I were a Kardashian.”

“Less authentic and more plastic. Also, you know how Father feels about that family, especially the mother. And, how would you feel if someone tried to chop off your head and limbs so you could be put on a platter that serves 6-10?” The Boy Wonder questioned, mirroring his brother’s body language with his hands on his hips.

“Damian, you literally chased me around the house with your sword last Tuesday.”

“I thought we were playing tag.”

“Who plays tag with a sword?!”

“People who don’t want to get tagged.”

“I–... No words. None whatsoever.”

“Does this mean you’ll let Tiny room with you tonight?”

“Fine.”

For the rest of that Thanksgiving break, Y/N spent it with a roommate who would wake him up at the ass crack of dawn with a series of short, noisy clucks. The youngest Wayne had to explain to his father that he was listening to a new LO-FI relaxing tracks of bird sounds to help him relax.

He received many strange looks from his various family members.

“Oh, just the usual stuff. Holidays with my family are pretty lame. Anyway, what about your family?” Y/N answered, lying straight through his two front teeth.

Holidays with his family were never lame, but also never normal.

BONUS:

☀️ | Bat Family | ☀️

☀️| Masterlists | ☀️

#solar-wing ☀️ #☀️🪽.fanfic #☀️🪽.dcposts #☀️🪽.txt #dc #dcu #dcau #dc universe #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x male reader #reader insert #male reader insert #x reader #x male reader #batfam #batfamily #bat fam #bat family #batfam x reader #batfam x male reader #batfam x batbro #batfamily x reader #batfamily x male reader #batfamily x batbro #batbro #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth

[4pfsukuna]

Kings get jealous too

Yall voted and honestly the thought of Jealous!sukuna was tooooo good to not write. Reader is black (happy black history month btw). Sukuna does not like to share… or have anyone touch whats his why would a king have to?

The vibrations of my phone for the 3rd time was finally begining to annoy me so with eyes still closed i reach around the bed only to slap something warm and firm.

“Still here sweetheart” i hear the raspy voice of sukuna i dont need to look at him to know hes smirking and my eyes shoot open making direct eye contact.

Finally reaching for my phone hoping to get some sort of clarity i see 100 missed calls, 43 text messages, 17 instagram post. The safest option was to go through my messages as i try to gain memory of why this idiot was in bed next to me.

“Oh sweetheart do you not remember?” He chides cockily and i sit up seeing a picture that nearly killed me. My tongue out… against Sukunas sternum in a secluded corner of the club with him smirking devilishly at me and the next of him carrying me out his hands firm on my ass.

The club.

The club!

Housing yuji had been no problem at all, owing a favor to Gojo i was glad when this was all he needed. Yuji itadori was sweet kind always cleaned after himself and was a genuine pleasure to have around even cooking when away on missions.

The issue? The fact that he was a vessel for a 1000 year old king of curses that was a complete pain in the ass who gets a thrill out of you especially finding out i was kazumi Honoka and had i not resented my family could easily match Gojo or top him . The Honoka clan known for the most powerful flame and fire weilding sorcerers every few generations, squeaky clean image rich and arrogant just as the other powerful clans.

“Sukuna the only reason your not dead is because i havent found a way to exercise you from yuji i know for a fact i could kill you” i seethe only to be met with silence. I hated being ignored and he would do it on purpose as if his pathetic ass being housed by a child was better than me. Growling i pull a dagger from my waist band and swing it at Yuji necks who looks at me in fear but Sukunas mouth breaks through his neck biting the dager making it crumble into a million pieces as if it was nothing more than a cracker.

“You dont even know how to fully weild your cursed energy sweetheart, i could have you dead in 10 seconds and with the remaining 9 dance over your corpse” his mouth cackles from the side of Yujis neck.

This was a typical tuesday morning for us.

“Yet you’re only a pathetic excuse of what you used to be. King of curses yet you’ve been trapped inside of yuji for years how lame” i degrade a sneer on my face as i adjust my shirt.

“I— should we do something about this” Megumi ask from next to Nobara on the couch who looks concered and ready to break us up but not sure how plates of breakfast getting cold. It wasnt even 11am yet.

“No. This is a typical Tuesday it’s kind of like foreplay for them. Usually she ignores him or teases back unless she had a difficult mission” Yuji informs them before shoving another pancake in his mouth and of course he noticed the differences in our interactions i was the only one Sukuna really interacted with anyway.

“How was it?” Nobara looks at me and i sigh. I nearly died because i lost my footing tripping over my own tube of fenty lip gloss, how could i ever admit that.

“Pffft, struggling with a puny curse yet you think you could take me on? You make me laugh, brat” and thats what makes me lose it and ignite the fire flames on my hands my eyes matching as i do cause a groan from Yuji.

“I havent even finished breakfast yet can i atlea—“

I cut him off.

“Release him” i fume cracking my knucles making the flames bigger my breakfast completely forgotten about.

“Yeah release me brat so i can finally have my moment with her” he snaps back at yuji and this time I smirk the fire on my hands dulling.

“If thats what you wanted that’s all you had to say, it’s childish to be mean to a girl you like. Unfortunately you’re not my type” i grin patting Yuji cheek where Sukunas mouth was only to feel his sharp teeth nip at my hand.

“Youre nothing like the women i had keeping my bed warm just like you’re silly little technique you wouldnt know what to do with me” he chides back the two on the couch getting whiplash from how fast our conversation changes and how quick our comebacks are for another.

“See, foreplay” Yuji utters to them as he finishes his plate of pancakes satisfied with his belly being full leaning back on his seat.

“Well we were going to celebrate you getting back and figure you could use a night out since returning from your mission, but it looks like you definitely need it” Megumi speaks up motioning between myself and Yuji.

————————————————————-

Giggling with Nobara as we take a 6th shot of casamigos to see who would tap out first watching a woman try to flirt with  Megumi who's completely oblivious or just awkward at flirting.

“What's the deal with you and Sukuna? Girl to girl like i didn't even know he spoke unless he had full control” she prys bumping my shoulder which i roll my eyes at.  “Please Yuji told me how he always has an eye on you, always ask about you when you're not around and flirts with you relentlessly”

“He also pesters me” i add sipping the lemon drop the bartender placed infront of us mentioning it was on the house.

“Anything to keep your attention” she smirks while taking another shot. “It’s why he’s taken over Yuji yet instead of burning the entire world down he’s watching you”.

And he is, black tattoos adorned his body as he sits on the sofa eyes piercing through the crowd focused directly on me. Maybe it was the curiosity maybe it was the alcohol but i was tempted to test her theory. 

Swiping another coat of lipgloss over my lips and adjusting my shirt so my boobs were perked up with a quick hair fluff i turn to the guy at the end of the bar Whos been covering our tab for drinks.

“Hello handsome” i grin taking the stool next to him watching the instant lust build in his eyes. I could still

Feel his eyes on me and its only right to give him a show.

The man on the stool looks over at me, double taking before adjusting his posture to give me his full attention.

“My my tonight must be my lucky night an angel like you gracing me with your presence” he praises the strong smell of alcohol on his breath as he twirls one of my dark curls around his finger releasing it with a spring.

“Move” and Sukunas glare is deadly biceps rippling under the club light his shirt long gone.

“Hey pal” the man says setting a hand on Sukunas shoulder unaware of just what was about to happen and i couldnt even warn him my eyes never left the king of curses. 

Without breaking eye contact he grabs the mans hand crushing it the sound of bones crushing couldn’t be hidden by the loud music but i still could only focus on sukuna.

“Wipe the smug look off your face” he grumbles stepping closer the heat of his body rolling off onto me.

“Lord Sukuna, king of curses the almighty and powerful isnt… jealous?” I giggle watching as he takes the shot left behind by the man scowling as he takes the shot next to it as well.

“Dont humor me, he was weak and undeserving. Plus if something happened to you Yuji would never shut up” he… rambles? Oh he was so jealous. Fire literally comes out of my hand unless that man controlled water and in copious amount what harm would he truly bring me.

 “So if i were to go home with him and sleep with him you wouldnt be jealous in the slightest? And i mean hours of letting him have his way with me—“ to which he scoffs rolling his eyes in disgust.

Sukuna wasnt a man of many words more so action so i could talk all i wanted but the best reaction id get was from action. And i knew just how to pull it from him.

“Not even if i did this?” I ask but before he has a chance i bend down coming eye level with his abdomen and drag my tongue from the begining of the black mark to where it ends on his chest smirking when i come eye level with him watching as something dark ignites in his eyes.

___________________________________

When we get home theres not a surface left untouched that he doesnt have me against. Pressing me into the front door as he bites down my neck licking and sucking over my pulse.

“Suk—mmmm” the moan comes out of me as he tugs on my earlobe with his mouth his hands feeling like hot fire on my body. He begins to pull me further in but i pull back giggling at his look of dissatisfaction. 

“I gotta take m’shoes off” im sure i slur my words slightly only to be picked up and placed on the top of the black velvet couch my feet on the seat cushion giving him easier access. Im shocked by how gentle he is untying the straps from around my calfs before he gets frustrated ripping them off.

“SUKUNA!” I yell watching the coy smirk on his face and he leaves a kiss on my calf.

“Whaaaat?” Before another kiss is placed on my knee followed by my inner thigh and right when i think hes going to go under my skirt he switches to my other leg the warmth spreading in my core and i wanted him to stop teasing. 

“Sukuna” i groan but it instead comes out as a sigh feeling his thumbs massage into my inner thigh extremely close to my core as i feel his breath over my underwear.

“Tell me.” He grunts against my core the vibrations shaking my whole insides and maybe my body was just sensitive to him because i could definitely cum just like that. “Tell me what i want”

And hes placing kisses over my pussy through my underwear moaning and something about him wanting me so bad he would kiss me through my underwear turned me on even more. I’m sure he could tell because its not long before his tongue is poking at the sides making me shiver.

“Give me what i want” i counter to prideful to beg alcohol be damned the arrogant grin on his face doesnt budge as he pulls me down so im on the seat easily throwing my legs over his shoulders. Long fingers brush my wet folds as he hooks his finger in my underwear, a lewd comment about me being so wet for him my thongs were clinging to it in a way his tongue would replace.

And hes not lying, he places one long lick from my hole all the way up to my clit, a light swirl around before placing a peck and I feel electric. My head luls back as he uses two fingers to spread my lips open giving easier access to my clit which he sucks kisses licks and moans against.

“Fuck” he groans against it placing a wide open mouth tongue kiss on my pussy and i arch into him? Away? Im not sure my eyes slam shut when i realize hes kissing my pussy the same way he was kissing me against the door and the pure lewdness of his mouth being full of me. The wet smacking sounds were being drowned out by my moans and cries of his name and with a particular flick of his tongue on my clit i launch forward squeezing my thighs around his head which seems to entertain more than bother him.

“Eyes on me” he moans against me tapping my thighs twice and i couldnt even remember shutting them. His lips apply more pressure as my hands get lost in his hair holding him in place which seems to egg him on his motions becoming filthier with every flick of his tongue.

He pushes me back before his wide palms squeeze my thighs grunting as he continues his assault licking me in ways that would leave a mark on my mind before tongue-fucking me which is what sends me into the spiral of cuming for the first time. (And embarassingly fast)

“So delicious” he murmurs licking up every drop and i can feel my heart pounding in my ears as i try to catch my breath. It took him less than five minutes to have me in a puddle, figuratively and literally and my brain scrambled. 

Pulling me forward by my chin he places an aggressive kiss on my lips leaving me dizzy as i taste myself on his lips until he quickly pulls back standing up beckoning me to follow him.

“We need to get you to bed” he speaks and i miss the taunt in his voice taking it as being scolded instead which makes me stop the cold of the hallway floor settling on the pads of my feet.

“What?!” I snap and he raises a brow facing me the taunt evident on his face.

“Unless you want something from me, tell me sweetheart” And it’s nothing more than an attempt to get me to beg but i was entirely not going to. I would never, no matter how mad i wanted him to rearrange my insides.

“No?” He ask cupping my jaw roughly his thumb grazing my bottom lip rubbing the juices on my lip— the moment he fucks up.

Using my tongue to wrap it arround his thumb before sucking it into my mouth watching the desire come full force in his eyes. I release it with a small pop sound a string of saliva connecting his finger to my lip his eyes never moving from it.

“I mean i know you like when i lick your marks up your chest but what about down?” I whisper before my tongue drags down the black lines down to the waist band of the pants pulling them down watching his dick spring out yet the weight, length and girth stops it from springing completely against his abdomen. 

My mouth waters at the sight and i feel myself sink down to my knees keeping eye contact wrapping my acrylic fingers around it. Theres a drip of precum as i slowly begin to pump that i chase with my thumb smearing it against the tip.

Removed from my trance i feel his large hand cup my jaw roughly and the other replace my hand over his length giving a few slow pumps so i eagerly stick out my tongue knowing exactly what he wants to do.  He taps it on my tongue twice before slowly pushing it in my mouth keeping direct eye contact the whole time listening to the way his breath stops as he hits the back of my throat. He feels heavy in my mouth in the most delicious way causing me to moan and give a slight suck.

Its the soft groan that he makes that encourages me to take control pulling back slighty before pushing him all the way down my throat one hand at the base making a twisting motion while the other massages his balls this time earning a “fuck baby” and i almost tease him about it but my mouth was… full.

Pulling back once more for air i swirl my tongue around the tip collecting every drop of precum before licking my way down to his balls and taking them in my mouth. His leg twitches and his eyes are on me with a blown eyed gaze as i swish them around my mouth sending him a wink the smirk coming back.

“Youre such a— fuck… brat taking my dick like this in the…” he stops for a second going to reach for my hair and i almost send a glare until i realize hes just moving it off my shoulders. Hollowing my cheeks and sucking hes brought back to his words. “In the hallway, so hungry for me arent you” he growls 

Moving my mouth back onto his length taking him 4 more times down my throat my hand replacing where my mouth previously was before continuing a bobbing motion. The pace of my bobbing matching the pace of my hand twisting before his hands start caressing my cheeks using it as leverage.

“Such a good girl” he begins stuttering eyes rolling back head falling against the wall. His hips began moving and im not even sure he realizes it and hes fucking my face at a quick pace muttering words in a language that i couldnt identify— maybe something prehistoric.

“Throat so.. mmf… so good, such a good brat. FUCk” he growls when i gag but doesnt stop for a second just continues his rambling. “My brat, youre taking every inch so fucking… so fucking” he holds my head in place as if hes trying not to cum to quick.

Shit thats exactly what hes doing!

Tapping his thigh to gain his attention, the same way he did to me I internally smirk the moment his eyes meet mine and I know exactly what kind of thing would make him release. Slowly pushing down until my nose hits his pelvis as I pull back I give him the longest blink I can exaggerate without looking crazy letting the tears prick my eyes without falling giving the base of his dick and balls a slight squeeze moaning the entire time.

“You fucking demon— nnghhhh”he moans as ropes of his cum shoot down my throat his hips twitching as he holds me in place trying to keep his eyes on me. after hes satisfied everydrop is in my mouth not a single one gone to waste He finally lets my face go before im being pulled up by the front of my shirt. His lips are on mine as hes groping me like my clothes dont exist his hands running all over my body pulling me in closer. 

His tongue swirls in my mouth and its like a mix of both of us before i playfully bite down on his bottom lip feeling him harden against my hip making me grin. He likes it rough i could be as rough as i wanted and hed probably just love it even more.

My legs wrap around his waist the moment he picks me up walking the rest of the way to my room and placing me on the bed pulling me shirt over my head and to inpatient for my skirt and underwear he rips them off. Climbing over me he places a few teasing bites up my neck marking up what hadn't already been marked before pulling back slightly to line himself up with my entrance.

I assume hes going to tease but the squelch and sudden burn of him pushing in makes the corner of my eyes prick with tears only brought back by the sounds of his grunts.

“And you fucking thought id let you go hone with another man and hed have this view of you cock drunk already and all ive done was slide halfway in” he chuckles darkly and i look at where we are connected.

HALFWAY?

“Eyes on me brat” and my leg is thrown over his shoulder before he leans forward giving me a bruising thrust. Well clearly i bit off more than i could chew. His thrust are fast and heavy but not painful. He rolls his hips and my hands fly up to his chest.

Hold on what was this. He sends a handful more thrust just like that with the same force… no not force pressure and i can feel my mouth watering. These werent the quick hard and fast strokes i was expecting. Sure they were rough but—

His large hand throws my other leg over his shoulder pulling a high pitched moan from me and he was entirely to deep inside of me. Its a particular thrust that hits a spot deep inside of me causing my eyes to cross and i nearly push him off of me had it not been for our position.

“Ahhhh looks like i found that sweet spot” he taunts thrusting into it again and i bite my bottom lip trying to hold in the moans. “Cute attempt” and before i could ask what he means he leans forward so were chest to chest and if he wasnt deep before he definitely was now.

“Fuck” he growls against my ear continuing his assault my eyes only catching the way every muscle ripples in his back. He was making his mark and not just sucking and biting but engraving his self in my memory. Every thrust every roll of his hips its like he was trying to make sure i wouldnt forget drunk or sober. Its slight caresses that turn to grips, hip rolls that turn to strong thrust that rattle my whole body bites thats followed by his tongue flicking over them.

The orgasm begins to build and i feel the wetness already sliding down making him grunt picking up the pace. 

“S-sukuna!” It rocks through me before i have time to warn him but he doesnt stop just continues to fuck me through it his chuckles a distant thought it my head.

“You were so jealous” i mutter through heavy pants the only thought i could hold onto before he's pulling out and i'm flipped onto my stomach his length pushed back in this time his hand snaking under me to play with my clit his strokes different this time. 

His fingers are going fast yet his strokes are slow are taunting his balls slapping against me the contrast sends me into another orgasm my brain telling me to fight back. 

“The next time you think IM jealous of another man some puny mortal remember i can make you cum in 30 seconds” he grunts in my ear and i know theres a glare on his face. But he doesnt stop he alternates the pace of his fingers and thrust making me moan out trying to hold back long forgotten.

“You look so delicious” he moans and the sound has my toes curling. He drops half of his weight on me as his other hand comes around grabbing my neck lifting me up so I can see our reflections in the mirror. His maroon eyes were dark and getting darker with lust as we made eye contact through the mirror and for a second my mind turns to mush the only thought was how good he felt with every thrust and pinch of my clit.

“Look at you… fuck falling apart under me” he grunts a smile building on his lips before he licks them gripping tighter on my neck. “You look so perfect taking my cock like this. Getting so… youre making such a mess on me. Youre pussy is so tight and warm and the way youre clenching when i talk… shit. You must like my voice” his grin grows and i look away but the way i clench around him gives me away im sure.

His hand moves from my clit leaving three stinging SMACKS. His grip grows tighter on my throat forcing me to look at him again in the mirror, his hand squeezing over my cheeks.

“Sukuna” i snap or try to but it only comes out as a stuttering moan which satisfies him. 

“Don't look away” he growls and when hes sure im not going to try again he places his hand back on my clit.

“Im not jealous,” he tries to prove his point but it was lost on me i didnt even care i was in complete bliss.

“I can fuck you better than him. He was just going to turn into a boy and jackrabbit you. He wouldnt know what to do with all the woman you are. Me…JEALOUS? No im leaving my mark youre going to remember every touch, lick, bite, shit and thrust. Thats real punishment. Ruining you for every man after me. They couldnt fuck you like this” he rants a deranged look in his eyes before his speed increases and of course.

He wasnt some 20 something year old guy he was a 1000 year old curse with years of experience in torture. Brute force was a mere quick thing and nothing about this was quick.

“Sukuna im going to…” i whine kicking my legs feeling the pressure build up and it was becoming to much for me. I try to thrust back to push him off but that sinister smile grows the widest ive ever seen and instead he pulls me to my knees by my hip. It instead becomes leverage as he uses his other hand to push my back down creating an arch as his pace comes to the fastest its been all night finally pushing in all the way the tip hitting the spot that made my eyes cross again.

“Oh… OH” he chuckles as he watches my fist curling in the blankets the moans no longer quiet but loud screams im sure my neighbors would complain about tomorrow but i couldnt care. 

“Feels good doesnt it, i should make you beg to cum, i should edge you. I shouldnt even.. fuck.. youre lucky youre so pretty i shouldnt even let you cum for even entertaining him. Were you trying to piss me off?” He growls but it all falls on deaf ears. My own shrieks of pleasure are the only thing i can register.

“But since youre here… under me and that stunt you pulled? At that silly little club? Ill be nice just this once brat.” He moans his thrust becoming sloppy as if the thought of me licking him turns him on. 

“Cum for me” he pinches my clit sending me into my demise the hot ropes of cum from him shooting inside of me as his grunts get louder while he rides out our orgasms. 

“Good girl” is the last thing i hear before darkness takes over.

_________________________

Sukuna isnt prepared to glance at the clock at 4:37am. Sure he wasnt fully sleep but being prepared for the brown skinned fire sorceress to wake him up 10 minutes ago for another round was the last thing he expected.

Sukuna loved every second of it. She wasnt like past women who wanted to made sure they just pleased him oh no she wanted to conquer him.  find every kink, every sensitive spot any twist of her hips or clutching of his core that made him putty for her and exploit it. Biting him, sucking on his neck, hair pulls and even slight chocking— ok it was nothing slight about it at all, even when she pins his arms above his head he was losing his senses because everything was her.

She had the audacity to try this and look so fucking good doing it. It was no longer him fucking her but dhe was fucking him and damn did it feel good. She was marking him every inch of his body stating her claim and he nearly felt pride, his brat, fuck did she know how to get him going. So prideful she wouldnt even cum again until he did even if that means he did have to snake one of his hand down to pinch her clit watching her tears come down her face as she fights so strongly.

Sukunas proud and for a moments forget this isnt his body just a mere vessel but hes so proud of her he wants to drop his whole load and really claim her as his own but things are a bit complicated right now. But hes so prpud of her being so strong taking every inch and seeing the lengths of her stubotness but fuck does he want her to cum. He needs to feel the way she cums arounds him and watch as the cream builds up at where their bodies meet, he needs to see that pure look of bliss and feel the desperation as her body clings to his. But he can talk her through it.

“H-hey sweetheart, look at me” he growls angry she had him stuttering and with a sharp thrust upward to meet hers she whines looking down at him.

“What?! Y-youre —-mmmm fuck… youre fucking up my pace” she seeethes through clutch teeth pulling roughly on the hair at the nape of his neck his moans unable to be hid at the pure pleasure.

“Sorry sweetheart” he falsely apologized repeating the thrist again feeling her clench. “Just wanna say youre doing so good, taking me dick so good just like you should” he sits up watching as she adjust using his shoulders for leverage.

“Listen to it… every sound, squelch— youre gripping me soooo tight. I could fuck you all night, loose myself in it. Its so wet and warm and your taking every inch like a good brat for me, my brat” he breathes in her ear before bringing her jaw so theyre eye to eye once more.

“I cant wait to watch you cum for me again, make a mess all over your dick.” He tells her watching as she tries to close her eyes and he sends another rough thrust forcing her eyes back open.

“You have 5 seconds to give it all to me” he tells her darkly left hand going to her clit as a threat not rubbing or moving just pressing into her.

“4” and she presses her forehead against his

“3” he smirks as her hips become erattic the whimpers increasing from her mouth.

“Sukuna!” She snaps digging her nails into his back holding on tighter to him. He grins kissing the side of her head thumb not moving from her clit but pressing harder.

“2” and the wet sounds increase  letting him know he was more than capable of talking her… counting her through it.

“I hate you” she moans releasing all over him sending him into an orgasm as well thrusting his hips so they can both ride it through only stopping when he feels her body slump against his.

“I hate you so much” she speaks through ragged breaths as he leans back never pulling out and he chuckles kissing her head again pushing her hair out of her face.

_____________________________________

“So youre telling me…” i trail off completely speachless when all the memories from last night come back and i can feel everywhere he touched like it was burned into my skin.

His arms rest behind his head the holds that cocky smirk and lazy look in his eye as if i forgot his moans.

“You fucked me like that because you were jealous?” I giggle once more watching as his glare comes back

#jjk x black!reader #jjk smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x black reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x oc #sukuna ryomen #yuji x reader #choso x black!reader #megumi x black reader #nanami x black reader #jjk #sukuna smut #gojo x black reader #gojo x black y/n

[gracesboo]

SHE ⟢ TRENT ALEXANDER-ARNOLD [SOCIAL MEDIA]

synopsis, people knew that trent was in a long-term relationship. but they didn’t know that having an established relationship, meant having a small family on your own.

author’s note, the pics are not hella descriptive of trent (bc it’s hard to find some good ones with someone whose looking like this man) so be indulgent 😘 my requests are still open!!!! i literally write for everyone lmao (football, wnba or wcbb...) so don't be shy 😇 xx

♪ she — tyler, the creator ft. frank ocean

yourusername

Liked by trentarnold66 and others

yourusername it’s been a while since i posted on this account, sorry babes 💖

View all 12 567 comments

user the two girls on tweeter manifested this

user trent does NOT need all this beauty for himself 🙄

user pause… what’s that last slide 😨

user i feel like she’s kind of a gold digger

user she saw him go from nothing to a football star, and you still get to say stuff like that about her? that’s insane bro

user they’re so UGH

szoboszlaidominik ✓ not bubba wearing my jacket 😎

yourusername it must be honoured lmao

user the fuck is a bubba?

user i don’t know why but it feels like we’re missing on something

trentarnold66 ✓ 🐻❤️

yourusername love you lots

user not [your name] babysitting

user imagine it’s her own baby 😨

user there’s NO chance

perrieedwards ✓ gorgeous 😍

yourusername you are 💖

user need me a relationship like theirs

trentarnold66 ✓

Liked by yourusername and others

trentarnold66 ✓ all that i need. happy anniversary my missus ❤️🐻

View all 34 678 comments

user WHO IS THAT DAMN KID

tylerarnold94 bubba needs to share his shoe game

trentarnold66 ✓ me and the missus make sure he’s as stylish as us 🤷🏽

user if THIS ain’t a sign of trent and his gf having a kid i don’t know what is anymore

user the abs 😍😍😍😍😍

user his gf is so fine

trentarnold66 ✓ and mine btw

user YO

user my only preoccupations right now are: who/what is bubba? AND WHO IS THAT CHILD

user y’all are dumb

user are they married?

user no they’re not, they’re just celebrating their five years and trent likes to call her missus all the time (even tho he DIDN’T PUT A RING ON IT)

yourusername yeah tell him bestie 🙄

trentarnold66 ✓ your fingers are full of (my) rings?

yourusername not by the RIGHT one though 🙄

trentarnold66 ✓ 🤣 okay, dw about it

user we need a bubba reveal

yourusername soon 😘

yourusername

Liked by perrieedwards and others

yourusername all that i need. happy anniversary my man 💖

View all 23 367 comments

trentarnold66 ✓ okay but did the second pic was necessary?

user yes it was.

trentarnold66 ✓ not me waking up on a sunny tuesday and finding my ass on instagram

yourusername YOUR ass?

trentarnold66 ✓ yes, MINE. all mine actually babe

user the theory 😨😨😨😨😨

user need me a trent in my life

user i think the girl trending on twitter might be right with her theory…

user what theory are you guys talking about???????

user GORGEOUS UGH

virgilvandijk ✓ bubba’s drip 🔥

user THE FUCK IS BUBBA

user i think i might GO INSANE

user not the big ass bouquet of flowers 💔

user killed the whole garden for his girl 😍

user at this point i’m not even questioning that kid’s presence anymore. they probably kidnapped him or whatever 🤷‍♀️

user day 18299201 of asking a bubba reveal

yourusername 👀

trentarnold66 ✓ updated his instagram story !

[caption 1: bubba looking fine with his new haircut 🔥][caption 2: gotta keep the dino safe 🤣]

trentarnold66 ✓

Liked by liverpoolfc and others

trentarnold66 ✓ so, i think it’s time for everyone to know about my biggest and greatest achievement, the little person i am most proud of and grateful for. my son.

my missus does not need to justify herself regarding the fact that we decided to keep the birth of our child, and a small part of his childhood, hidden from the media.

but i think that i, personally, as a public figure and as a father, should however address something to you. not explain, because keeping my son away from the world was the best decision ever and that i do not need to justify myself about it. but address it, because i want to clarify things.

firstly, i’d like to thank my woman for bringing this little human to the world. for letting me become a dad and a better man everyday, but also for letting me show our son to the world and let people know about him. i love you with all my heart.

this is not a little decision, it is a big one, but we will assume all the responsibilities of it.

even though you all, now, know about our boy’s existence, we decided to not show you his face for privacy reasons. and this fact might not change unless we actually communicate it with y’all. so, please, we ask you to, if you have the opportunity to see it, not share pictures of our child without our consent (or it will lead to legal proceedings) and to respect our choice and privacy.

i am a public figure, my own face and appearance are plastered all over the internet, and it is my choice, but my kid’s face does not need to be all over it too.

i hope that you’ll understand our point of view, and respect my girl and kid’s privacy just like you respect yours.

thank you again for your support,

trent.

View all 872 567 comments

user I KNEW IT I KNEW IT

user OH MY DAYS WHAT

szoboszlaidominik ✓ the happiest uncle right there

darwin_n9 ✓ 🙏🏻❤️

user i am actually in shock

user they’re a little bit too much i think

user have a kid while you’re a whole football superstar and then come yap about it

virgilvandijk ✓ congratulations to my favourite people (again 🤣) ❤️

user RUE

user WHEN WAS THIS

user they have fbi superpowers

user not them hiding a kid for THREE WHOLE YEARS

user this needs to be on the newspaper 😨

user gotta talk about this to my therapist guys…

user already on it

user THERE WERE SO MANY SIGNS WE’RE JUST DUMB

liverpoolfc ✓ sending all our love 🤍

user i think that girl who was trending on twitter for her theory might be a witch or something ‼️

yourusername i love you

trentarnold66 ✓ you know i love you more

yourusername i know 😜

user TRENT’S IN A RELATIONSHIP?

user you’re 5 years late boo…

yourusername

Liked by perrieedwards and others

yourusername 2021 throwback. 👶🏻🤍🍼

[Comments under this post have been restricted]

trentarnold66 ✓ i love you two with everything in me, i swear. 🐻❤️

yourusername we love you as much.

this blog does not accept plagiarism.

#✍🏽 | gracesboo’s writing #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagine #liverpool fc #trent alexander x reader #trent alexander imagines #trent alexander x you #trent alexander arnold fluff #trent alexander arnold x you #football #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football fic #football fanfic #football fluff #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #liverpool men #3lions #england x reader #jude bellingham

[sat0sugu-angst]

Fight Me, Fuck Me

a/n: happy valentiiiiiine's day!! Sorry this is a lil late i ended up picking up a shift at work so I wasn't able to finish it until this evening (which is kinda ironic ig but whatever). I seen a vid kinda similar (but less horny) on tt n couldn't resist imagining you and bkg getting in a fight on date night and lowkey being all hot n bothered with how yall are mean to each other 🙈 then w V-day around the corner I thought why the hell not lmao

wc: 3.5k

cw: afab!reader, reader is described as feminine but no pronouns are used, prohero!bkg, reader has a healing quirk and works at the hospital, yall can be toxic but that's why it's fun, established relationship, pet names (babe, my love), bakugo pays a lot of attention to your ass and thighs, reader and bkg are switchy asf, multiple orgasms, creampie, squirting, light spanking

all characters aged up +24

MDNI

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

You were silent as you continued doing your makeup, looking past yourself in the mirror to find red eyes focused on you.

Considering it was Katsuki, there wasn't a lot of aggression in his expression, but still, his eyes on you pissed you off. "Can I help you?" You asked, your attitude seeping into your tone.

He sneered, pushing off the bed and walking into the bathroom. "Not unless you can hurry that lil' ass up." He shot back. "We're gonna be late."

You and your boyfriend had impossible schedules. With you regularly pulling doubles at the hospital and Katsuki working his way up the hero rankings, you didn't often get a night off together for date night. Even the important couples holiday, Valentine's Day, was a day neither of you could take off. So this year, you decided to celebrate your own V-day, nearly two and a half weeks after the actual holiday.

The problem was you had mixed up your days, rushing home from the hospital in a flurry after getting a confirmation call that afternoon about the reservation from Katsuki’s assistant. You felt guilty, especially since he'd taken on planning the date night. But in typical Katsuki fashion, he'd blown up at you, yelling his head off as soon as you walked through the door. Then, despite your guilt, you were pissed at him.

"I told you on Tuesday that I was gonna be working today." You raised your brow, looking toward the bathroom with lips pursed. "If we're late, it's because you don't pay attention to anything I tell you."

"Babe, I already said I was sorry." You huff, unsatisfied. You turn back to your face in the mirror, reaching for your eyeliner. "And you told me that while I was in bed. You think I can remember the shit you tell me when I'm half asleep?"

You narrowed your eyes, trying to keep your hand steady as you did your eyeliner fuming mad. "Nice apology, Katsuki." You said dryly.

He emerged from the bathroom, and as he passed behind you toward the door, you caught a whiff of the cologne you'd gotten him for his birthday. God, it smelled so fucking good. Normally when he wore it, it was only a matter of time before you were on top of him, unbuttoning his belt. Not now, though. Not unless you were gonna use the belt to strangle him. "Don't fuckin' talk to me about apologies. You're the one who forgot about tonight in the first place."

"I didn't forget!" You whip around to face him. You had crazy eyes, you knew, but fuck, your boyfriend made you feel crazy sometimes. "We had different dates down, and I couldn't exactly leave work immediately. There was a bus accident today. The hospital was overrun. I can't just leave when people need me."

"People are always gonna need you. They're always gonna need me. Doesn't mean we don't need each other." You stilled, recognizing your own words. You'd said them early in the relationship, the first time your jobs were making it hard to be together.

"Are you trying to make me feel guilty? I can't even count how many dates we've had to cancel because you had a mission! But oh, because it's my job, it's a bad thing to be dedicated? Do you not take my job seriously?"

He groaned. "Babe. Do you know what I had to do to make tonight special for us? The strings I had to pull to get us a spot at this restaurant for tonight? If we were just gonna sit at home in our fucking underwear, it wouldn't be a big deal."

You were glaring, but turned your attention back to the real task at hand. "You know what, I can't even fucking talk to you right now. I need to finish getting ready." You could argue, or you could do your makeup. You could not do both.

He let out a bitter laugh. "Well, thank god for that!" He yells back, walking out of the room. You flushed with anger, the sudden urge to throw something at him. But you couldn't chase after him to scream anymore; if you really were late, you'd never hear the end of it.

Ten minutes later, you were off, heading toward the restaurant in silence. Well, silent except for the occasional passive aggressive sighs and grumblings about the music you passed back and forth during the twenty minutes it took to get there.

When you got there, the host offered to take your coats, and Katsuki’s hands were on your shoulders, helping you out of yours. The rough pads of his fingertips grazed over your shoulder, and you were acutely aware of his breath ghosting along your neck.

Fuck, you think, annoyed at the way goosebumps rise along your skin, always like a live wire when it came to his touch. You had to fight your body's urge to lean into his touch, your anger still simmering but somehow making everything hotter, more volatile. You needed to keep it together. You couldn't let him win the argument because you were a little horny.

The restaurant was elegant, elevated. The low light was warm against the white tablecloths, and you were glad you had purchased a new dress for the occasion.

Katsuki was dressed to impress, too; charcoal colored trousers and a black cashmere sweater. When he took off his own coat, you had to remind yourself not to check him out. At least not obviously.

You followed the host toward your table, Katsuki behind you. “Are you gonna be pissy the whole night?” He asked as you were sitting down, realizing the attitude had yet to leave your expression. He couldn’t admit the reason it’d taken him a second to realize you were still pissed was because he’d been too focused on the way your dress hugged your curves, or how he had wanted to run his hands over your hips as he’d taken your coat. No, he wouldn’t admit the reason his ears were red was because he couldn’t stop thinking about dragging your ass to a restroom, or back to the car, to fuck you so hard you forget about why you were mad in the first place.

You sneered at him, about to pop off with an insult, and maybe a curse or three, but you were greeted quickly by your waiter.

Katsuki ordered wine for you, and a dirty martini for him.

When the waiter left, you shot a narrowed look to your boyfriend. “I’m not pissy.” It was a blatant lie, but you couldn't be bothered to care about being fair.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. You have been since you got home.”

“Well, I kinda had a shitty day,” you said, honestly. “Can’t imagine why you thought yelling at me would make me feel better.”

“Babe, really? You were supposed to be off today, then you text me that you were staying late. And you still stayed later than you said. I almost lost the fuckin’ table tryna change the reservation. We don't get to do this often, I'd like my fucking girlfriend to at least pretend to be excited about it.”

You groan a little, trying to not be loud and draw attention. This is not the place you wanted to have this argument, especially with someone as explosive as Katsuki, but you weren’t ready to concede, because if you did, he’d think he was right. “I told you since last week that I’d picked up the extra shift, on this day, and you didn’t say anything. I didn't do it to spite you, and I don’t really appreciate being blamed for an honest mistake as if I did it to piss you off. We’re here, aren’t we?”

“Yes, and this is just how I wanted to spend the evening with you.” He said dryly, sneering and turning his attention to the menu, effectively ending the conversation.

The rest of dinner, and even the drive home, was much of the same. Neither of you were able to drop the bickering long enough to really talk about anything. Over the course of the meal, one martini had turned into two, and you’d finished off the bottle of wine. You both were still mad, senses dulled, and emotions amplified. When you glared at him, you couldn’t help but focus on the shape of his eyes, how pretty he looked even when he was mad.

And all he could think about was how he wanted to fuck the attitude right out of you. Every sneer, every glare sent his way, pissed him off, but he couldn’t deny how fucking sexy you were when you were mad. Without even trying, you had him half hard in his pants, like he was some fucking teenager on his first date. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, even by the time you’d gotten home.

He rounded the car to I open the door for you, offering you a hand. You raised your brow at him, but let him help you out the car. Katsuki set his hand on the small of your back, just barely above your ass, only because he needed to touch you. He wanted to get you hot and bothered, until you were begging for him.

The heat from his hand did stir something low in your stomach, and you tried not to show how he affected you, not even looking in his direction. As his hand dropped from your back, his fingertips grazed your ass, and you rolled your eyes as he unlocked the door. “Don’t think that’s gonna make me forget I’m mad at you.”

"Tsk," he clicks his tongue at you, pushing open the door and flashing that smug smile he knew you couldn't resist. “You can be mad at me and still want me to fuck you.” He said shamelessly.

You felt your face heat at his boldness, and you had to look away, focusing on the door as he pushed it open. He moved, if only slightly, for you to walk in passed him, and you fought to maintain your composure. You loved it when he was like this, and he knew it was a sure way to get you in the mood and give whatever he asked of you.

He wasn’t wrong, either. You weren’t even really sure why you were still fighting, other than that you were being stubborn and, in a sick way, loved fighting with your boyfriend.

You walked past him, keeping your expression level. Katsuki watched you move through the house, following you into your shared bedroom. Despite your efforts, he saw right through you; he was certain he could have you apologizing and begging him to give you attention.

But you were determined, and when you wanted, could be even more stubborn than your boyfriend. Through the wine, or maybe because of it, you knew you’d succumb to him eventually. You always did, and happily. Tonight though, you wanted him to fold first.

So, you took your time getting undressed, going so far as to ask for Katsuki’s help unzipping your dress when you could've done it easily, letting it pool around your ankles before you stepping out of it. As you stood in front of your dresser, examining its contents and deciding what pajamas to slip into, Katsuki slipped his hands around your waist, settling on your hipbones. He pulled you back into him, and you felt him, hard, pressing again the small of your back.

You bit your lip, stifling the urge to lean into him, to rub against his erection, or worse, let out the sweet moan that threatened to expose you. After so many years together, he knew exactly what would make you crumble, and fuck, you almost did.

“I’m trying to get ready for bed.” You say instead, voice clipped. You reached for a pair of black shorts from the drawer, but his hand was covering yours, intertwining your fingers. Fighting to keep your expression even, you leveled a glare on him as he leaned over your shoulder. “You really wanna piss me off tonight, don’t you?”

“Definitely wanna do somethin’ to ya.” He shoots back quickly, the thumb at your hip rubbing slow circles into your skin, promising more. You narrowed your eyes. There was no way you could resist him, you needed to act quickly.

You turned around, looking up at him through your lashes. His hand was on your ass now, fingers squeezing and pulling you closer to him. You placed your hand flat on his stomach, trying to put some space between the two of you. You were flushed now, and he knew it. “C’mon,” his finger came up from under your chin, forcing you to look right at him as he smiled sweetly at you. “Don’t be a sore loser. Admit it. You’re turned on.”

You lean up onto your toes, pressing your lips against his, reaching down and untucking his shirt the best you could. He helped you, getting his belt undone and stepping backward out of his slacks as you pushed him back toward the bed.

He was pulling his shirt off as he sat on the edge of the bed, before pawing at your hips so you were sitting in his lap. The heat of him pressed right against you was delicious, and you rolled your hips against him. He swallowed your sighs as your tongues danced together, flushing with pride at the noises you pulled from him.

He was impatient, meeting the wave of your hips with thrusts of hie own. But this pesky fabric between the two of you. "Fuckin’ take these off already.” He grumbled, pulling at the fabric of your underwear where it covered your ass, and you wasted no time getting rid of your last layers of clothing.

He nearly cried out as you lowered yourself on top of him, leaning into you so that you could feel his heavy breath tickling your neck. You allowed yourself to enjoy it momentarily, before pushing his shoulder with a finger so he was laying back on the bed, his legs over the edge of the bed. You squeezed around the tip of his cock as you got used to the stretch. “Fuck, you’re so wet already.” You hid your satisfied smile by leaning down, sucking kisses from his chest up his neck. With each hitch of his breath, every moan, you rewarded him, clenching around him, or shifting the angle of your hips, lowering down until he was pressed flush against you.

You were used to the stretch, but with the way he filled you, and the lovely friction against your clit, you could already feel how the tension in your stomach was ready to snap. You needed to calm down before you came undone, biting into his shoulder as you found the rhythm that would make him crumble.

The drag of his cock along your walls had you clenching, and then you started to feel the telltale signs that he was close. His fingers tightened on your hips, almost painfully so, unable to control the way he thrusted up into you.

"You gonna come?" You cooed, sitting up a little, pulling out slowly and dropping down on his cock. He looked so close, his eyes fluttering each time he filled you. His resolve was crumbling, too lost in the feeling of you around him to remember that you were the one who was supposed to be one begging.

"Fuck," He whimpered when you clenched around him. You settled your hands on either side of his chest, leaning forward so you could keep bouncing on his cock. "You wanna come, my love?" You ask, crumbling at how Katsuki blushes under you. He nods, melting for you. You lean forward, pressing a messy kiss against him. You were close, too. If you looked at that expression one more second, you'd come undone.

You shift the angle of your hips, and he let out a clumsy grunt, fingers squeezing the fat of your hips for some stability. "Fuck, baby, just like that. I'm gonna—"

That's when you lift your hips, until only his tip is inside you, and still. You reach down, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock. He cries out, a moan turned sour as deny him. You smile down at him, and he knew by that look in your eyes that he was in for it.

You leaned down, lips brushing over his slightly as you said, "I'd like to see you beg me to let you come." He couldn't even find it in himself to be mad, not with the way you looked above him, your hair messy from him running his fingers through it, the light sheen of sweat on your skin from riding him so well. He doesn't care who was supposed to punish who, not when he was so close to coming, not if all it would take was a little begging.

You continued edging him, bouncing up and down on him until he got close, then cockwarming him until he calmed down. His sweet pleas grew more desperate. You almost let him when you came yourself, squeezing around him uncontrollably as you stilled on top of him to ride out your orgasm, and he nearly lost it at the feel of you so tight around him.

But even though you came, you weren't done with him, continuing to roll your hips over him, looking right into his eyes as you fuck him.

He has tears pricking his eyes, and he's whimpering. “Baby, please. Please let me come. I’m fucking sorry for yelling at you today. I got lost in wanting things to be perfect, but I was an ass for getting mad.” Your expression softens for your boyfriend, and before you can even speak, he’s leaning in. His kiss is rough, hurried, and he’s thrusting up into you harder now than before, shifting so he hits that spot that has you moaning into his mouth. Unexpectedly, you fall into your next orgasm, and he feels you clenching. “Baby, please can I come?”

Words elude you, so you simply nod, leaning against his chest and resting your hands on his shoulders, bracing yourself as he uses you to finish. He’s twitching inside you, and after only a couple more thrusts, you feel his warmth flood your cunt, as he fucks you through both your orgasms.

You’re breathing heavily, body feeling heavy as you lay on top of him, hands still resting on your ass, holding you against him. You feel his cum, and yours, seep out of you onto him, but he makes no move to get up to clean.

“I’m sorry, too.” You say softly, tracing your finger over his chest. You look up at him, and his gaze is already on you. “I was being kind of a bitch. I just…felt guilty, for almost ruining tonight, but it was easier to be mad at you than admit I messed up.” You feel your cheeks heat, looking away from him and resting your ear against his chest. “So, I’m sorry for being so sour all night. And for getting the day wrong.”

He rolls you both over, easily moving you both so your head was back against the pillows, still snuggly pressed inside you. Still hard, you realize. “Cute apology, but I can’t let you off that easy. You were a bitch tonight.” His eyes shine wickedly, his smirk smug as he pulls slowly out of you. You whine at the lovely drag of his cock along your walls.

He leans down and, kissing you hard, knocks the breath out of you with the way he thrusts back into you. “I'm not done with you, yet." He thrusted into you again again, hitting that spot that had you already craving a third orgasm.

You’re gasping curses, then his name, as he fucks you, slowly but with strength and precision. You couldn't help digging your nails into his back as you feel the first wave of your orgasm. "Fuck, I'm gonna come again." You say breathlessly, and bite into his neck as you tug on the hair at the nape of his neck right as you come. You feel a rush of liquid, making a mess between your thighs and dripping down your ass, ruining the sheets beneath you.

The way you're clenching around him has him seeing stars, and feeling you squirt around him spurs him into his next orgasm, keeping himself buried in you as he cums. You pull him in for a kiss as he fills you, his lips grounding you as you come down, chests heaving against each other.

~~~

After showering and changing the sheets, you’re back in bed, curled up into his side and playing with his hair. You’re both smiling, fucked out and tired, though unwilling to end the night. “We should just sync our calendars.” You say finally. “That way we won’t get anything confused, and we can avoid pissing each other off.”

His hand, which had settled on your hip, landed a couple light smacks on your ass. “I don’t think I mind us pissing each other off. Not with the way you fight.”

You roll your eyes, grinning even as your face heats. “Please, you were the one who couldn’t stop pawing at me when we got home.”

He snorts. “You liked it,”

“Yeah,” you say absently, eyes growing heavy. “I guess if we settle our arguments like that, I don’t mind getting into a fight every now and then.”

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

a/n: thanks so much for reading! I hope you like this spicy little valentine's treat <3 if you did, pls lmk with rbs and comments! happy v-day <3

taglist: @asmaechan @animexholic @justanothernpcartist @inumakicanrailme

#bakugou katsuki #bakugo smut #mha bakugou #mha smut #katsuki bakugou #bakugou smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x chubby reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha smut

[shawtuzi]

no thoughts head empty just househusband!reiner

cw: black fem!reader, breeding kink, exhibitionism, lactation kink, kinda sub!reiner, mommy & daddy kink—i’m probably forgetting something but pls enjoy regardless

sfw

househusband!reiner who gets up before you every morning to make you your favorite breakfasts and coffee—yes he will pour the entire cup of coffee out if it’s even the tiniest bit too sweet. when it’s time for you to go he always makes sure to bid you farewell with a goodbye kiss.

househusband!reiner who will either have your lunch packed in ready in the morning for work (he leaves you a cute or spicy little note in every single one he packs) or will come to your job and surprise you with takeout.

househusband!reiner who spends his free time watching tutorials on youtube on how to style little black girls hair for your guys’ daughter. that is his baby right there and he absolutely loves seeing how happy she is after he finishes her hair.

househusband!reiner who constantly gets hit on by other moms whenever he picks up your daughter from ballet practice but he don’t even pay them women no mind too enamored in how cute his little angel looks in her leotard and tutu.

househusband!reiner who prepares a sweet treat every tuesday and thursday for your daughter when she gets off school or the two of them will make the dessert together and surprise you with it when you come home from work.

househusband!reiner who keeps the house nice and tidy all hours throughout the day—until your daughter comes home. her favorite game is to throw all the throw pillows and couch cushions on the floor and walk on them pretending that the floor is lava. whenever reiner tries to clean up the mess she uses those oh so cute puppy dog eyes and convinces him to join her.

househusband!reiner whose lock screen on his is a picture of you and him at the hospital holding your newborn little girl. his home screen is a picture of the two of you on your wedding day, his arms were wrapped around you from behind, pressing a kiss to your cheek and you were smiling probably the hardest you’d ever smiled in your life. those two pictures meant the absolute world to him and he’d rather take a punch to the face than ever change them.

househusband!reiner who is a superb cook!! your daughter has never been a picky eater and it’s bc reiner’s meals are so damn good! every time you come home after a long day at work the table will already be set and there’s a plate waiting at your spot. if you’re working a late night he’ll have a big plate of leftovers waiting for you.

househusband!reiner who doesn’t give a single fuck that he’s a househusband no matter what anyone says. he loves catering to his daughter and hard working wife and at the end of the day he’s probably getting more play than they ever will. there’s nothing that turns a woman on more than a man who actually helps out around the house so best believe you and reiner are getting it in every other night.

nsfw

househusband!reiner who is a god tier pussy eater like this man is the definition of a munch. his fav thing to do is suckle on your clit while three of his thick fingers are shoved inside your clenching cunt. if you’re on a time crunch he knows how to make you cum in less than two minutes with ease but if he’s taking his time he’ll quite literally spend hours between your thighs until you push his head away in need for a break.

househusband!reiner who is soo whiny when you ride him you have to either cover his mouth with your hand or gag him with your panties. he loves when you take charge and even degrade him. no one on this earth is gonna be able to call reiner braun a ‘whiny little bitch’ and walk away still conscious except for you.

househusband!reiner who sometimes sneaks into your showers in the morning and fucks you silly. his intentions are pure at first but once you feel his hands start to grip at your waist/ass or wander to your lower region you know that he’s feeling a lil needy and who are you to deny your sweet husband?? that’s how you always end up pressed against the tiled wall while reiner hits it from the back, whining and moaning into your neck about how good you feel wrapped around him and how lucky he is to have a wife as beautiful as you were.

househusband!reiner who has the biggest breeding kink known to man. he’ll take any opportunity he can to cum in your sweet pussy and mumbles out little ‘thank you’s every time you let him. he’ll also settle for cumming on your pussy, ass, tits, etc.

househusband!reiner who is also into exhibitionism!! if you’re at your office he has no problem sneaking under your desk and throwing your legs over his shoulder and eating your pussy till your legs are shaking. if you’re a couple of glasses of wine in at a dinner party and suggest to sneak off to the bathroom together he’ll be trailing right behind you, his dick already semi-hard in his dress pants.

househusband!reiner who has a massive obsession with your breasts. he loves loves loves when you let him lay in your lap and and suck on your nipples while you jerk him off into overstimulation. if you’re wondering he one hundred percent drank your breast milk. the first time he did it he just couldn’t help it! it hurt his heart hearing how much pain you were in when your breasts were so full with milk so he quickly, yet gently lifted your shirt up and latched onto one of your nipples.

“r-rei,” you gasped gripping onto his hair to pull him away, your breast milk dripping down his chin. “what are you doing love hm?” you breathlessly giggled wiping the milk from his chin. reiner nuzzled his face into your tits, leaving gentle kisses on the smooth skin. “hate hearing how much pain you’re in when they’re full—i wanna help you. will you let me help you? please?” all it took was one look into those pretty brown eyes and you gave in letting him latch onto your nipple once more. by the time he was done he came in his pants and your panties were a soaked mess—safe to say whenever your breasts were feeling a little extra sore you went to reiner for help.

househusband!reiner who has a raging mommy kink and has no shame about it. it kinda ties in with his breeding kink—whenever he’s got you folded in half, thighs clapping against his pelvis he’s whispering the most dirty promises in your ear the word ‘mommy’ will slip past his kiss swollen lips a couple times.

“f-fuck mommy you feel so good shit,” he growled wrapping his hand around your neck. reiner leant down to give you a sloppy kiss full of tongue and teeth flashing before pulling away, “m’gonna fill you up n’ give you another baby i promise. you’d like that wouldn’t you mommy?” his moans were becoming more whiny and breathy and his thrusts were becoming sloppier by the minute—you could tell he was close and you knew exactly how to make him reach him peak. “yes d-daddy please—ah! p-please fill me up, ‘wanna carry your baby again.” reiner let out a loud groan, his hips stilling as spurt after spurt of his hot cum filled you up, your greedy pussy squeezing him like a vice to get every drop out. reiner rested his sweaty forehead against yours breathing out a small ‘thank you’. although the seemed tired and ready to call it a night that was far from the case. reiner let out a hum before sitting back up—suddenly you were flipped onto your stomach ass up, reiners still hard dick rubbing between your soaked folds. “we have the night to ourselves and you think i’m gonna tap out after four rounds? i must’ve really fucked you dumb huh? silly girl now arch that pretty back for me.”

#reiner braun #reiner braun fluff #reiner fluff #reiner braun smut #reiner smut #aot fluff #aot smut #attack on titan smut #attack on titan fluff #snk smut #snk reiner #reiner x black reader smut #reiner x black reader #reiner braun x black reader

[greycaelum]

My shoujo ass cant stop thinking of kenma and masaki wit my baby sai...................

Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters: { First Princess }

—Gojo Satoru X Wife Reader

𑁍 Genre: fluff, domestic life, parenthood

𑁍 WC/CW/TW: (1.7k)—/overprotective Dad Satoru, he's having a girl dad dilemma, lovey-dovey moments, fluff, overall domestic life, 3rd munchkins cameo, slight mention of jujutsu society, childhood friends—/

𑁍 A/N: Trick or Treat! And Satoru got the treat from his Baby Cat! In exchange for a stomachache~

Gojo Satoru... never in his life thought he would die this early...

He can't believe time has passed so much that his bones are starting to hurt when he moves or that his already white hair can get any whiter... or that—

"Love... I have never once doubted where our kids got their drama skills." You sighed, interrupting his monologue.

"Baby!" Your husband whined from the couch and stomped his feet. "She's just 13!"

"Exactly... Calm down 'Toru." You sighed and wiped your hands on your apron. You could see Kouki watching over his two younger siblings in the backyard... Satoru, on the other hand, is having a midlife crisis because of his first daughter.

Barefooted, he trudged to the kitchen and hugged you from the back, a petulant pout on his lips.

"I should have taught her to kick harder as a kid. Maybe I should enroll our daughters in an all-girls school instead. It's not too late y—"

You stuff his mouth with the mochi you're making, effectively shutting him up and, at the same time, calming him down. His ranting turned to munching, and his chattering mouth soon turned to a chin resting on your shoulder while you make snacks for the kids with a husband stuck to your back, hugging you like a teddy bear, asking for bites of what you're making.

You wiped your hand after putting the new batch of brownies you made in the oven.

"You know Saika would never intentionally do anything to make you disappointed. But she's a growing girl, a very good girl at that. Barring her from exploring will not solve the problem." You sighed and turned around to stare at your husband's pouting lips. Gosh, he never grew up from the pouting phase. "If we try to stop her from exploring, she might tend to be sneaky instead. How can we give her guidance if she doesn't feel accepted?" You smiled at Satoru, washing off his worries with your words.

"I know... It's just that..." Satoru blew out a frustrated sigh. "I don't want her to get hurt. She's too young for this, y'know..." He hugged you, burying his face in your neck.

You inhale a large breath and pat his back, empathizing with your husband and his dilemma for being a girl dad. You wonder if you'll ever feel this too with your sons... Or if your husband is simply just being the sensitive big teddy bear he is.

"Y'know, Love..." You trailed and took his face in your hands. "I hate to break it to you like this, but..." You chuckled. "Saika is just with her classmates doing a school project."

Saika has been telling you for one week straight how she's so excited to go over to her friend's house for the first time and do their project, something about some baking activity in home economics, which you agreed with delight. Satoru was also happy about it... until he asked who was her group partners.

"Masaki and Kenma and Iori, and..."

The rest of her partners were ignored the second Satoru heard familiar names.

"Masaki... Kenma?"

"Still! Did you see how that Chiba boy dared come to my doorstep every Tuesday morning to pick up my Cat? That brat, when he grows up, I swear when he grows u—"

You poked his cheeks with your fingers, stopping his plans.

"Baby, you see that?" You pointed to your eldest son, making flower crowns for his youngest sister while his younger brother kept climbing on his back. "You and Kouki have been watching over her since she was born. Do you think your son will be this calm if he doesn't trust Saika's friends? We both know how protective he is of her sister, and he knows Masaki because he goes to school with him almost daily."

You kissed Satoru's frowning brow, easing his temples while his arms remained around your waist, still with the bit of pout on his lips but not as hysterical as earlier.

"Can you blame me? I'm clingy with my first princess." Satoru sighed. "She was so tiny when I first held her. I was so scared if I breathed too deep, she would cry. She's so precious and fragile that I can't handle it. If she cries, it would crush me..." Satoru's words were muffled as he sank into your arms.  

"Mnnn... I know. Must prepare our youngest girl if you suddenly bawl out when she finally gets a boyfriend two decades later.

You didn't have to pull his face up to your eyes to know how Satoru turned several shades paler and sucked a nervous gasp against your collarbone. You saw your two youngest munchkins run to the front yard and the famous single-double tone of knock on your doorsteps.

He left you as quick as a bullet train and ran to the door where, as expected, his Cat was, holding a basket of sweets, and behind her... was someone Satoru would pronounce as his mortal enemy years from now.

Maybe because Masaki is the one he often sees, Satoru never really paid attention to Kenma. That was a long time ago. Saika was just a toddler back then, oblivious to what a 'boyfriend' meant, and took it too literally as a male friend.

"Papa! Look, I made mochi for you!" Saika's eyes lit up, and excitedly enumerated the sweet he brought home for everyone.

"Hey Princess, did you make all these? Lemme have this one~" Satoru looked in the basket and got a cheese stick, then praised his daughter for making them very good... that's a lie, it tastes like the Baumkuchen you threw out coz it was three days expired. But he can't possibly say that in front of his precious daughter, who will probably cause him to go in and out of the toilet later.

"Sir, good afternoon."

A serious voice greeted Satoru.

In his straight stance, hands behind his back and feet against each other, Masaki bowed to Satoru. Saika was used to this. Masaki would greet her Papa, and her Papa would grunt with the same constipated look he always had every time Masaki came into their home.

"Masaki-kun, thank you for bringing Saika home safely." You appeared behind Satoru with a smile. The kid looked up and greeted you formally as well.

"Good afternoon, Lady Y/n..." The young boy visibly softened his stance at your sight, but when he saw Satoru watching him like a hawk, Masaki instantly straightened up again like a soldier under his supervisor's stern glare.

"How about you come inside for tea, Masaki-kun? I made some baklava." You warmly invited, patting Satoru's shoulder in silent warning. Saika already went inside, calling her siblings.

"I... I'd love to, Lady Y/n, but my mother told me to be home by 3 in the afternoon." The boy looked a bit somber as he turned down your offer. You know his parents are stricter than others, so you cannot find fault in such an answer.

"Then next time, I'll make some milk pan. Saika loves those." You didn't miss how his eyes sparkled at your offer and the subtle scoff of Satoru on the side.

The kid waved goodbye, but just then, a rushing Saika almost collided with you in the hallway. She ran past you and Satoru towards Masaki, who was already at the gate.

You couldn't hear what they were saying, but based on the cellophane-wrapped baklava your daughter was handing towards Masaki, you could only chuckle and hold down the hand of your seething husband, dragging him a little more inside the house, just enough so the two of you can spy on the kids.

Your husband silently huffs and walks into the house, holding the basket of sweets Saika brought home, calling the kids to share the treat. Though you didn't miss how he ordered his men to watch over Masaki to make sure the boy reached the Chiba Estate safely.

Later that night, you saw Satoru talking to Saika over an ice cream, the two of them huddled up on the couch, playing some Mario Kart.

"Papa doesn't like Masaki, Mama?" Kouki, in his pajamas, walked closer to you, asking you to dry his long hair from the shower.

"You know your Papa, you'd never hear the end of it if it comes to boys." You carefully wring out the excess water from his artic tresses while he hummed and stared at his sister and father fighting over the last spoon of the ice cream.

"Masaki is better," Kouki said with a long look.

"Why so?" Oh? You quirk a brow at your eldest's remark.

"His family is a branch of the Gojo Clan, though the Chiba clan is a minor family, at least that lessens the complexity of explaining about normal citizens and sorcerers." Kouki huffs.

"Since when did my son start thinking of this stuff? Sweetheart? Is that all?" You chuckled and hugged your eldest, pinching his nose. 

"Of course, it also makes it easier to hunt him down if he hurts Cat's feelings," Kouki grumbled with a pout. Just like his father, thankfully, your youngest son is just a toddler, or else you don't know how to keep your three boys from guarding their sister like an apparition against other men.

"Mama! That's unfair. You didn't comb my hair tonight." Saika called from the living room as she saw her brother all fluffy and well-groomed from your hands.

"I can comb it for you, Cat!" Satoru added. Kouki soon joined the huddle, poking fun at his sister.

Needless to say, whoever tries to ask for your daughter's hand, they'll have to go through a lot. She is, after all, the first princess of the most important boys in her life... Just like that, you can't help but wish that if ever... she did find the man of her life, he would treat her as precious as you all have treasured her... Just like how her father has cherished you, or maybe even more.

Satoru chuckled and put down the comb.

"See, my Little Treasure is as pretty as ever!"

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld @loml-riri @pelicanpizza @emichou-chan

#kaleidoscope series #jjk fluff #c&mchapters #jjk dad gojo satoru #jjk dad gojo fluff #jjk married gojo fluff #married gojo fluff #gojo saika #gojo kouki #kaleidoscope series y/n #husband satoru x wife reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo satoru #gojo satoru fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x you #greycaelum #gojo x reader #dad gojo #jjk dad gojo #dadgojo

[emmyrosee]

random thoughts #4 (14:44)

Every Tuesday night, bakugou comes over to get his nails painted.

It starts completely begrudgingly, originally only starting because your room smelt like acetone and it was creeping into his room- somehow, some way, and you’re pretty sure it wasn’t actually, he just wanted to come over and start some shit. You'd merely sighed and told him to mind his business.

"Who shit in your cereal?" he'd snarled, and when you just scoffed and started to close your door, he jammed his foot in, "you are so not shutting me the fuck out. be so fuckin' for real."

"as fun as you think this conversation is," you begin, having mercy on his foot and opening the door, "I just want to finish my nails and go to bed. please."

he snarls and looks into your room, then back at you. "something happened."

you shrug, "nothing bad. just not happy. don’t have to be happy all the time, no one knows that more than you.”

"you're upset, no matter what it was." his voice is softer now, and he takes a deep breath in before crossing his arms and blinking at you slowly. "you want some company?"

"no," you say flatly before moving to close the door. once again, his foot jams in the way.

"hang on," he says, grunting. "you... you shouldn't have to be upset and alone. been there, fuckin' blows."

"and why would you, the impenetrable bakugou katsuki care about me being upset?"

"well, for fuckin' one-" he gestures a hand around, "i smell fuckin' popcorn and nail polish and fuckin' sprinkle fart coming out of here, and it reeks."

you tuck your tongue in your cheek to hide your laughter.

"and two-" this time, his eyes meet up to you. He struggles briefly to find words, mouth opening and twitching as he struggles to find them. “I’ll… let you rant while you paint my nails.”

The both of you quirk your brows as if you don’t know where the words came from, but you decide this was better than having him lecture you about the importance of friendship or some shit.

“Bakugou,” you sing, and he grits his teeth. “Did you come over for me to paint your nails?”

He takes a deep inhale through his nose to calm down. “Sure did. If that will make you feel better.” He’s fuming. You’re finally starting to relish in this a little more.

You shrug, “who knows? Maybe it will?” You step to the side to let him in. “You wanna find out? Maybe it’ll get a stick out of your ass too.”

Bakugou snarls one more time at you before stepping into your room. “Smells like shit.”

“It’s acetone.”

“What’s that for?”

“Taking off nail polish.”

“But you don’t have nail polish on.”

“Not anymore; sit down bombshell, and give me your paws.”

And even though he kicked and screamed the whole time as you tore up his unkempt cuticles and cleaned them with the acetone, he was able to finally shut the hell up as you hook him up with a deep, solid red to match his eyes.

“How’d you get so good at this?” He asks.

“Don’t touch anything; and I’ve just been doing it a while.” Then you shrug, “and I’ve been painting Shinsou’s nails since he got here.”

“MINDREADER?!”

“He asked. You didn’t.”

“Never again. You go to me. Fuck him.”

You smirk, “you jealous?”

He doesn’t say a word. But from then on, it was just Katsuki coming to knock on your door every Tuesday, plopping on your floor and letting you paint his newly grown nails, be it in silence or you two talking about your thoughts.

You’d never expect him to be such good company 🥺🩷

#wanna bite him #idk how the numbers will do but I love the idea of this so leave me alone #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki fluff #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x gn!reader #bakugou katsuki x reader fluff #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugou katsuki bnha #bakugou #bakugou fluff #bakugou x reader #bakugou x gn!reader #bakugou x reader fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugou bnha #bnha #bnha fluff #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #bnha x reader fluff #bnha x gender neutral reader #bnha x gn!reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #bnha x yn

[lilac-5ky]

The one where he carries you home after a fight (Toji xFem!Reader)

A/N: My 7AM sleepless demons wrote this, not me.

warning: mentions of alcohol

Series Masterlist

“Thanks for coming, Toji. She wanted us to hit Roppongi next.”

“No problem.” Toji mutters as he lifts your limp body over his shoulders—arms thrown over his neck and knees buckled around his torso.

He nearly winces at the overwhelming stench of tequila emanating from your breath, praying that the wetness seeping through his shirt is drool and not vomit, though that’s more like wishful thinking. You are wasted. Completely and utterly drunk out of your mind to the point where you can’t differentiate the setting or those around him.

“Mistah, drop me off at the next station,” you slur with your eyes closed, pointing somewhere on the horizon before nodding off again. This was the third time you repeated that motion.

“How much did ya make her drink?” Toji doesn’t ask so much as accuse the two women, who are quick to shut him down with the dirtiest of looks. Nothing new. Your friends never liked him, and the feeling’s mutual.

“Make her?” Utahime huffs, rolling her sleeves over her elbows. “She’s the one who dragged us out on a Tuesday night. If anything, you’re the one to blame—you pushed her to it!”

“Senpai, calm down already.” Shoko lowers her friend’s fists. Out of the two, she’s the better one at acting like she tolerates him. “What did you fight over, anyway?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

With the way you stormed out the door in your finest high-heel shoe, black party dress, and red lipstick combo, he’d expect your lovers quarrel to make headlines by midnight.

However, they both shake their heads negatively.

“Who knows?” Toji flashes an oblivious smile before he gets you going. You were so angry at him earlier, and in all honesty, he did cross a line or two, but it doesn’t feel all that important now. Come tomorrow, this will become just another entry in your record of petty arguments to look back on and laugh at.

You’ve made it halfway up the slope that leads to your crappy apartment building when he catches you flailing around on his back like a fish fresh out of water. He slots his hands into the crevices beneath your thighs, applying enough pressure so that you won’t fall.

“Rise and shine, sleepy-head.”

Your slow blinks turn rapid the second you realize your feet aren’t touching the ground and you’re piggybacking on a stranger. “W-Who are you?”

“Ya don’t remember?” Toji rolls his eyes with a loud tsk. “What was it again? Mister Taxi? Mister Killjoy? Or Mister Buzzkill?” He goes through the different names you bestowed on him in your sleep.

“Mister… Buzzkill?” Your jaw drops slack on his shoulder, only for your palms to clap at his chest in excitement a minute later. “Mister Buzzkill, I remember! You kidapped me from my friends and spoiled our fun!”

“More like your friends got sick of your ass and called me to pick up the pieces.” He argues. “Hold on tight if ya don’t wanna fall. Climb’s steep from now on.”

Strength returns to your arms as they cage his neck. “Where are you taking me, Mister Buzzkill? Are we going to party?”

“Don’tcha think you’ve had enough partying for one night, princess?” He grunts. “We’re goin’ home.”

“Home? Whose home?”

Toji’s starting to miss the you that nags him about not soaking his dirty dishes. Alcohol always chips away at your mental capacity, and while he wants to be understanding, he can’t understand that which he’s never experienced for himself. “Our home, dummy.”

The epithet doesn’t faze you in the slightest. “Are you going to exploit me?”

“Prospect makes you happy?” You hum in return. “Fine. You can pay for the ride once we make it home.”

“But…” And you sound so sad that he cocks his head to peer at your face, glassy, puppy eyes welling up with fat tears that make him wonder whether he said something hurtful again. “I don’t have any money. My husband said we’re out of money ‘cause he—he gambled it away.”

The cogs in his brain are put in reverse, reminding him of the cash he snatched from your open wallet with the intention of waging it on a guaranteed victory and the little white lie you took at face value. You didn’t even give him the chance to explain that the bills were still in his pocket because the race was called off, and he let you run off to your friends without offering a single apology.

“I’m sure we’ll work something out.” Toji squeezes your thighs reassuringly. “Ya can pay me back in kind, too.”

“But my husband—”

“Your husband is a shithead.” He spits out, hoping that his remorse registers without leaving behind any actual trace of his words.

“You are so kind, Mister Buzzkill. Unlike him—my Toji.” The fingers of your one hand pull on your wedding band until it comes off. “Wanna marry me again, Mister…Toji?”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Toji catches the wedding band right before it slips from your fingers to the street. Part of him wants to scold you for being a scatterbrained nuisance, but the part of him that finds even your plastered form endearing comes out on top.

He slides the ring around the ring finger of his ring-less hand and pieces your hands together, holding onto them until you finally reach the front door and you’re sober enough to call him by his name.

“A’right, we’re here.” Toji declares once the key’s inside the hole.

He calls out your name and shakes you softly, but there’s no answer coming from you other than a single embarrassingly loud snore. He lets go of your legs and slowly puts your feet on the floor before hoisting them up in the air again, shifting to carrying you into bridal position. Your hands reach around his neck on their own volition, and he swears your lips curl into the softest smile when your nose pressed against his shirt.

He sighs, parting the hair that’s fallen inside your agape mouth.

“What am I gonna do with you?”

#toji x reader #jjk x reader #toji headcanons #toji drabbles #toji fluff #toji x yn #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro

[hawkins-losers]

Hi I’m not sure if your requests are loaded with asks but could you maybe to a billy x reader where she spends a lot of time with max and he gets jealous of the attention? Thank you for your time :)

I haven’t re-read this, so I apologize if it’s bad

-

Since you stepped into Billy’s life, Max saw you as a sister figure.

The first time she met you, she was very excited to finally meet the reason why she had to skateboard home every Tuesdays and Fridays. Billy had been reluctant to let her tag along when you were there. He said he didn’t want Max to rat out to his father that he was seeing someone, but you had a feeling that it was because he didn't want to mess up his ‘tough guy’ reputation and expose his soft side.

In your opinion, it was ridiculous. As if his thirteen year old sister would care if he kept his hand on your thigh while driving or that he called you ’babydoll’.

The day you met Max was on complete accident. Billy had invited you for the afternoon knowing Max would be out with her friends, but the morning blue sky turned an angry gray and rain started falling heavily, causing Max to come home early from the skatepark.

Billy had not been happy about her coming home early, but where else was she supposed to go? It was her home too. He almost kicked her out, yelling at the young girl to go to a friend’s house, but you stepped in and told Max she could stay.

After that, you and her slowly became close - much to Billy’s annoyance. She came to you for girl advice and would tell you all about the boy she liked at school - Lucas. Sometimes, you helped her put her hair into braids since her mother wasn’t great at hair and all of her friends were boys. Except El, but she didn’t know how to braid hair either.

You thought it was sweet. Her stepbrother, on the other hand, was a little jealous of all the attention and time you gave her.

‘’Are you coming here to see me, or her?’’ Billy asked, standing in Max’s doorway, interrupting a very important conversation about an upcoming school dance.

You rolled your eyes at Billy’s childish remark. ‘’Are you eighteen or five? Because right now, you remind me of a jealous five year old when someone plays with his favorite toy.’’

Max held in a laugh at your comparison, loving your smart-ass personality. If anyone could talk back to Billy like that and not get shouted at in return, it was you. Only you.

Billy scoffed. ‘’I’m not jealous. I just-’’ He shook his head, not finding anything to say, then left.

You and Max shared a look once he was out of earshot. ''He's totally jealous,'' you said at the same time.

-

Taglist: @broadway-or-noway @violetsleftfist @thelaststraw3  @cursedandromedablack  @Slashersimpfor  @savagejane1   @wh0reforbucknasty   @eddiemunson-slut   @slvdsjjk  @hehehehannahthings  @dreamdancers-world  @grace-loux  @iamharrystyleslover  @matildavol6  @Original_babababoo  @eddiemunsonbby  @notbeforelong  @lexi-2004 @violetrainbow412-blog  @tatespillows  @alwayslexii  @lilygreennn   @milkiane  @imahomeslice  @bunnygrl16 @cwritesforfun @marauders3rawh0re  @your-mom21 @parkersmyth @voguesir @milkiane @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @lilygreennn @alexxavicry @charlie-chick  @wandamaximoffs-deadchild  @horrorstreet  @rmeddar123  @Pastel-abyss-x @lil-tracys  @lanalanabanana @Sinclairlust  @luvmybbies  @chloepricesgrafitimarker  @inluvweddiemunson   @i-like-trains  

Billy Hargrove taglist: @irlganyuy @mystic-moonpie @italk2god @hope1869  @boomhauer @originalsoulcollector @zosia3666 @bubsonnobx @bonked-beyond-belief2 @evanstanwhore @chrisxevans-seb @jennilynn63 @sugar-simz @Minksblog @braelyn003 @forcemeanakin

#Billy Hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove imagine #billy stranger things #billy hargrove blurb #stranger things #stranger things imagine #clearing my requests

[archangeldyke-all]

Ik tumblr keeps eating ur asks and im so sorrrryyyyyy😭

Sevika and reader just getting cockblocked? Whether it’s by little fucker or Silco being a pain in the ass and calling Sev to ask her if she could come to work at random ass times of the night. Idk I still need a nap.

HAHAHHA i love this sm

men and minors dni

monday

"she's finally asleep." sevika mumbles as she walks into your bedroom. you look up from you book dog-earring your page and closing it, before tossing it on the nightstand table and opening your arms for your wife to launch herself into.

she does without hesitation, jumping into bed on top of you, nuzzling against your neck as you giggle.

"had to read jack and the beanstalk ten times." she groans. "it's the only one she likes right now."

"thanks for tucking her in tonight." you chuckle, kissing your wife's head. "she was driving me crazy before you got home from work."

"she musta had sugar at daycare or somethin'." sevika mumbles. you chuckle.

"or cocaine." you consider. with the way your girl was jumping off the walls when she got home, you honestly wouldn't be surprised. sevika laughs, then picks her head up to smile down at you.

"hi." she greets. you reach up and cup her face. "feel like i haven't had a chance to talk to you all day."

"hi, love." you murmur, sweeping your thumb across her cheekbone. "how was work?"

she grunts, rolling her eyes. "fuckin' busy. silco's got his panties in a knot about the quarter deadline coming up, he's driving me crazy."

you pout up at her. "you're so patient, y'know?" you ask. she smiles softly. "workin' with him all day then comin' home and takin' care of the little shit for me."

"it's easier to keep my shit together when you're around." she says, shrugging. you sigh happily, and pull her down for a kiss.

"i love you." you mumble against her lips. she hums, her hands wandering up your sides and under your pajamas.

"i love you too." she says as she starts trailing kisses down your neck. her hands are squeezing your tits, her hips are shifting against you slowly. you melt into the mattress beneath you.

"sev." you whine.

"mmhmm?" she hums against your collarbone, where she's sucking a hickey.

"i want your mouth on me." you whisper. she groans.

"fuck, that sounds like a plan to me baby." she growls as she starts pulling at your pants. you let out a breathy laugh, helping sevika strip you and pushing the blankets out of the way.

she pushes your shirt under your armpits, starts kissing down your chest-- stopping at each tit to give them a few bites and kisses before continuing her path downward.

and just as she starts nuzzling her nose against your happy trail, little tiny footsteps start running toward your room.

you both jump apart-- sevika helps you pull your pants up as you push her to the other side of the mattress-- and your door slams open the moment your ass is covered up again.

you look over your shoulder at your daughter, grinning and wide awake as she stares at you two.

"can we play hide 'n seek?" she asks, smiling. you huff.

"you're supposed to be asleep, little miss."

she rolls her eyes in a way that's so similar to sevika your heart does a somersault. "ma, sleepin's boring. i wanna play!"

you groan, and sevika snorts.

"'m gonna give her some melatonin gummies." she mutters. then, "okay, kid, one quick round-- and winner gets fruit snacks!"

little fucker squeals.

tuesday

"fuck, honey, jus' like that." sevika growls. she's got you kneeling in front of her, your face buried in her cunt as she fucks your mouth. "perfect fuckin' mouth, baby." she whines.

you groan against her, relishing in the way she jolts at the vibrations.

you got work off for the afternoon for a doctors appointment, but got a call this morning that your doctor was sick. so, instead of just going home after lunch, you decided to visit sevika at work.

you planned on just bringing her some food, maybe eating with her for a bit until she needed to get back to work.

but when you'd gotten to her office, you found that the entire crew was gone except her-- all out for lunch that she decided to stay in from, still exhausted from staying up all night with the kid last night.

and what were you supposed to do? the office was empty, your wife was tired and in need of a pick-me-up, and she has a lock on her door.

so here you are.

"jesus fuck, 'm gonna cum all over this pretty face." she grunts.

you clench your thighs together, close without having been touched, getting off on your wife's pleasure.

her hands tangle in your hair, pushing you closer to her cunt. and just as her thigh starts to shake--

"sevika!" silco calls from outside her office door. the handle rattles.

"you gotta be fuckin' kidd--" she's cut off by more rattling.

"sevika i brought you lunch!" silco cries again.

"i got lunch!" she screams through the door.

"why the fuck is your door locked?"

sevika groans, and you chuckle. she looks down at you, pouts, then bends over and kisses your lips.

"sorry, baby." she whispers. you giggle.

"sorry for you." you say. "you're the one whose gonna be horny all day."

she pouts as she pulls you up to stand, and you chuckle, leaning forward to kiss her lower lip.

wednesday

wednesday's have become your married-with-child date-night. little fucker's babysitter is a sweet teenager down the street, too busy with basketball and debate team on the weekends to watch her on saturdays or fridays. so wednesday it is.

most days you have the kid come over to watch your girl, all her toys are in your house, it's just easier than lugging all her shit down the street.

but tonight, you and sevika have cancelled your dinner reservation downtown just to stay home and fuck. so little fucker's at molly's tonight.

the second the pair disappeared from view, little fucker chattering on and on about various species of beetles while her babysitter nodded along, sevika pushed you down onto the couch and straddled your lap.

now, she's riding your strap slowly, hypnotically circling her hips on top of you as she puts on a good show. her hair's loose, she's naked and moaning louder than usual-- unafraid of little ears overhearing-- on hand on your shoulder to steady herself as she fucks herself on your cock, the other on her tits to tease herself even more.

"fuck, sevika, you're the hottest woman in the fucking world." you whine, leaning forward to kiss against her tits. both of your hands on her ass, guiding her movements. you bring one hand between your bodies, circling her clit. she shudders, her head falling forward.

"your cock feels so fuckin' good." she whimpers.

her phone starts to ring. you let out a weak whine. "don't you dare." you growl. sevika laughs.

"fuck no. feels too fuckin' good, baby." she promises, pressing her lips against yours. you relax against her lips, nipping her lower lip gently. she shivers.

the ringing stops, and then thirty seconds later starts up again. you both groan.

"don't!" you whine when she looks over her shoulder at the coffee table where her phone's buzzing. she curses.

"it's the sitter." she grunts.

you whine, and when she stands off your cock, you both whimper.

"hullo?" she asks, still catching her breath as she pulls the phone to her ear. her face drops, and you know just from her expression that you're not gonna be fucking any more tonight. "fuck. how bad is it?" she asks. then she grunts. "i'll be over in ten. yeah, thanks molly." she hangs up, tosses her phone on the couch, then looks over at you with puppy eyes.

"our girl's sick?" you ask. she nods.

"vomiting everywhere."

you groan. "we're never gonna fuck again." you whine. sevika laughs.

"don't even joke like that. if i get cockblocked one more time i'm just gonna fuck you in front of whoever's bothering us." she grunts as she starts to dress herself. you chuckle.

thursday

neither of you even attempt to fuck on thursday. you take the day off to stay home with little fucker, who's got a nasty stomach bug. the poor kid.

you're cleaning vomit and diarrhea all day, and by the time sevika gets home, you're starting to feel a little sick too.

sevika just cuddles you, feeds you soup and medicine, and puts you to bed.

you wake up in the middle of the night to her curled tight around you, in the same position you fell asleep in hours ago. you kiss her arm, your heart warm at your wife's endless care and devotion, and fall back asleep.

friday

you finally manage to get a quickie in on friday.

you find sevika at the stove, sauteing some veggies for dinner, and quickly wrap your arms around her waist, shoving one of your hands down the front of her pants. she gasps.

"wha--"

"kid's playin' with the little twins down the street. think i can make you cum before they come beggin' for popsicles?" you ask, your fingers quickly finding her clit. she whimpers as you start to circle it.

"fuck, i hope so." she grunts. you laugh against her neck, grinding your crotch against her ass. "just don't lemme burn dinner." she whispers.

you giggle, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "i've missed you." you grunt. sevika shivers.

"i've missed you too, shit. had a dream about fuckin' you last night."

you whine behind her, rubbing her clit harder at her words. your grinds against her ass get a little more harsh. "yeah? how were you doin' it?" you ask.

"had you face down ass up on the bed, my face and fingers buried in your cunt." she admits. you gasp, biting her shoulder.

"fuck-- i love when you fuck me like that."

"i-i'm so close." sevika whimpers. "it's been so fuckin' long, baby."

"way too fucking long." you agree. "please cum baby, feel like i'll go crazy if i don't see you fall apart soon." you whine. sevika's breath hitches. you continue. "wanna feel you shake, wanna hear those sounds sev, ple--"

"oh shit!" sevika cries, reaching back to grab you as she cums in her pants. her thighs shake, and you broaden your stance so you can hold her before she collapses from her jelly-knees.

"there you go, baby-- fuck, just like that." you mumble. "oh, oh sev, you're so fuckin' good for me, fuck." you whimper as you cum against her ass.

you're both silent for a few minutes, catching your breath. at one point, sevika reaches out and turns the burner off on the stove. you chuckle against her.

"i know it's morally wrong to drug the little shit, but can we please knock her out just for tonight so i can fuck you in the mattress like you deserve?" sevika asks. you burst into giggles behind her, kissing her neck.

before you can answer, the sound of a gaggle of neighborhood kids approaching your house wanders in through the open window. you groan.

"here comes the popsicle brigade."

taglist!

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