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#so in case you were looking for a sign to share what you think...this is it
lani-heart · 2 days
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|| series masterlist || next // previously ||
genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> kang yeosang x reader warning(s) -> smut, slight dollification, first time ?, oral ( receiving ), fingering, words -> 2.1K
abstract -> "Do you want to say yes? In being my mate?"
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yeosang's perspectvie
“I don’t know why you haven't made a move yet,” Wooyoung told me and I sighed. San and Wooyoung have given me the push to make her my mate. 
I wasn’t keen on sharing her… in fact, if I didn’t respect them I would try to keep her to myself. That idea just seems selfish now, especially after helping me. 
“You’re also in pre-heat” San said and I scoffed. I know it is getting worse as the days go by. Soon I'll have to trap myself in my room.
“Unless you decide on a heat hotel?” The suggestion made me sick. “No way, I’d rather masturbate my whole heat,” I said and they laughed at me...
“Yeosang, are you ready to go yet?!” I heard as I saw my little angel now in the outfit I picked out to take me to that stupid kennel. I may have told her in case I should get heat suppressants. 
“Good luck with the hormone pills,”
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“Are you sure you want the pills? I could set up an appointment for a hotel?” she asked and I fought off the urge to ask her to help me. Everyday it was getting more difficult with her scent and presence only making it harder for me. 
When we made it to the stupid facility I was taken into the doctor’s office. The one who doesn’t like me… because I bit him. 
Asking me questions of how im settingling, if there's any abuse, and my options of heat. “You don’t seem so sure of the pills” he said and I sighed. “I dont have another option” I said and he nodded. “You aren’t fond of other hybrids aren’t you” he said as he typed away. 
“No.” I said and he sighed. 
“Heat suppressants have side effects you know pretty well. You’ve been on them a lot, so a lower dosage is recommended but it won’t help your heat too much. You’re not fond of hybrids but you do well with them, I would recommend a heat hotel for you” he suggested and I didn't want it. 
“Though it is your choice as well as y/n’s,” he said and I didn't say another word as he led me back outside. “The pills should be ready in the morning tomorrow, good luck,” he said as she signed for my pills.
“Although, I would recommend looking into private organizations. With your social status and Yeosang being a purebred hybrid you could get him a mate” he suggested and I was frozen. A private mate… I've heard of these before. They suggested these… to my previous owner. 
“Oh? Yeosang, do you want a mate of your own?” she asked me and I wanted so badly to tell her yes. I wanted her to be my mate. 
I couldn’t answer.
“Yeosang, are you okay?” she asked and cupped my jaw to get my attention. “It was just a suggestion, but the pills will be ready tomorrow” he said and she nods as she grabs my hand to lead me out. 
“Yeosang, what happened?” she asked and I sighed.
“When did you realize you liked San?” I asked and her face heated up. “San? Well, I never thought of a romantic relationship with him. I wasn’t even looking for one, but his heart was coming up, and… he asked me to help him and asked me to be his mate. I realized I didn’t mind it…” she said and I chuckled. “How about Wooyoung?” I asked and she sighed. 
“If i’m being honest? Wooyoung was my crush during my school days, he was always taking care of me and in all honesty I always thought I wanted a boyfriend like him” she said and I smiled. They knew each other the longest… It was cute. 
“How about me… do you see me in any way like that?” she asked and she said nothing. “Yeosang, I don’t want you to think–” “Cause I like you. A lot actually, I think I liked you since you sat at the stupid apartment complaining that there was nothing in the fridge but strawberries, chocolate, and whip cream. '' I said and she stopped walking. We were now in front of the apartment building and she looked at me stunned. 
“I don’t want to intrude into your relationship with them… which is why I want to be on suppressants," I said and she sighed. “You’re my pretty hybrid, and I love you but I can't betray them,” she said and I chuckled. 
“Then talk to them”
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I didn’t know they didn't talk to her about it. 
I thought they suggested it and she just didn’t mention it to me. She has a big heart… I know she’s loyal to them. San even told me how she didn’t want to tell him her feelings for Wooyoung while she was his mate. 
I heard a knock. 
“Hello, angel,” I said and she opened the door, peeking in. “Can we talk?” she asked and I nodded. I was lying down when she came into my room looking nervous and looking anywhere but me. 
“You talked to them,” I said and she nodded. “San always does love leaving his scent on you… even if he wants me to tell you how I feel” I said and she chuckled “Since you’ve met me then?” she asked and I nodded. 
“You’re a pretty girl,” I said and noticed how her cheeks reddened. “You’re a pretty hybrid,” she said and I felt my tail move slightly. “Do you want me to help you?” she asks and I had to try hard not to jump on my desires. “Do you want to help me?” I asked and I could tell she was flustered.
“I would be your mate,” she said and peeked up at me. Those innocent eyes of hers will kill me. 
“If you’d like,” I said and she sighs. “How does it work? With other hybrids… they wouldn’t be your mate if you… uhm” she said and I laughed. “You’re right… but I like you. My body knows that so the desire in my head to claim you is there, do you want me to claim you as mine?” I said as I knew I stood up in front of her. 
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” she asked and I smiled. 
“I don’t want you to tell me you like me and regret it,” I said and she looked up at me. “I don’t think I would… I just don’t want you to think of me like her” she muttered and I scoffed. 
“How could I ever mistake you for her?” I said as I lifted her chin to look at me. 
“Do you want to say yes? In being my mate?” I asked and she looked up at me nervously and nodded. 
I’m gonna ruin you for them.
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no one’s perspective
“My beautiful angel, you're mine and i'm yours,” Yeosang said as he started pushing you on the bed to tower over you on his bed. He reached up to kiss you… it wasn’t desperate or fast. A soft and slow kiss that escalated almost like Yeosang wanted to savor your taste. 
All while his hands wandered off your hips higher until he reached your rib cage just below your chest. “Such a lewd sight for such an innocent thing like you… maybe I shouldn’t be calling you angel after this” he teased you. “So pretty… especially when I dress you up in these dresses and do your hair. You’re almost like my doll” he said as kissed down your neck to your cleavage and now to the waistband of your panties. 
“You’ve ruined them” he teased as he put a finger onto your clothed clit. A dark wet spot was visible to him and the more he touched the more you squirmed under his touch. 
“I need you to concentrate,” he said as he now gripped your hips tight and looked at your eyes. 
“I can edge you over and over again until you cum so hard you see white, or I can make you cum over and over again until you scream for me to stop,” he said, only adding to the wet spot on your panties. 
“Then again… you three were virgins so I don’t expect you to know too much,” he said with a smirk while you avoided his gaze. “I think i want to see these eyes of yours filled with tears”' he confessed as he put his hand on your neck just below your jaw so you could look him in the eyes. 
“What do you say, angel?” he asked and you smiled softly at him “I trust you,” you said and in Yeosang’s mind, he just wanted to ruin you. 
You made a mistake. 
He immediately dove down to your clothed pussy and licked you through the fabric he chose. He doesn’t want to admit it but he’s just as much of a pervert as San and Wooyoung. 
Wooyoung was easy to fluster… especially since recently Yeosang has been showing you what underwear to wear with certain clothes. As much as it was awkward for him to do so… it was normalized. 
Yeosang would sometimes tease the two saying what pair he chose for you to wear today.
Now being able to taste you through the pair he did choose this morning was making him harder than he’d like to admit. 
“Can I take this off, doll?” he asked, testing out what you were comfortable with in which you nod and he takes off your panties and bra leaving you bare. 
He kissed you pressing his body against yours as he groped your chest making you moan and whine into the heated kiss as he forced you to taste yourself.
When he finally pulled away a string of saliva connecting the both of you, he started marking you. Making sure that the mark he was making was gonna be seen by your two other mates. 
Everything for him was blissful… he never felt the need to actually want to enjoy having sex with people, but you weren’t just anyone. As he now lowered to suck on your breasts. His hands now lowered down to your clit. 
Not being able to control your moans and whimpers as he barely even toyed with you was music to his ears. His main goal was to stretch you out… despite having mated with Wooyoung who just like him was a canine he needed to make sure you weren’t gonna be in pain. 
He knew some people liked the pain… but he couldn’t imagine doing that to you. 
“If everything becomes too much, tell me to stop, okay?” he asks you and you nod as he now lowers himself to the source of his lust. Licking up your entrance into your clit was a lot more pleasurable than you expected. 
So when he pulled away you couldn’t help but whine, frustrated by the lack of contact. However, he pressed the tip of his cock against your clit. Moving slightly to add pleasure to your clit and coat you with his pre-cum. 
He looked at you waiting for permission. “I trust you, Yeosang” you stated confirming his thoughts as he slipped in slowly at first only the tip of his cock teasing you. Even though you weren’t a virgin and he didn’t need to fear hurting you, he wanted to make sure he didn’t cause you any pain from having to adjust to him. 
Slowly bottoming out has you gasping for air while he leaned down to meet your face. “I don’t even want to move… you feel so addicting” he confessed as he marked your neck some more. 
He started moving slowly, thrusting into you slowly with very little force to make your body bounce just slightly. It was enough to make you whine out and show him your frustrated expression. 
“What's wrong? I can pull–” “No,” you said while lifting your legs to wrap against his waist. He chuckled as he placed his hands on your chest and he started thrusting out of you, eventually leaning back at an angle that made you feel something that neither San nor Wooyoung achieved. 
Moans getting louder when he was pushed out and a gush of liquid squirted out of you… he only chuckled leaving you confused at what happened while he lowered down to lick up your mess and finger you. Hitting the same spot… “Yeosang… no don’t–” you couldn’t stop him when it happened again and he rubbed your clit through it. 
You were starting to get tired… you came twice times and he hasn’t came once. 
Deep in thought he slapped your clit lightly to make your body jolt and you to look at him shocked with a sharp moan. 
“What are you thinking about?” he asked and you sighed. “Are you enjoying–” “Never ask me that, I can go for many more hours… I just want to have fun with you first” he said sadistically. 
“I wanna corrupt my little angel” 
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please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3
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esyra · 5 months
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After the hospital bombing, I finally heard back from my grandmother and confirmed that several of my relatives were murdered by Israeli bombing. Seven of them, to be precise. Three are still going, including her. We've been talking constantly ever since.
Asked if it was possible to head south, and was told they did but were also bombed there. So they decided to go back home, in Zeitoun. Their home was bombed and they were pulled out of the rumble, then driven by ambulances to the al-Ahli Arab Hospital. There were people in every corner. Gazans sheltering, sleeping on the floor. Gazans dying on the floor, waiting for beds.
Four were declared dead on arrival, three were in need of surgery and other three were just bandaged. Then, a bomb was dropped in the parking lot that made parts of the ceiling collapse, like Dr. Ghassan Abu Sittah reported in that horrific conference/interview. Those in need of surgery died.
By the way, just in case you didn't know: the Church of Saint Porphyrius, the third oldest in history, bombed by Israel a few days back, was located near the hospital.
When looking for new shelter, they saw schools with signs hanging outside, "We can't take any more families." They met families, sympathetic but already sheltering too many people. They're now staying in an apartment building they found empty. Sleeping in the corner of the living room. If the family comes back, they'll apologize and leave.
Told me she was saving her phone battery for when the bombing stopped, and she had to ask for help to rebuilt the neighborhood. But she doesn't think it's gonna stop anymore. The ones still with her are mute most of the time, like they're saving energy, but she feels lonely and wanted to talk. There's no internet and to connect to WhatsApp, people are buying "a card from the supermarket, there's a password and username." Not sure what she meant. Still, the internet is inconsistent and won't load neither videos or images nor pages, so she doesn't know what's happening on the outside world.
Told her there were a lot of people protesting to stop the genocide, she replied, "The bombings are getting worse by the day." The bombing yesterday was the worst she ever witnessed. The entire neighborhood is infested with the smell of death, of decomposing bodies. Bodies are piling up in the streets and she's not sure if it's because they ran out of places to store them, but most of them are in bags. The smoke of the bombings hide the blue sky—she hasn't seen the clouds for a while.
Asked if I could share their pictures, names and dreams with people and was told, of which I partly agree, "they're not entertainment." If anyone genuinely cared, they would be alive—I'd argue there are people who do care, but I'm not gonna lecture her pain. And they don't deserve to be used to fulfill someone's sick fantasy. Told me to remember what some Israelis do with pictures of dead Palestinians. And I do.
For those of you who are not familiar, many times before settlers got together to celebrate the murder of Palestinians. For one, in 2015, Israeli settlers set a house in Duma, West Bank on fire. An 18-month old baby, Ali Dawbsheh, was burnt alive. Both parents later died of wounds and only a 5-year-old, Ahmad, survived, although severely injured.
Two celebrations of their murder are widely known, one at a wedding and others outside the court in which two were indicted for the terrorist attack. In the wedding, guests stabbed a photo of the toddler, Ali, while others waved guns, knives and Molotov cocktails. Israel's Minister of National Security, Itamar Ben-Gvir, was present.
That's what happens in an apartheid. Palestinians are so abused by authorities that their "innocent civilians" come to accept the brutality as necessary or are desensitized by our suffering. After all, it's been 75 years—get used to it!
So I won't risk the image of my loved ones, in fear they are used in these kinds of depravity. I will say, though, the world lost a young footballer. Lost a female writer and an aspiring ballerina. Lost a kind father, who was also a great cook, and a loving mother that enjoyed sewing and other types of handicraft art. Lost a math teacher and a child that wanted to become one.
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People think Israel is testing new weapons on them. There's civilians arriving at the hospital with severe burns, which they thought was from white phosphorus, but apparently the pattern is different from the one caused by white phosphorus. It's widely believed Israel tests weapons in Palestinians.
Jeff Halper, author of War Against the People, a book on Israel's arms and surveillance technology industries, said: "Israel has kept the occupation because it's a laboratory for weapons."
They've ran out of drinkable water and the "aid" Biden sent was only for the South of Gaza and no fuel, for hospitals, was allowed in. Many shelves in the supermarket are empty. She said many are convinced that if they don't die from the bombing, they'll die from starvation or dehydration, or whatever disease will develop from the dirty water they're drinking.
Told me all people do now is pray, cry and die. Told me she hopes West Bank is spared. Told her Israel bombed a mosque in West Bank and dozens of Palestinians in West Bank are being murdered by settlers, so she bided me goodbye.
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impeakcharacterdesign · 4 months
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Just the Tip
— Thomas Hewitt x Fem!Reader —
MDNI!!!
Summary: It’s the 1960s and Luda Mae frowns upon premarital sex like any good Christian woman. You and Tommy are young, hot, and in love but the only problem is that Tommy was raised to wait until marriage and never lets you two go any further than kissing and some groping.
But the devil lives in the hot Texan sun and even God takes a break from the summer heat.
Notes: this is super short, just pure smut, self indulgent I’m obsessed with big boy Tommy 😭😭😭 i swear I’m working on part 2 of my sister Sinclair fic but Tommy has me in a choke hold and I needed an outlet.
No TW that I can think of other than bad smut and maybe ??? Coercion??? Cause Tommy wants to be a good boy and stop before y’all go too far but you flash him and then he’s absolutely 100% in. A bit of religious stuff, period typical sexism but vaguely. Let me know if I should add anything else and I’ll get right on it. Reader isn’t ever referred to using “she/her” pronouns but is described as having breasts and does have female genitalia so I tagged it fem reader to be safe
Enjoy!!!
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The early morning sun burned, chasing away what little cool air remained of the night before. While the barn shaded you from the unforgiving sun and hid you from disapproving eyes — or lecherous in the case of the older men of the family — it also trapped in the heat your two bodies gave off.
Thomas pressed his open mouth to your own, tongue swiping over your teeth eager to taste you. Your hands gripped his dark hair, ruining any half-effort attempt he had made earlier in the day to smooth down his unruly hair. He held you in his arms, body pressed tightly against him in an attempt to get as close as possible, his large frame hiding you even further from prying eyes than the shadowed corners of the old barn. The kiss was deep and hungry and served as a brief respite from Luda Maes ever watching eyes. While she had been fine with you living with the family before you and Tommy were married, she forbade you from sharing a room or being intimate, a rule she absolutely refused to budge on and one that Uncle Charlie took a strange glee in ribbing you about. But much like the Texan heat, the heated looks you gave each other were unavoidable and only grew hotter as the summer days went on. Luda Mae wanted to wait until the following spring to make your union official but at the rate the town was drying up, there wouldn't even be a priest to officiate the ceremony, much less any guest to attend. You highly doubted anyone outside of the family would want to witness your union anyway but still, Luda Mae didn't want the few who would to get wise and start counting months.
These stolen moments in the barn were as good as you could get — and by god were they good.
Tommy’s large hands groped at your breasts, pawing roughy at your nipples through the worn fabric of your old dress. It wasn’t long before you found yourself in the familiar position of being sprawled out on the barn floor, coarse hay a discomfort you had long learned to endure for the sake of pleasure.
You desperately thrust your sex up onto his growing bulge, whining when he groaned and pinned your hips with his own, preventing you from getting your desired stimulation. “Please Tommy,” you beg, lips separating, “We don’t have to do too much, I just wanna touch you.” You press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, pulling softly at the flesh with your teeth and tongue dragging across the bites to taste the salt on his skin. Your hands eagerly worked to untuck his faded green shirt and wrap around him, roaming the vast expanse of his back. His whole body shuddered in your arms, an attempt to hold back from eating you whole.
You know Thomas will put an end to your romp soon, the tense lines of his shoulders and the way he shuts his eyes a sign that he's reaching his limit, that if you two don't stop now you won't be able to stop — but that’s exactly what you want.
You're tired of holding back, of this constant edging you have to endure when you’re in his presence and it gets harder every day. Just yesterday afternoon, Uncle Charlie sprayed Tommy with the hose, telling him that he was filthy and needed to get out of those clothes before he went inside. Watching as he undressed by the back door so that you could put his clothes on the line to dry had nearly given you a heatstroke — and if Charlie’s leering grin was any clue, you swear he did it on purpose in an attempt to rile you up. You ran off before you sinned right there in the yard, the memory of Thomas's shirt clinging to his arms, his chest glistening with water had kept you company well into the night.
So before Tommy puts a stop to your roll in the hay you make your move. You lift your dress up past your breast and expose yourself to him, you can see his breath stutter in his chest, this was quickly becoming the farthest you two had ever gone.
“Just watch me, Tommy, watch me,” you say breathlessly.
And he does, he sits on his haunches like a predator, his engorged cock straining against his pants and imagining just a taste has your tongue darting out to wet your lips, his gaze fixated on the movement.
Sliding your panties off your legs, your fingers dip briefly into your wet hole, gathering slick to rub onto your clit. At the very first touch, you let out a shuddering breath and you watch as his shoulders heave.
You begin rubbing your clit at an intense pace already turned on from the earlier heavy petting, not once breaking eye contact with Thomas as you do. With each moan you muffle you see his eyes grow darker with desire breathing with his mouth open as though he could taste your scent in the air. When he finally lets his cock spring free you let out your loudest moan yet. It’s better than you ever thought. His cock is thick and heavy, drooping slightly under its own weight but still undeniably firm. It curves slightly and you imagine that if it was inside you it would scrape against your walls in a way you've never been able to do with just your fingers.
Thomas grips his cock firmly and gives it a few tugs, eyes alternating between hungrily drinking in the sight of your blissed-out expression and your dripping pussy. You buck your hips, desperate to press your clit against your fingers and Thomas jerks his length even faster, rubbing his tip and spreading his precum on his hand.
God, you wished it was you that was touching him.
Thomas settles onto his knees and after a brief hesitation begins to shuffle closer to you. The sight of him crawling to you on his knees with his dripping length in hand made your pussy clench around nothing and you let out a whimper. You remove your fingers from your clit, feeling the heat radiating from his cock as he settles on top of you, legs spreading around his waist, your hips slightly raised and resting on his thighs.
The tip hesitantly pressed against your clit and your moan fills the small space before you can suppress it. This was better than you were hoping and it felt as though you were pressing against the boundaries the lord had set for you. Tommy’s eyes find yours looking for reassurance, asking without words, “Do you think this is okay?”
You find enough comprehension in your lust-addled brain to come up with a coherent answer, “It should be fine, I think,” you stammer out, “I mean, it’s not like — not like you’re putting it in so, it should be fine.”
You’re not overly familiar with the word of God outside of Sunday services and Luda Mae’s lectures, both of which you were forced to attend and spent tuning out in favor of watching the sweat build on Tommy’s brow while he worked through the window.
You think that if God could feel the weight of Thomas like you did, feel the heat like you could, you think he’d forgive the sin of your act.
It seems like that was all the reassurance that Thomas needed because no sooner than the words fumbled their way out of your mouth that he begins to drag the length of his cock against your slit.
God, if this is what hell was supposed to be like, burning and full of decadence, then perhaps you didn’t mind being a sinner.
The way he ruts against you is euphoric. Heavy breaths escape you both and you can’t help the words that spill from your lips.
“God, Tommy, I wish you would put it inside me,” you whine out “‘wanna feel your fat cock in my pussy, wanna get filled,” you might as well be begging at this point, and Tommy's increases his pace to the point that you think he wants the same thing, that he’s desperate to thrust into you rather than against you and —
And then the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you both stop breathing.
“Maybe — Maybe it doesn’t count.” You stammer out, “It didn’t go in and it’s just the tip, and I don’t think that the tip counts” With the slightest twitch of his hips the tip of his cock has slipped inside.
"It's - it's just the tip it's fine” Your words sound empty even to you but the reassurance is all Tommy needs to push forward and let the head of his cock slide into your welcoming heat
His soul nearly leaves his body when he feels your raw pussy on the head of his cock. He jerks his length furiously and your fingers begin to move against your clit again, eager to meet your high with Thomas.
But it’s not enough. He was right there, right there just one push of his hips he’d be right where you needed him
“Please Tommy” Canting your hips slightly so the tip begins to dig deeper into you, you begin to plead once more, “wanna feel you fill me up, wanna remember the shape of your cock please”
Thomas feels years of control break at your words and with one swing of his hips, he bottoms out instantly. You feel like you've been punched in the gut as the air rushes out of you and you let out a sound like a wounded animal. Tommy stays still deep inside you, shaking and heaving, absolutely drunk on the feeling of your soaked walls clenching vigorously around his length.
You feel full in a way you've never thought possible. His length throbs, its girth stretching you in a way that burns.
When he finally starts thrusting, you’re not ready. He’s like a man possessed, solely focused on the feel of you around him, your skin pressed against his, his blood pounding in his ears.
“Wait— Tommy, ah, slow — slow down, oh god!” You can’t hold back your moans and he can’t stop, both fully engrossed in the feel of each other with no control over your own lust. Thomas crashes his lips onto yours in a halfhearted attempt to keep down your moans, it’s sloppy, clashing teeth and drooling tongues, spit escaping your lips, unlike any you’ve shared before.
This is completely different from what you’ve imagined your first time together would be like. It’s not your wedding night, you're laying on the dirty barn floor and there’s absolutely nothing gentle about the way Tommy is ravaging you. Your pussy is sopping wet and with every thrust, it lets out an embarrassing squelch, your juices and Tommy’s pre-cum leak down your ass and make a sticky mess in his dark pubes.
He doesn’t stop even as your walls spasm around him, cumming on his cock and digging your nails into his strong back. He works you through your orgasm even as your mouth clumsily forms the words to beg for him to slow down or to give you a moment. It’s too much, the sensations completely overloading your brain and all you can do is hold on tightly to him, lost in the ecstasy of your release.
Thomas lets out a deep, guttural groan as he cums, hips stuttering as he bullies his fat cock into the deepest part of your sex, filling you to the brim and your vision goes white.
Boneless, neither one of you makes a move to separate from the other, so thoroughly satisfied and content to lie where you are holding each other, Thomas’s softening cocking slipping out of you and spilling his release onto the ground.
His weight on you is comforting, you gently press kisses to his face and bask in the way his heavy breaths caress your sweaty skin.
“I love you.” You whisper into the shell of his ear and he squeezes you against him, repeating the words in his garbled voice the best he could. Your love is just for the two of you, no one else had a place in your world, no one else had the right to peak in on your affection or gawk at your differences.
This moment in time was just for the two of you.
“Thomas! Where the hell are ya, boy!”
Well, until Uncle Charlie’s voice brought you back down to reality.
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signedkoko · 2 months
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Could I get a Mammon, Vox and Husk with a S/O who gets harassed on the street and their reaction? You can have full creative control over what type of harassment!
I love your fics- if this isn’t getting the creative juices flowing just let me know and I’ll request something different <3
🦷 anon
Husk | Mammon | Vox [Romantic]
In which some loathsome idiot thinks they'll get away with harassing their beloved s/o.
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One of your favourite date nights is spent bar hopping
Pop a drink or two in each one, sometimes sharing one cocktail, his wing draped around you, your head leant on his shoulder, humming to the music surrounding you
Both of you had a preference for the less popular spots, the kinds of places you got the weirdest combinations, where he could be inspired and you could give him thoughts
The plus side of the smaller joints was that the music was never too loud, drinks were cheaper, and there was always a few spots free at the bar
Downside was that most places had their regulars, the kind of people who couldn't get in anywhere else
The kind of desperation that builds and spreads like mold in the corner of a dark room next to a leaky pipe
On a few occasions, someone would harmlessly ask to buy you a drink and would turn tail when Husk gave them his usually 'fuck off' look
But this time, the guy would just not get the hint
" What? Already claimed dibs on the bitch? "
Yeah- no, that attitude towards you is not going to fly
Not even three seconds and there's a bottle smashed on the drunk demons head, and three cards flying back into Husk's hand
That's when the bleeding starts
You slap a 20 down for your bill and jump straight up, already being dragged by Husk out the door
Insists if he stayed there you would have both gotten banned anyways, and he likes that spot
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You guys don't really go out so casually without a good reason, or just for old times sake
A sin and his spouse on a city street in greed was just asking for bad things to happen
But still, if you asked and he had nothing that day, Mammon would always rather get quality time with you and people watch
Thats most of your conversation, pointing out demons and joking about what you think they are like, what the do, how they speak
It's always a fun game, until some newcomer saw you laughing at him and marched right up, clearly on something and clearly ready to have a go at someone
The moment he reaches for your wrist, his thumb falls to the floor, a messy and jagged cut the only sign of attack besides one of Mammons spider legs now revealed
Before he can even realize the pain or what's happened, Mammon lets out a menacing laugh
" Every extra inch towards my broad is another finger. "
That demon was already screaming and running away, most the crowd on the street that was watching now hurrying in any direction opposite of you and Mammon
" I'm only worth one finger? "
" Nah. Just being generous for once. "
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Not really a street guy, but unfortunately some press conferences and events require mingling and interacting with others, which he never liked
Thankfully, with you he has an excuse to stay away from others, or show you off
He usually goes for the latter
He's all 'Have you met my wife?' 'My wife loves x and y!' 'Isn't my wife absolutely gorgeous?'
You are the first topic he speaks of after his company; you'd be the first if he didn't have to waste so much time being a salesman, but that is how the cookie crumbles
Sometimes when there's specific press releases, he has to send you off for a moment, where you usually go and mingle with some of the others in his industry you befriended
During one such interview, he couldn't help but spot out the corner of his eye, some lousy business woman drape her arm around your waist and grab at your hip
" Sorry yeah, this interview is over. "
Literally shoves his way over, sparks and electricity flying, to rip you out of her arms
" Baaabe, is this a friend? Whatever the case, we really gotta get going! "
Jealousy 3000
He's glad he stepped in after he overhears that lady had a habit of harassing other attendees
New clause in every interview; they have to include you or provide security over you while he is busy
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Author's Note - Tooth anon comes in for another PIPIN HOT request!! I actually feel so bad because every time I take a break form writing is on yoru request and that really makes it look bad I am so sorry 😩
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foxy-eva · 7 months
Text
Stress Relief
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Summary: When Reader complains about back pain, Spencer offers a massage. Things escalate. 
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Category: Smut 
Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) a little bit of awkwardness, massages, implied hand kink, heavy kissing, fingering, handjob, unprotected penetrative sex
Word Count: 3k
Masterlist
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It wasn't the first time your team had to double up in a hotel while working on a case but you had never ended up being paired with your favorite coworker before. When you stepped into the room after a long day of trying to save lives, you suddenly realized something. 
Spencer was right behind you when he saw it too, mumbling an almost inaudible, "Oh."
Oh. 
There was only one bed. 
The receptionist had already let you know that they were completely overbooked, so switching to a different room was no option. 
Spencer was quick to offer solutions as he started rambling, "I know Morgan said he wouldn't share a room with me but maybe he'll change his mind if I explain this to him?" 
"Don't you think it's more likely he'll tease us? Besides, that would leave me with Hotch and I'd rather share a bed with you than with my boss."
Spencer shrugged and mumbled, "I always liked to double up with Emily. I wonder why she insisted on sharing a room with JJ." 
You looked at him with raised eyebrows and a smirk on your face. "Yeah, who knows!" 
You did know but Spencer was as oblivious as ever. If he was really that bad at seeing what was right in front of him, there was at least a chance that he hadn't yet caught onto your feelings for him either. You really hoped that tonight any improper thoughts you had would be drowned out by the exhaustion slowly taking over your body.
"I can sleep on the floor," Spencer voiced his final offer. 
You shook your head in protest. "The bed is big enough for the both of us."
With that it was settled, you were going to share a bed with the man who had been occupying your mind an almost embarrassing amount. Spencer, however, had never once shown any signs that he reciprocated your growing feelings for him. So instead of addressing them, you decided to simply suffer in silence until they'd pass.
When he stepped into the bathroom to get ready for the night, you couldn't stop your mind from racing to fantasies far from being appropriate. It didn't help to hear him turning on the shower because now all you could think about was tearing your own clothes off to join him. Somehow you managed to keep your composure - for now at least. 
Spencer looked absolutely adorable with his washed-out Caltech shirt and checkered pajama pants, so much so that you took several seconds to blatantly stare at him when he came back into the room. It caused him to look down at his body to make sure that everything was in place. 
“Sorry, you just look really… cute like that,” you muttered to help with his confused look. 
A slight rosy shade spread over his cheeks at your compliment and he looked at you as if he wasn’t quite sure if you were making fun of him. But of course your words were genuine. 
As you gathered your things to go take a shower yourself, you snickered, “It’s a shame that outfit probably wouldn’t pass the FBI dress code.” 
He took a book out of his bag and sat down on one side of the bed, chuckling, “Yeah, it definitely would not pass.”
The shower helped clear your mind and you were positive that you’d be able to go to sleep without any other distractions. As you approached the bed in your usual nightwear - a tanktop and some colorful shorts - it became obvious that Spencer was even worse at hiding his staring than you were. 
“It’s weird, right?” You asked as you sat down on the bed. “Seeing each other in casual clothes, I mean.”
Without saying a word he just nodded before focussing back on his book again. As you leaned against the headboard of the bed you noticed something that had been bothering you all day. Your back was aching and your shoulders were painfully tense. You stretched your arms over your shoulders before you reached back to massage some tender spots on your neck. 
“You okay?” Spencer asked as he turned his head to watch you. 
“Yeah, it’s just my back pain. I slept weird last night and I have been sitting at my desk too much those past few days,” you explained. 
To your surprise, he offered, “Maybe I could help?”
Before you could consider what feeling his hands against your body would do to you, you replied, “Yeah, that would be nice, actually.” 
You readjusted your position until you sat cross-legged on the bed with your back facing your roommate for the night. Spencer set aside his book and sat behind you, tentatively putting his palms on your shoulders. The heat his body radiated entered your body and lit a spark inside you that you desperately tried to ignore. 
When he began pressing his fingertips into the tense muscles of your shoulders and neck, you instantly became pliable under his touch. The places he touched were innocent but that didn’t change the fact that a familiar warmth spread through your body and collected in your center. 
There was no way to hold back the shy moan from falling from your lips when he found a particularly tender spot. 
He halted his motions to ask, “Did I hurt you?”
“No, it just feels really good,” you breathed. 
“That’s nice to hear,” he cooed in the softest tone you’d ever heard from him. “You deserve to feel good.” 
Those last couple of words echoed in your mind before you could grasp what they meant. It was that moment that you asked yourself if the innocent and shy Spencer Reid was trying to flirt with you. 
To distract yourself, you decided to talk to him - unaware what colossal mistake that was going to be.
“So, where did you learn how to give back rubs?” 
Nonchalantly as ever, he responded, “I read a book about it a few years ago.” 
“You read a book about massages?”
The breath he let out at your question tickled the skin of your shoulders and you broke out in goosebumps. You hoped that he wouldn’t notice. 
“Well, it was about tantric practices and there was a very interesting chapter about… uhm… full-body massages,” he explained, not helping with your current situation at all. 
It was getting almost impossible for you to form coherent sentences, even more so when Spencer continued talking. 
“Are you interested in that?”
Almost jumping at his words, you blurted out, “In getting a full-body massage?!” 
“No!” Spencer laughed. “In reading the book!” 
Before you could respond, you felt his hands wander down your back, lightly rubbing over your shirt. It was getting harder to focus with every second passing, too overwhelming became the need to feel more of him. 
“I’ll think about it,” you finally responded. 
Spencer’s fingertips brushed over your lower back, way too lightly to find any tight spots and you were wondering if he was trying to tease you at this point. 
His words brought you back to reality. “I can continue with my massage if you want but uhm.. your shirt is getting in the way.”
Without thinking about it, you stated, “I’m not wearing a bra.”
“I know,” Spencer chuckled. “I won’t look, I promise. Just lay down on your stomach.” 
The feeling of his hands on your body had left your skin tingling and you were yearning to feel it again. So without questioning his intentions or making sure his eyes were really closed, you took off your top and lay down on the mattress. Spencer kneeled beside you and began working his skilled fingers over your entire back. 
Any tightness from tired muscles slowly left your body but you felt another kind of tension growing in your core. When Spencer grazed the waistband of your shorts with his fingertips, a sigh escaped your throat. He didn’t say anything, instead he kept massaging you until there was no patch of skin on your back left unattended to. 
The second time he brushed over your waistband gave away that he was doing it on purpose. For a moment you thought that he might slip his hands right beneath it to descend further down your body. That thought caused you to unwillingly press your thighs tightly together to soothe the aching between your legs. 
Spencer must have noticed it, too, because he audibly let out a breath right at that moment. His hands were still on your back when a quiet moan left your mouth and you noticed that your hips had started moving ever so slightly, desperate to find some friction. You weren’t sure if Spencer had been watching you doing that until you halted those tiny motions. 
“Don’t stop,” he purred. “You look so pretty like this.” 
You turned your head enough to see him from the corners of your eyes. The hardness straining against his pajama pants was impossible to ignore but even more intriguing was the smirk spread over his face. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were dark and filled with lust. Seeing him like this suddenly let any restraint you had left vanish. 
“Please, Spencer,” you begged him to keep going. 
One of his hands found the side of your face to brush a strand of hair aside. He leaned down to place a soft kiss on your heated cheek before he whispered, “Tell me exactly what you want.” 
Spencer’s hands were all you could think about. Every fiber of your body was longing for him and you felt like you might combust if he didn’t grant you relief anytime soon. 
“Please continue and… go lower.” 
In an instant his hands were on your backside, greedily grabbing your soft flesh through your shorts. 
“Like that?” Spencer groaned. 
You tilted your hips to press your butt against his hands and slowly opened your thighs before you whimpered, “Lower.”
As his fingertips wandered over your thighs you felt how your arousal began soaking through the fabric of your panties. His hands dared to move underneath your shorts, grazing along the apex of your thigh. It was not enough to soothe your aching but enough to drive you wild. 
You moaned out his name before whining, “Take them off, please.” 
“You’re so cute when you get all desperate,” he chuckled in response. 
There was no more teasing then. When he finally grabbed the waistband of your shorts, you immediately lifted your hips so he could pull them down together with your panties. He reached between your thighs to finally touch you where you were burning for him. 
The realization of how aroused you were let a groan escape his mouth. His fingertips glided through your folds before focussing on your most sensitive spot while he purred, "You're so fucking wet." 
It was the first time you had ever heard him use a curse word, the sound of such crude language shooting through you like lightning. All your senses were on edge, you couldn't think about anything else but him. 
The sensation of his fingers moving over your sensitive pearl was somehow too much and not enough at the same time. You hadn't realized that you were grinding your hips against his hand until his words brought you back to reality for a moment. 
"You deserve to feel so, so good. Let me take care of you."
At that you point you weren't even sure what you were begging for when an almost silent "Please," made it past your lips. Spencer, however, seemed to understand. He let two of his digits enter you, finding no resistance from your body. As soon as you felt him inside you, you couldn't help but clench around him.
Slowly he began working his fingers against tight muscles at an angle that made you almost lose your mind. There was no more holding back the sounds of pleasure falling from your lips, so you buried your face into the pillow to muffle your moans. 
You felt Spencer's free hand brushing over your hair while he whispered, "Don't hide those sounds from me. I want to hear you."
With that you turned your head to the side again, just enough to be able to see his beautiful face. His smile was too much for you to handle, so you decided to close your eyes instead. 
The room filled with your moans and mewls and the sound of his hand relentlessly moving against your wet center. Within just a few minutes you were dancing along the edge of euphoria. Spencer noticed that, too.
"You're doing so good," he praised you. "Let go for me, sweet girl." 
You felt him moving over your swollen nub one more time before your body began to tremble beneath him. He helped you ride out your high with a few more skillful motions before he lay down right beside you. 
When he found your eyes, he whispered, "You okay?" 
Instead of answering him, you grabbed his wrist to bring his fingers to your lips. They were still coated with your essence when you took them in your mouth to suck them clean. Spencer stared at you in disbelief, almost as if he was witnessing some kind of miracle. 
You could still taste yourself on your tongue when you found his lips in a hungry kiss. He didn't waste any time to reciprocate your enthusiasm, his tongue meeting yours as the two of you melted into one another. There was no space allowed between the two of you, with your chest pressed hard enough against his you could feel his accelerated heartbeat. 
His palms began wandering over your exposed skin as if he'd never have enough of touching you. Your hand became curious as well, moving underneath the hem of his shirt to finally feel him without any barrier. It wasn't enough though, you needed all of him.
With joined forces you rid him of his clothes and took a moment to take in the beauty of the man in front of you. As your eyes locked once more you found the sweetest smile spread over his face. 
"You're so pretty," you breathed before kissing him again. 
"And you're so beautiful," he mumbled against your lips. 
His hardness was pressed firmly against your thigh and you could already feel the tip leaking onto your skin. A sneaky hand found its way between your bodies to touch him. Your fingertips found soft curls at the base of him before wrapping around his shaft. He felt hot and heavy in your palm and you noticed him twitching when you began moving your hand. 
Spencer gasped into your mouth once you reached his tip and his whole body quivered when you let your thumb swipe over it. Your kiss was interrupted by him panting against your face as you sped up your motions. 
"Look at who is getting desperate now," you teased him. 
He already seemed lost in the pleasure when he whimpered, "Feels so good."
Your hand left his erection to push against his shoulder until he was lying on his back while you snickered, "You know what would feel even better?"
As you began straddling his hips, Spencer's hands flew to your waist. 
He still needed reassurance before he let you continue. "Are you sure about this?" 
You nodded and promised, “I want you Spencer.” 
"I want you, too. More than you can imagine."
With your hand around his cock you lifted your hips to guide him to your entrance. As you sank down on him, Spencer moaned out your name. You took your time, relishing the sensation of him slowly stretching you open. Once he was fully inside, you could feel his heartbeat deep within you. 
As you began grinding your hips against him, his hands moved from your waist to your breasts to caress your soft curves. 
“You have no idea how long I have wanted you,” Spencer sighed.
You leaned down to find him in a kiss before you whispered against his mouth, "You have me now. I'm yours."
His hips began moving in perfect synchronicity with yours as you chased the sweet relief together. When you began moving faster, Spencer suddenly gripped your hips to halt your motions. 
"I'm so close. Slow down," he whined with desperation clearly audible in his voice. 
That didn't slow you down, though. Instead you purred, "Me, too," and kept going. Spencer threw his head back into the pillows and sang your praise in the form of his moans. You tried to hold on just a little bit longer, not to torture him but because you didn't want it to end yet.
When one of his hands descended from your hip to where your bodies were joined, you knew that it wouldn't be long now. He began drawing small circles with his thumb around your little bud, throwing you over the edge within a few seconds. Once he felt your walls pulsing around him, he let go himself. 
Each of your twitches was answered by him throbbing inside you, sharing his essence with you until he had nothing left to give. Spencer welcomed you inside his arms as you collapsed on top of him with a racing heart and lungs longing for air. 
You stayed connected for as long as physically possible but once he was soft, you felt him slowly slipping out of you together with the mixed evidence of your shared desire. Spencer insisted on helping you clean up the mess between your legs and was quick to get a damp towel from the bathroom.
Watching him carefully rid you of any remaining stickiness somehow felt even more intimate than anything you had done before. Neither of you bothered to put clothes back on, instead you cuddled up under the comforter together to savor the sensation of having each other near.
When you thought back to what led you into Spencer's arms earlier tonight, you couldn't hold back your giggles. 
"Maybe I should read that book you mentioned." 
"You can, if you want," Spencer chuckled before he began kissing along your neck. When he found your ear, he whispered, "I'd much rather show you everything it says, though."
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Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @justreadingficsdontmindme @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @pauline5525mgg @sanaz1dlol @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @beepbooptoop @lovejules888 @liltimmyst @encyclo-reid-ia @lilibet261 @fandomstuffff @spencer-reid-wonderland @happymangospot @conniesanchor @reaux02 @ellamaianderson @cynbx @dashneydanger @melifluorei-d @bitchassbecky691 @iameternallylonely @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @amititties @castiels-majestic-wings @torigorie @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @reidtopia @velvetthunder93 @cncoxlifeline @jordie-gvf-admin @saturnstringz @missabsey @spencerslove @guacam011y @whoopdy-doo @hugyourlungs
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hee-pster · 8 months
Text
。゚゚・。・゚゚。 ゚。 two best friends in a room — sjy ( m )
 ゚・。・゚
pairing: roommate!jake x fem!reader
genre: smut
summary: is it awkward for two best friends to watch p*rn together? well, you’re currently ovulating and thus, you don’t think so
word count: 3.9k 😀
warnings: dom!jake, mentions of watching p*rn, unprotected s*x, rough s*x, slapping k*nk, brief bl*wjob, Jake and y/n are both pervs, f*ngering, brief p*ssy eating, pet names, making out, dry h*mping, begging, teasing, lmk if there’s more but this is nasty
notes: my intention was to write out a small drabble but I ended up writing this filth instead, this may be the wildest thing I wrote for any member, I hope you enjoy ♥️
༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚ ༯
What are two best friends supposed to do when one catches the other watching, erm, p*rn?
a) pretend to have seen nothing
b) freak out about it
c) join them
For you the correct answer was obvious — you’re a girl in ovulation, your brain works on high level of estrogen and the only thing you were able to think of for these past days has been, uhm . . .
. . . has been dick.
So when you accidentally catch your best friend — Jake, who happens to be your roommate, watching it in his room, sitting on his comfortable bed with his eyes solely focused on the big screen of his tv, you do not hesitate to get inside and join him.
Now you’re sitting side by side, sharing his bed as you watch that gorgeous lady with long black hair get railed in the pool by her husband’s best friend — yes, Jake does have a questionable taste it appears — not speaking a word to each other as if this is such a regular activity for the both of you.
In Jake’s case, he’s so baffled that he has no idea what to say — I mean, what is there to say?
Embarrassing enough, he just got caught to his roommate, who is a girl, while watching corny stuff and this wasn’t exactly something he could explain.
He’s horny, so fucking horny, that’s all.
But you — honestly, what the hell are you doing?
If it was any other girl — hell, if it was any other human being, they’d either freak out or walk out, because that’s the normal way of reacting to this messed up situation.
But you, what did you do?
Instead of doing either of those things, you walked right inside, jumped on his bed, sat right next to him and started watching the extremely inappropriate scenes with the same devotion as Jake’s.
He looks over you, wow, you’re completely immersed.
You haven’t spoken a word to him since you’ve arrived, and it has been good fifteen minutes, he’s having a crisis.
Because why do you look so comfortable? How do you look so comfortable?
He’s over there, curled up to a corner on his own bed, in his own room as he grows unhealthily big underneath his pants — which feels more uncomfortable by the passing minute.
He needs to jack off, he needs to relieve himself but you make it impossible for him, and he wants to know why.
But just when he’s about to open his mouth to start a conversation, he stops, ‘cause holy fuck, you’re touching yourself — as in hands buried in your shorts, fingers making wet noises while they slide in and out of you type of touching, without a single care in the world.
Is he invisible to you?
Or are you trying to give him a sign?
Shit, he can’t think right now, he’s too focused on your hands, so much that he forgets about the literal porn on his tv, watching you is so much better.
He bites his lips and reaches to his bulge, dark eyes focused on you — on your face, and the way it twitches so beautifully as you fuck yourself with two of your delicate fingers.
He starts playing with himself over his clothes just like you do — one hand on his balls, massaging them slowly as the other rubs his hardness throughly, from the bottom to the top.
When you moan he curses, feeling himself leaking inside his boxers. Great, as if he couldn’t get more embarrassed tonight.
But you don’t react. All you care about seems to be the adult movie playing on the screen, guess she’s really horny too, he thinks, for some reason finding it impossible to believe.
Because he’s known you for years, has been your roommate over a year and not once, he’s seen you like this before.
Don’t get him wrong though, he’s not complaining, he’s totally a fan of this new side of you he had just discovered.
You look so hot this way, gosh, he needs more stimulation.
Therefore he slides his sweatpants down, only a bit to allow himself some space to sneak his hands inside his panties. With the strong grasp of his large palm, he hisses, a breathy “ah fuck” falling from his lips.
Thus, he finally gains your attention, the one he’s been seeking desperately ever since he moved in with you, and the one he’s been in denial of for too long now.
You turn your head his way, following the direction his hands go. They’re buried inside his pants and all you can see is the outline of his knuckles underneath his black calvins as he pumps himself furiously.
Your mouth waters, his dick, you fucking crave it.
And you need to have it, right here, right now.
So you scoot over, closing the safe gap between your bodies. He follows you behind half open lids, nervous about what you’re going to do next, because he knows that he’s not strong enough to say “no” to you.
“Do you need help with that?” You ask, being the first person to break the unbearable silence.
“Kind of.” He briefly says, and god, he’s barely holding himself from jumping on you like an animal right now.
He wants to fuck you so bad — so raw, so nasty and so hard.
Lucky for him, you’re not feeling any different.
“Can I?” You innocently ask as you reach for his pants, eyes pleading at him for permission to slid down his pants.
He’s not the one to turn down such a generous offer so he approves with a nod, letting you have your way with him.
Once his cock plops out, you audibly moan at the sight. It’s the prettiest one you’ve ever seen, so veiny, so red and tip leaking with cum. It begs to be sucked and you’re not the kind of girl to just ditch that.
And as if Jake can hear the thoughts you’re having, “Go on.” He says, cupping your chin to bring you closer to his aching length, giving you the allowance you terribly needed.
Shooting him the cutest smile ever, you lean down, and start with his base. You pepper small kisses down on his sensitive skin as you gently rub his head, smearing the leak to his shaft.
Then you give him a long lick, from where you began to all the way up, reaching to his slit. As you suck on his tip, you look up, wanting to see his reaction.
And his face, it’s carrying the hottest expression ever.
His plump lips, they’re cherry red and parted as he lets out tiny whines here and there, his eyes are half lidded and dark, while his hair his pushed back, a few messy strands falling before his eyes.
His chest is heaving up and down with each deep breath, he really wants to just wrap a hand around your hair and mercilessly fuck your throat right now, but he waits.
He waits for you to lead him on, he waits for you to set the pace.
And you can view how impatient he is from the way he stares down at you, it’s so clear on his face, splattered all over his beautiful features — lust.
That’s something you both feel in common.
So you bob your head down, sinking a little more on his dick. The deeper you go the harder it gets to control your gag reflex, and as you force yourself to reach even lower, your throat clenches around him deliciously.
After a flow of tears wetting your blushed cheeks, you calm yourself, and attempt on taking him as whole in your mouth. And although you can no longer feel your jaw, you succeed, your face resting flat against his crotch.
He takes this chance to wrap your silky hair into a messy ponytail, and it takes everything in him not to pound into you right now, you’re so pretty.
But you’re passionate as well, not moving an inch from your spot although your face is turning tomato red, and you no longer can breathe. It seems like you’re challenging yourself with his cock, and your stubbornness is forcing you to the point of suffocation.
Which is not something Jake can’t allow.
So he uses the hand crafted ponytail and pulls you off of himself with it, reminding you to take deep breathes as he cleans away the coat of spit from your chin and neck.
“Shh, you’re alright.” He whispers, leaning in for a soft kiss on the lips after he makes sure you’re finally breathing the proper way.
But that soft kiss turns into a heated one, and then into a messy one with your tongues fighting each other over dominance, all thanks to how horny you both are.
And the next thing you know, you’re sitting on his lap, grinding against his bare girth as you make out, hands all over each other like you’re trying to discover one another.
He’s so eager, you can tell by the way his big hands fondle your ass inside your shorts. His grip is so strong that it hurts, but you don’t dare to stop him from doing what he does.
You’re too drunk with the feeling in between your two legs — the friction has you cloudy minded, and unable to focus on anything else.
He feels so good, he feels too good to be true.
And it makes you wonder just how great it would feel to have him inside you, to have him fucking your tight hole loose all night long.
Ah, you can’t bear to wait anymore, you want him — no, you need him now.
Luckily for you, he’s the same.
“Jake—”
“Y/n—”
Jake giggles, “you go first,” he says, nodding reassuringly.
You bite your lips as you hum and quickly get up from his lap, hands busy with your shirt as you try to clumsily take it off. You wonder what he wanted to say as you toss it on the floor, and start tugging your black shorts down.
“I was wondering, uhm, if you could maybe help me with my bra ..” you mischievously say, a small grin spreading on your pretty face, “ .. oh and with my panties as well, if you don’t mind?”
Jake stiffens up at your bold request for a second, he’s flabbergasted, you just flustered him. But he swiftly snaps himself out of it, and scoots over to the edge of his bed.
Of course he does not mind, are you crazy?
He reaches for your panties first, it’s baby pink, he can clearly see the way you drenched it. And for some reason he feels proud about it, because never even if he was given a million years, he’d think of seeing you like this — so needy for him.
He takes his time sliding the dampened clothing down, curious eyes patiently waiting for what’s about unveil before them.
And when he’s done, he lets you kick it away with your feet before he sneaks a hand inside your middle part, then starts caressing your folds with his boney fingers.
You lift your one leg and place it on the bed to allow him more access as he pokes two fingers through your hole after smothering your wetness all over your pussy lips, gently pushing them in and out.
You feel so warm that he moans, the squeeze you give him is delicious, he wants to feel it more.
So he leans in and attaches his hungry lips to your clit, sucking on the sensitive piece of flesh with all his might. The way you clench even harder around his fingers in return does a good job satisfying him, but it also reminds him that the time is ticking, and he doesn’t have much left for his throbbing dick.
So he leaves the bed and rises on his feet, while pulling his fingers out of you. The empty feeling makes you sad but he makes sure to cheer you up with a small show he puts on, by bringing the said fingers that are covered with your arousal to his mouth and sucking them clean.
Both the lustful look in his eyes and the vileness of his actions burns your skin, you can feel your tight walls clenching around nothing desperately.
Then he moves to your back, to help you with your bra just like you asked, but that’s not the only reason he’s there for.
He unclasps your cute, pink bralette at one go professionally, and as he drops it on the floor, he pays attention on flattering you with compliments at the same time.
“So pretty,” he mumbles right against the shell of your ear as he fondles your gorgeous pair of tits from behind, thumbs fiddling with your already hardened nipples, “you look so pretty, all for me?”
“Mhm,” you softly hum, leaning your head against his shoulder, “all for you.”
Pleased with the answer you gave, he pushes you forward and bends you over his bed. He then slips out of his shorts faster than you can blink, and starts grinding his thickness against your now fully exposed ass.
He presses on the small of your back to get you stick it out more for him, and when you do he gasps, cursing out a husky “fuck”, because you quite literally own the prettiest pussy he’s ever seen.
And not only that, your waist — it’s so pretty that it takes his breath away, you look like a piece of art and he’s almost unsure whether he’s having a wet dream or this is all actually happening.
He decides that the best way to figure that out would be hearing your beautiful whines so, he lifts his hand, only to land the sharpest smack on your right cheek with it.
A weak whimper of his name is how you respond to him, and yes, looks like this is all very real — you’re very real.
He leans down to kiss the spot he just hurt, murmuring out a small apology against your reddened skin. Then he trails his kisses up to your waist, to your shoulders after that, finally reaching your neck at the very last.
He brings his hands and intertwines them with your delicate ones, the ones that were clutching on his sheets for dear life. He’s basically hugging you, with his whole weight on your back but instead of feeling awkward from such intimacy, you feel relieved.
You feel . . . belong.
“May I?” He asks, his tip poking right at your entrance, begging to be permitted, “Please?”
He’s such a gentleman, always kind with his requests, how can you say no to him?
“Yes please.” you whisper with anticipation, you’re nervous but excited, thrilled even. Guess that’s what ovulation does to a person, you think, and you’re very right — hormones are a no joke.
“Tell me to stop if it hurts, yeah?”
“Mhm . . . oh—”
And with that he pushes his head in through your warmth, sighing at the feeling. He wants to avoid being hasty so he takes his time, and gives you some space to adjust to his size.
He finds it incredibly cute that you’re already panting, your hot breath fanning against his plump lips. And if that’s not an invitation for a kiss, he doesn’t know what is so he inches closer, to seal your lips together with a soft kiss.
But what started of as soft turns into rough in mere minutes as he sinks more and more inside you, filling you up to the fullest, taking your head upon the clouds as he does so.
He can sense how you get lost in the way he makes you feel, and he decides to use this opportunity on his behalf so, without wasting a second, he starts moving.
His thrusts are gentle, small even as he makes out with you, hands still intertwined together like you’re more than just friends — like you’re lovers.
That’s romantic and to be fair, you kind of like it.
But as much as you’re down for a good vanilla, you really need him to go harder, faster and even deeper, you need him to quite literally rail you right now, that seems to be only way to cool down the heat you’re feeling.
“Can’t you go harder?” You manage to ask in between breathless kisses, and Jake smiles at your question, he thought you would never ask, “Please Jake, I need you.”
God, you sound so hot when you beg, he’s about to go berserk.
“As you wish, princess.”
The nickname leaves you flabbergasted as he pecks your lips one last time before he straightens himself up, and starts ramming his cock in and out of you immediately by your command.
You don’t know what makes your knees more wobbly — the pet name or the pace of his rhythm as he fucks you, but you have no complaints even though you can’t even carry your own weight with your legs.
“Better now?” He teases, because lets be honest, how can he not when he witnesses the way your thighs tremble with each hit of hips right in front of his eyes?
“Y-yeah,” you stutter, “m-much b-better.”
He chuckles at your response. It feels like you’re on the verge of breaking into two pieces but if that’s what you actually want, which seems to be the case, he’s not the one to hold back from giving you exactly that.
So he picks up the speed and bottoms out, so strong that he sweeps your feet of the floor as he lifts you up, pushing his cock balls deep inside your wet cunt.
“How about now?”
Cocky, he’s so fucking cocky, you hate that you love it.
“Fffuck Jake—”
You yelp and he laughs, enjoying your visible struggle way too much. But it doesn’t make him stop or slow down, he doesn’t have any intentions to make your job any easier.
You asked him to be harder after all, you should be able to take it, right?
“What?” He smacks you again, “Can’t take it, hm, angel?”
Angel? Shit, you want to scream. How come he’s calling you all the sweetest names while he’s fucking like a worthless slut?
Is he insane?
When you stay quiet, he asks another question, only to hear you stutter again because he finds it cute. You’re breaking apart for him but you’re too stubborn to admit it, he knows, that’s why he enjoys toying with you so much.
Yeah, fine, maybe it turns him on to tease you like that, whatever.
“Should I stop then, huh?” He says, grabbing a handful of your hair to lift your head up from where you have it buried on the mattress — he wants to hear you loud and clear, he can’t let you muffle down those beautiful noises you make now, can he?
“Maybe I should—”
“No—” you practically scream as you reach to your behind, holding on the arm he has around your waist so that he can’t move away, “please don’t, I’m so close,” you beg, choking on your words, “please Jake, please let me cum.”
Aww look at you, pleading to your roommate with your beautiful doe eyes to keep fucking you, isn’t that adorable? Jake’s heart melts.
“You’re gonna cum? Gonna cream my cock, hm, pretty?”
God can he please stop with the pet names already? What is he trying to do? Make you fall in love with him?
“Mhm,” you hum, giving him your cutest pout. It makes his dick twitch inside you, how can you be so fucking gorgeous?
“I’m gonna c-cream your cock Jake, p-please let me.”
How is he supposed to say not to you, when you’re asking for it so kindly? Hhh, seems like you won this time, because he has no chance of resisting you when you’re behaving so well.
“Go on then,” he coos, “cum for me baby, show me what a good girl you are.”
And as if he just casted a spell on you with those magical words, you reach your climax, shaking under the effect of the intense wave of pleasure that washes over you.
Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your limbs go limp, and if it weren’t for Jake’s strong arms holding you right now, you’d be laying flat on your face on the ground like a giant rock.
He helps you ride your high with comparably gentle thrusts, chasing his own high in desperation. Your legs are trembling and you’re letting out the weakest whimpers ever, chanting his name like a mantra which does the job and finally after a tortuous ten minutes, he pulls out and cums on your ass.
His seeds, they feel so warm on your sensitive skin, you melt more into the sheets.
And he chuckles at your worn out state, ah, you really shouldn’t have walked in on him. Because look at you, you’re done for, it’s game over for you.
Yet deep down, he feels grateful that you did because this was the best sex he’s ever had, really, no cap.
With the loud scream that comes from his tv, he winces, oh right — he totally forgot about the thing he was watching before all these happened, haha, how embarrassing.
He quickly moves to grab the remote controller and changes the channel to something random, taking a mental note to watch that adult movie sometime else — preferably when you’re out because the last thing he wants is to be caught, again.
Then he notices the shuffling noises that comes from you, he turns his head, and sees you trying to climb on his bed with your weak arms.
“Wait,” he shrieks as he rushes over, worried that you might fall and hurt yourself, “here, let me help.”
He guides you on his bed to lay on your stomach, “Don’t move,” he then says, “I’ll bring a towel to clean you up, ‘kay?”
And a few minutes later, right before you’re about to fall asleep, he comes out from his bathroom with a towel in his hand and a sheepy smile on his handsome face.
He can’t believe he just fucked you, and he also can’t believe you’re right there, about to sleep on his bed with him.
But wait, he can’t sleep now, no, not when his stomach growls like a monster — he’s hungry, oh god his stomach burns, he’s so hungry.
“So,” he lets out, awkwardly clearing his throat as he walks up to you, and sits on the edge of his bed, hands quickly wiping away the mess he made.
“Hm?”
“I was wondering if you’d like to, uhm . .” He coughs — oh god, he’s about to ask you the dumbest question ever, he’s aware, but he has no other choice, his stomach is killing him.
“What is it Jake?”
Okay, here he goes. There’s already nothing normal about this night anyway, what can he possibly lose, right?
“I was wondering if you’d like to eat ramyeon with me,” he blurts out, with all his seriousness as he swipes the final droplets of his pear white leak clean, blinking at you with his big eyes, “I’m really starving, you know?”
What?
What did he just say?
Ramyeon? That’s what he’s thinking after railing you?
He’s unbelievable, but also very relatable, hah.
“Sure,” you snort out, fair enough, you think, guess this is what you get for fucking your roommate, not that you regret doing it though.
“If you’re gonna do the cooking, then why not?”
©hee-pster on tumblr, do not plagiarize.
a/n: literally sacrificed my eyes to finish this up so if you like it, please leave a feeback friends 🫶🏼 also, sorry if there’s any typo pls lmk, I finished this at 2 am so 🥲 I might have missed it
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abbyshands · 1 month
Text
PALESTINE LINKS
in honor of the media blackout this week, i wanted to compile a list of links and resources regarding what’s going on in gaza. i advise all of you to give these links a look at, or to at least reblog them. the people in gaza need the bare minimum from us in that sense. &, well, if you can’t take enough time out of your day to give these links at least a look, a like, or share, then, bye !
& for all the the last of us fans out there, you need to see this. it’s genuinely a must. not to call anyone out, but i see a lot of people who have not spoken out about this at all, who, for example, keep publishing or reblogging fics etc during the blackout. i love a good fic as much as anyone else, but you can wait a week. there’s really no excuses here. if you didn’t know about the previous blackout, then now is your chance. don’t turn a blind eye to this.
at the end of this post are links specifically for those engaged in the last of us tumblr. if you aren’t going to look at the links before that, then at least look at those.
oh, & for the dumbasses who are unfollowing me for spending a week to post about a fucking genocide? fuck you, & good fucking riddance. you are not and never were welcome on my page. i don’t want you here anyways!
PALESTINE LINKS
SEVERAL ways you can help the people in gaza. some of which are fully free.
SEVERAL links regarding info around this genocide, such as places to boycott, and ways to learn more about the nature of it all.
SEVERAL ways you can help, including ways to donate, petitions you can sign, and campaigns you can join.
places you NEED to boycott. don’t buy from them, regardless of if they really fund israel or not. if they support them, that is more than enough. boycotting is a way to resist, so do it. at the end of this post are also places that are helping those who are in gaza, and families you can help escape by donating.
know that this issue did NOT begin oct. 7th. this is so much deeper than you know, and has been going on for 70+ years. click the above link to educate yourself on that front.
CLICK HERE TO HELP PALESTINE! this site has already been debunked on if it really helps the people in gaza or not, and it does. just one click is all you need. one button, once per day. you can even do it on different devices or browsers so you get more than one click in. click it daily!
CALL YOUR REPRESENTATIVES using this link, and this link (this will help you find ways to call or email them depending on where you live). also, urge biden and congress to do right by the people in gaza. the U.S. sends billions of dollars to israel every year, funding the genocide that’s ensuing as we watch on from the comfort our homes. do the bare minimum, & hold them accountable. please.
HERE ARE WAYS YOU CAN DONATE or find a PROTEST near you! not everyone is readily available to do these things, i know that. but looking into them could never hurt, or at least sharing it elsewhere so there is more awareness surrounding it.
LEARN OF AFRO-PALESTINIAN EXPERIENCES, & the efforts they have made over the years. i think it’s so, so crucial that we hear their voices, &, god, learning of all that they’ve been through, & all that they’ve done, is so inspiring.
here is some more info regarding BOYCOTTING. boycotting does, and has been proven to work. this post explains the subject a bit more in case it happens to confuse anybody, along w/companies and such that need to be boycotted, & why. as i said before, boycotting is a way to resist. so do it!
HERE IS A 🇵🇸 MASTERLIST including ways to educate yourself, donate, books you can read, & films you can watch. this is one of the best links i have regarding this genocide, and i highly recommend you look at it!
SOUTH AFRICA took israel to court for this genocide! read about it in the above link.
FOR THE LAST OF US FANS
do not remain in the dark about the last of us’s link to the ongoing conflict in gaza. neil druckmann, the director of the game, is a ZIONIST. he grew up in israel, and TLOU2 is rooted in israeli themes. now, no one is saying you have to quit playing the game, or dislike it, for all you dense ones out there. but i ask that you remain aware of this aspect of it, especially if you are regularly engaged in the last of us tumblr.
this is a link that i highly, highly recommend you read through. it discusses the HEAVILY ISRAELI THEMES TLOU2 displays. click the following link to learn more on TLOU2 & NEIL DRUCKMANN.
DO NOT BUY TLOU, TLOU REMASTERED, TLOU2, TLOU2 REMASTERED, OR ANY GAME FROM ND! neil druckmann has donated money to the IDF in the past. & where do you think he’s getting his money from? yeah, you got that. watch gameplays, pirate these games, or buy them secondhand. several shops sell used games. & for those of you who went and purchased the game anyway, knowing about all of this? fuck you.
if you think your $10 doesn’t matter, then think about this: okay, one person spends $10 on the game. whatever. but when 100,000 people do it? that’s a million dollars, going into the hands of a zionist, who is using YOUR money to help kill innocent men, women, and children. put that in your pipe and smoke it.
it is not just the games you need to boycott. HBO’S show also needs to be. follow this link to learn of more movies and shows you need to boycott, & the reasons why, including the last of us. let’s also not forget that dina & abby’s actresses are in support of israel, and BELLA RAMSEY, ellie’s actress, has also shown support.
boycott. the fucking. show. there are a million websites where you can pirate it, so you are not giving any of your support to it. resist.
i understand that not everyone is educated on this subject, and that not everyone knew of the previous media blackout. for the last of us fans, i understand that not everyone knew about the game or show’s israeli nature. but it is never too late to take part. it is never too late to care. i promise you that. if you purchased the game, at least donate to one of the sources above. that’s just bare minimum.
get educated, get loud, & GET PROUD! these are innocent people who are dying as you read this from your bed, couch, whatever. the least you can do is like & reblog so this reaches more people. your voice matters, big account or small.
FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE 🇵🇸🍉
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Note
I've had a bit of brainrot today and have to share so I can get it out of my head (maybe) so feel free to ignore lol I've been thinking of 141 having a civilian spouse (separately, just in case there was confusion) that only ever refers to them by their call sign/rank during an emergency situation. Using it just immediately sets off sirens and they see red. - 🐍
Yesss. Got a bit carried away with this one, lol. Only did 141 specifically, lmk if you'd like to see anyone else! Also tried my best to make this GN!😊
141 With Reader Who Uses Their Callsign in Emergency Situation
Warnings: mentions of guns, violence, unwanted advances/touching, stalking, swearing, injury, crying--- I promise it has a good ending😅
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Simon Ghost Riley-
"Golly, aren't you a fine looking thing." You heard a voice say behind you, as you were standing at the bar getting you and Simon another drink. Simon had just gone to the bathroom, so you knew you were on your own for this.
You turned around and were met with a man double your size, a sickening smile making its way on his face.
"Oh, thank you." You mustered a small smile before turning back to the bar, praying the man would take the hint and leave you alone.
"No, I mean it. I could take that little ass of yours home right now." The man came closer, and you could just start to feel his breath on your neck, making you cringe.
"I have a boyfriend, I'm sorry." You tried softly. You were desperate at this point, your eyes searching for Simon.
"I don't see him anywhere." The man smiled, his teeth were yellow, and his breath reeked of cheap booze.
"He just went to the restroom." You mumbled.
You felt a hand grope your ass slightly, squeezing at the flesh there. "Mmhmm, if I were your boyfriend, I'd never leave you unattended like this."
You cried out, moving to swat the guys hand away, to no avail. Nobody around you seemed to notice your predicament, and you were starting to grow scared.
The man pushed you up against the counter, his hand now gripping your waist. "Be a good little pet and come with me, okay?"
You struggled against his hold and screamed out, "Ghost!"
Simon, who had just exited the restroom, heard the wail and immediately started to run to you. What he saw had him seeing red.
He forced himself between you and the man and grabbed his hand roughly. "Who the fuck do you think you are touching them."
The man looked as if he was about to piss himself, as Simon was nearly a half foot taller and twice as bulky. "Sorry, man, they acted like they wanted it."
Simon seethed and twisted the man's wrist with such force that you swore you heard bones cracking. "Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here. Before I decide to do something that'll end with me in jail."
The man let out a small whimper, grabbed his now bruised hand and ran for the door.
Simon watched as he fled, then turned his attention to you, his eyes softening. "Y/N? Sweetheart, are you okay?"
Your eyes filled with tears as you threw yourself into Simon's chest. "Thank you, Si."
"You don't have to thank me. That's what I'm here for, yeah? Why won't we go home, I'll draw you a bath." He pulled away and cupped your cheeks, carefully pressing a soft kiss to your temple.
You nodded your head slowly and let Simon lead you out of the bar, not expecting him to crouch down on the ground once you made it outside. "Si?"
"Cmon, get on my back. Long way to the car." He gestured to his back and helped you on it, holding your legs tightly as he walked you to his car. He'd be damned if he ever let anything like that happen again to his person.
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Kyle Gaz Garrick-
You were walking around your local department store one afternoon with Kyle, looking to find him some new dress shirts. The two of you had a friends wedding to attend that weekend, and Kyle didn't have many outfits to pick from.
"What about this one?" You picked out a light blue stripped dress shirt, holding it up for Kyle to see.
"I'll look like a grandpa with that one, babe." He joked, waiving away the shirt.
"You'd be a hot grandpa." You countered, putting the shirt back.
"Oh hush. I gotta run to the restroom, I'll be right back." He chuckled as he gave your arm a squeeze. You watched him walk away with a small smile before returning to the racks in front of you.
Unbeknownst to you, there was a gentleman who'd been following you and Kyle around the store for some time now, and now that Kyle was gone, it was the perfect opportunity to strike.
You were just rounding the next row of racks when the man came up behind you and started to pull on your purse. You cried out, trying to pull back, but the man was too strong. He yanked with one mighty tug, ripping the purse from your arm, and shoved you backward, sending you toppling into the racks behind you.
"GAZ!" You screamed, as the man stared at you, frozen, before turning the other way and running.
Kyle was walking toward you when he heard you scream, and his blood ran cold. He immediately sprinted in your direction, running right into the man with your purse. The man fell backward, and Kyle looked down to see him clutching your purse.
He put his foot on the man's stomach and pushed down hard. "Give me the fucking purse, asshole."
The man refused and tightened his grip on your bag. Kyle saw red and promptly punched the man square in the jaw, knocking him out cold. He grabbed your purse as a few workers finally came to check on the commotion.
Kyle looked to see you clutching your head in pain. He ran over to you, sliding to a crouch position once he got to you. "Baby! Are you okay?"
Your bottom lip trembled as a strangled cry escaped your throat, and Kyle grabbed you, pulling you to his chest. He had to talk himself down from going and giving the man another few punches.
He tucked his arm underneath your legs and lifted you up bridal style. "I'm so sorry, babe. I've got you. Let's go home. Yeah?"
Kyle spent the rest of the night watching over you and icing the bruise that formed on your head. He made a silent vow that day, that he'd beat the ever loving shit out of anyone who dared touch his baby again.
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John Price-
BANG!
You looked up from your computer in your home office at the sound of the loud noise. It was late at night, and John was asleep, so you were concerned as to what caused the sound. You grabbed the pocket knife out of your drawer and made your way quietly to investigate.
Peeking your head around the doorway, you saw a large man making his way through your shared home with your husband. It appeared he'd somehow broken in through the front door.
You let out a small whimper, the confidence you had before now fading. John was fast asleep upstairs, and you had no way to get to him without revealing yourself.
You watched silently as the man started to rummage in your drawers, trying to find anything valuable he could take.
He started to draw closer to where you were, and as you slowly crept backward, the floorboards creaked underneath you.
The man was immediately notified of your presence and caught a glimpse of you as you tried to hide around the corner.
"Hey! You!" He shouted, immediately running toward you.
You sprinted in the other direction, narrowly missing his outstretched hand. You ran into the bathroom in the hallway and tried to close the door before a hand came out to stop it.
"Nowhere to run now." He said, a terrifying smile lining his face.
"PRICE!" You screeched, your heart beating rapidly.
John's eyes flew open at the sound of your terrified cry. With adrenaline coarsing through his veins, he flung himself out of bed and grabbed his handgun from his bedside table. He slowly crept down the stairs and took in his surroundings.
He saw you right away, crouched in terror before a man, who had you at gunpoint. John swiftly made his way behind the man before hitting him hard on the back of his head with the butt of his gun.
The man fell limply to the floor, and you let out a strangled sob. "John."
"Hey love, it's alright. I'm here." He approached you slowly, his hands raised up to show you he meant no harm. You held your arms out to him, and he pulled you into him, holding you tight. "I've got you. Nobody's going to hurt you."
He pulled away for just a moment to call the cops but held a grip firm on your waist, letting you know he wasn't ever going to let anything happen to you.
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Johnny Soap MacTavish-
"Alright, babe, I'll run and grab the stuff at the bottom half of the list. You grab top?" Johnny asked, eyeing your fairly large grocery list.
"Sounds good, thanks, love." You smiled at him and tore the list in half, sending him on his way after a quick peck.
You watched as he strolled away, basket in hand, and made for the toiletry section of the store.
You were comparing toothpastes when you felt two men staring at you. You subtly turned your head in their direction, and they quickly looked anywhere but your direction.
You felt a slight sinking feeling in your belly and quickly threw one of the toothpastes in your cart. You made for the next aisle, looking around deoderant for you and Johnny, when the same two men appeared again, walking slowly down the aisle toward you.
Trying to brush off the occurrence as a coincidence, you threw what you needed in the cart and started to make your way to the shampoo aisle. Your resolve quickly crumbled when you now realized the men were following you.
The store was rather empty, so there was nobody close by for you to turn to. You sped your cart up and headed in the direction you thought Johnny might be. The men were hot on your tail, making it clear they were trying to get to you.
You felt one of their hands touch your back, and you let out a cry. "SOAP!"
Johnny was just finishing up his portion of the list when he heard your scream. His heart was beating rapidly as he dropped the basket and ran to you.
"Y/N?" He called out and was met with a horrifying sight. You were cornered in one of the aisles by two men and were crying, your hands up in a defensive motion as you crouched on the floor.
Johnny immediately approached. "Leave my partner the fuck alone."
The two men whipped their heads in his direction, rubbing their hands together. It was clear they were looking for a fight. Johnny lifted his shirt slightly, revealing his sidearm strapped to his waist. "Try it, I fucking dare you. You won't like the outcome."
The men clearly knew better than to create such a scene in a store and decided to flee.
Johnny watched as they ran and crouched down to your level. "Baby. Are you okay?"
You choked out a sob and wrapped your arms around your husband. "I was so scared, Johnny."
Johnny gritted his teeth in anger, he hated that anyone made you feel this way. It took everything in him not to go chasing after those bastards.
"I know, baby. I'm here now, though. Why don't we quickly finish up this trip and grab some takeout, yeah? I'm not really feeling up to cooking anymore." He pulled your face away gently and stroked your tears away. "I've got you, always, okay?"
You nod slowly and let him help you up. He grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, not letting go until you both reached the car.
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monicahar · 1 year
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reminiscence.
fem! reader, scara and nahida would act like siblings change my mind, includes sumeru archon quest spoilers!
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“would you mind telling me more about [name]?”
scaramouche had to make sure he was hearing things correctly.
“excuse me?”
“[name]. i want to know more about her.”
the tiny god of wisdom gently rocks back and forth on her makeshift swing created by her control over dendro—watching over the city of sumeru with soft eyes whilst the former harbinger stares daggers onto the back of her head.
a sigh escapes the man's lips from behind her, a telltale sign of his incoming exasperation, “you read my mind without my permission again? i remember clearly telling you to cut it out, didn't i?” his annoyance doesn't come unnoticed by the observant child.
“it was quite improper of me to do so, but i'm the god of wisdom. i actively seek out knowledge, and such—i couldn't resist the temptation of peering onto a mind as eccentric as yours.” her tone remains understanding of his irritation, yet all the more wise in explaining her unwarranted prying.
the dark-haired male behind her hums, leaning back onto the tree as he shuts his eyes closed, seemingly given up on voicing his displeasure towards the archon.
“tell me what you know so i'll know where to start.”
his immediate compliance makes the curious child turn her head his way, staring at him with wide eyes.
“you...” nahida trails off as she smiles in relief, quickly reminding herself to not comment on his chosen act of opening up as he might get impatient and dismiss the subject altogether.
the distant chatter of her people down at the city successfully averts her attention from him, her eyes now gazing down at a certain blonde traveller stopping by to buy some supplies for their next adventure.
“you were dreaming of her during your slumber. she's...the fourth betrayal you encountered, correct?” nahida knows that you were anything but a betrayal, but she has to bend her words to his whims for now as to avoid a temper tantrum.
scaramouche hums in response.
“out of all the companions you've trusted, you seemed to cling onto your memories of her the most. why is that?”
“if you've read my mind, then i'm sure you already know why.”
“you're not gonna deny it?” the lesser lord cranes her neck to look at him over her shoulder, brows raised questioningly at his statement. “that you were in love, romantically?” she had carefully formed the question to give him the freedom of denying it just in case he wasn't ready to face his past just yet, but this situation was clearly something she didn't expect.
the male remains resting against the tree behind him, uncaring of the child's rather surprised gaze as his eyes stay shut. “if there's one thing you taught me while being under your care, it has to be acceptance.” he feels his anemo vision thrum to life by his chest, but he pays no mind to it as he continues, “i have nothing to lose now, so I might as well stop lying to myself to give my existence some type of meaning.”
nahida can't help the softening of her eyes towards the male, her smile widening by a fraction before she returns her gaze towards the city below her. if anything, that's probably his way of thanking her. it's a pretty roundabout way considering the better alternatives, but it managed to get the message across, didn't it?
she sighs in content, “that's essentially all I know about her. once again, would you mind telling me how she was like?”
you would probably pass out if you found out that the god of wisdom wishes to know more about you.
the ends of his lips twitch upwards for a moment as he thinks back on the memories he held dearly of you;
ranging from the embarrassing and funny moments you two shared like that one time you accidentally mistook him as a girl due to how graceful and fair his skin and face was, or up to the more intimate moments—like watching the narukami festival unfold along with its blooming fireworks from the mountain peaks of tatarasuna...
...and that one time he finally let your desires free and bared himself for you to touch—his first time.
he feels his cheeks burn at the thought, crossing his arms with a huff as if to breathe out the sinful thoughts.
now that he was free from the shackles of burdens and hatred, everything he experienced with you no longer seemed to be as bitter and disgusting to recall—unlike the times before where he'd have occasional dreams of you back in the fatui, the pettiness in his nerves as he calls it a nightmare that reminds him of how naïve and weak he was back then.
he returns to the matter at hand with a new sense of clarity—now what was he supposed to say again?
right. he was supposed to tell nahida about you.
he can't believe he's still blushing over you after all these centuries.
lifting his eyelids, the first thing he catches in his eyesight was nahida's knowing smile—directed right at him as she stays still on her swing.
why is she—?
oh.
making haste with his movements, he quickly lifts his hand to pull down his hat over his face, only to discover he wasn't wearing his hat at the moment—so pathetically enough, he opts to cover his face with a hand, shyly hiding his face from the grinning archon as he looks away with reddened cheeks and ears.
he got too carried away while reminiscing, it seems.
“i see...so you're still very much in love with her, hm?” nahida speaks up with a teasing tilt to her voice, relishing in this rare moment of the male's lowered guard, “not like i blame you. she was really pretty in your dreams, and probably even prettier in person.”
“shut up. do you want me to continue or not?”
with a quick apology amidst her fit of giggles, she nods, looking away once again from the eccentric wanderer to give him the privacy he deserves.
“sorry, sorry. now you may start.”
her curiousity is piqued. just how much of an impact did you make to cause the male to make such interesting reactions?
she's about to find out now, it seems.
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might make part two idk
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the-writer-arrived · 5 months
Text
Voice lines and habits that give me unholy thoughts
Synopsis: it doesn't need much for your cute little brain to go haywire with desire for him... (un)fortunately for you, he's quick to catch on the signs and use them against you.
Characters: wriothesley, alhaitham.
Warnings: afab!fem!reader; explicit smut; established relationship; a bit of plot since i like the build up to the horny part; use of handcuffs, oral f!receiving, fingering & overstimulation (wriothesley); semi-public/office sex & oral m!receiving (alhaitham).
A/N: wrio's teaser and web event messed with my brain :D hoyoverse def knew what they were doing when they created him.
This work has sexual themes and is not suitable for minors. If you click on read more, I am not responsable for any discomfort you may feel reading this. You have been warned.
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"...Sweetheart, did you hear me or were you too busy staring intensely at my hand?"
"...Oh! I, uh... was just thinking about an answer to your question!"
"Does my question of whether you want more tea or not need that much pondering over?"
Wriothesley rests his cheek on his hand, not even trying to hold back a smirk as he watches the redness of your cheeks becoming more proeminent.
Shit. So much for thinking you were being discreet about it.
You decide to exercise your right to remain silent, taking the teapot and filling your own cup, promptly ignoring the chuckle coming from the man before you.
At the corner of your eyes, you see the handsome bastard has the audacity to return twirling and moving that dastard pen again, as if to taunt you.
...Is feeling jealous of an object too concerning of a sign?
----------
Wriothesley was seeing you out of his office, a stack of documents in your arms that needed to be delivered to Neuvillette about the recent happenings of the Fortress, a task that you were more than happy to do for him.
As you were finishing your conversation, you hear a commotion coming from the Coupon Cafeteria. With a shared glance between you two, the warden walks towards the scene to investigate, you following a few steps behind.
There, you see a group of inmates-- no, it's more like one inmate is causing a ruckus while the others are trying to cool him off... without much success apparently. In fact, things are quickly getting out of control when the riled up man begins to fight anyone opposing him.
Your boyfriend is known to be level-headed, always trying to resolve internal conflicts by talking things out to reach an agreement. Cases like this one, however, require a more... on hands approach.
It all happens too fast. The prisoner turns around to hit the next person that dared to touch him so casually, only for his sloppy attack to be dodged with ease by none other than the Duke himself. One could easily see the color draining from man's face, any trace of his anger disappearing in a flash.
You gasp at the scene ahead of you, having to lean on the large pipe next to you as your legs suddenly feel weak.
Make no mistake, your reaction isn't fear by the violence you witness, far from it. Rather, it is because of the sudden wave of arousal you feel as you watch Wriothesley pin the troublemaker underneath him, pulling his arms behind his back to cuff him.
Fuck. For a split second, you wish you could trade places with the inmate.
'...What in the world. Get a hold of yourself!'
You shake your head in an attempt to clear the indecent thoughts... Which proves to be futile at the way the stern and cold look of your lover melts into a soft and warm one when his eyes turn to you. All while 'adjusting' his loose tie, aka pulling it lower and revealing a bit more of his scarred skin that you adore kissing it.
"Are you okay, sweetheart? Sorry, did that scare you?"
His duality makes you crazy horny-- t-that is, deeply in love with him!
"No! No, no, I wasn't scared! I was just, um... feeling a little faint due to the heat, yes!"
You wave a hand in front of you make it more believable... which don't seem to be working very we'll, seeing the frown on Wriothesley's face. So you start your plan B: run away.
"Ah, I-I better go deliever this documents to Monsieur Neuvillette then. Seeyouathomeloveyoubye!"
Wriothesley watches as you scurry off to the elevator, clutching the files in your arms like a lifeline. He shakes his head, a hand covering the grin.
"Oh darling, you're too easy to read."
----------
"Y-You mean-- ahh, that you k-knew all along?!"
"How could I not, when your eyes were almost begging me to fuck you? You should reward me for my self control, sweetheart."
Any retort you had dissolve into a shaky moan when Wriothesley curls his two fingers inside your core, hitting that deep spot that turns your brain into mush.
You want grasp the sheets, you want to scratch his back, you want to cover your face, ANYTHING. But you can't, not with your hands locked with his handcuffs to the bedpost. You hate it and you love it.
"Wrioooo..."
"Now, now princess, don't tug the handcuffs so hard, it'll hurt you and we can't have that." His free hand trails up your arms, lightly dragging his nails to make you shiver at the ticklish feeling, until he holds your wrists in place. "Be a good girl and focus on me, yeah?"
Jokes on him, that's what you've been doing the whole day. Thinking about your dear boyfriend, his sweet personality, his cute adoration for tea, his godly body, his great strength and how you wished for nothing more than to be bent over his desk and--
"C-Close, close... Gonna-!" Your babbles are interrupted by a gasp, Wriothesley's fingers speeding up and his palm brushing against your clit over and over that it takes just a few seconds for you to see white, body taut, eyes squeezed shut as pleasure washes over you.
The Duke slows down his movement until his hand stops completely, kissing your temple and cooing at you when you whine at his fingers leaving you empty.
You sigh when his mouth meets yours in a languid kiss, helping your heartbeat return to normal... until it races again when you realize his lips going down, down and down your body...
"W-Wrio... what are you-- Ahh!" You squeal at the sudden cold sensation in your sensitive pussy, attempting to wiggle your hips away. Your very mean lover just chuckles, wrapping his strong arms around your thighs and drags you back to his face, the asshole shooting you a smirk after he uses cold tongue to lick your folds again.
"Surely you didn't think I'd stop at one round, after you used your bedroom eyes at me the whole day, right? So..."
"Don't run away now, sweetheart."
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"W-What did you say?!"
"...I said, don't let any of it, the treasure, roll away now."
Your lover looks at you with a quizzical look, not comprehending your unusual reaction to his words. You, on the other hand, are silent praying to all the Seven archons for your face to not be as red as you think it is.
In any case, you decide to turn your back to Alhaitham to get the rest of the treasure inside the chest, while he keeps on look out for any other hilichurl or abyss monsters lurking around.
You see, it's not common for you two to go adventure together around Sumeru, much less to see the scribe in action with your own eyes. So, you can't be blamed when you've been too distracted by the way his toned arms flex as he swings his sword(s), his cape gracefully flowing at each movement, the focused expression as the Chisel-Light Mirrors cut down the enemies...
Anyway, you were far too busy gawking over your boyfriend and how unfairly hot he is to actually notice the chest spawning right in front of you. And those words that he had said? It's no surprise your mind went to the gutter.
You just hope you weren't acting so obviously down bad for him as you fear...
----------
"So good... Always so good to me. Fuck, I'm getting close...!"
You really don't know how you got here. The memories from returning to Sumeru City from adventuring in the wilderness to being on your knees, sucking on Alhaitham's cock while in his office are a blur.
But, honestly? You can't bring yourself to care about these minor details.
You drag your head back slowly, torturously forcing the man above you to feel every inch of your mouth until only the tip, angry red and drooling pre cum, remains inside.
The harsh suck you give at the sensitive area earns you a groan, a growl almost, that leaves you rubbing your thighs together. Looking up at your beloved, you watch his chest rise and fall rapidly, a pretty flush on his cheeks and eyes sending you a glare.
A side of you wants to be mean, to give him a taste of paradise before taking it away, just like he so adores to do with you. You want him to be frustrated, to beg you for release, a taste of his own medicine...
But you can't. You shouldn't.
Regardless of the locked door, anyone might come knocking, requiring the presence of the scribe for some unimportant business and, archons forbid, hear what is happening inside the office.
You try not to acknowledge the dampness of your panties from this thought.
And then you feel it, three taps of his fingers on the back of your head, the sign you two came up with to tell the other when you're about to cum.
You release his shaft with a "pop" and Alhaitham is ready to question your cruel actions, but whatever words he had wanted to say get thrown out of the window when you swallow him again without warning, taking as much of his cock as you can.
With one, two shallow thrusts of his hips, he paints your throat white with his release, head thrown back, eyes tightly shut and a moan that most certainly would be heard by everyone in the Akademiya halls had the scribe not covered his mouth.
You try, you swear to Celestia that you try your hardest to swallow every single drop of cum, but there's too much and you can control your breathing only for so long. With much dismay, your mouth lets go of the slowly softening member, covered with a mix of his seeds and your saliva.
Chuckling at your dejected look, Alhaitham raises your chin to make you look at him, thumb gathering the very same mix that has escaped from your mouth to smear it over your lips, his next words making you shiver in arousal but also embarrasment of the knowledge that he had known all along what had gone through your mind during your adventure earlier.
"Don't let any of it roll away now, my love."
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thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3
heart divider made by @/cafekitsune
red wriothesley and alhaitham banners (smut) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)
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reiderwriter · 8 months
Text
Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You🃏
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Chapter 1 of That's What You Get
Next Chapter
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Word count: 5.2k
Summary: After three weeks on a case in Vegas and a particularly draining phone call from your mother, you decide to take Reid up on his offer to show you the sights of Las Vegas. When you wake up the next morning, you realise one of those sights was a 24hour Wedding Parlor, and that you're now Mrs. Reid.
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, loss of memory, marriage (yeah that needs a warning), mommy issues, mentions of emotional abuse, implied sex scene, use of handcuffs in a sexual way, they theorize a possible creampie but I will neither confirm nor deny at this point, talk of contraception, no actual smut though, you guys are gonna have to wait for that. 18+ Minors DNI
A/N: The first chapter is here! Sorry for drawing you in with a silly little premise and then giving you mommy issues, I swear that after this chapter it's not bought up all that much. If you enjoy this chapter, you can sign up to the series taglist here, check out my masterlist and if you want leave a request! :D have fun reading!! ✨
Las Vegas, city of sin and entertainment capital of the world. Population approximately 600,000, home to the most famous casinos in the world, and unluckily for you, your latest unsub.
You’d been in Vegas for three weeks trying to hunt down this specific murderer, but now the case was all wrapped up and you could finally breathe, the weight of the stress you’d been carrying for almost a month now dissolving as you finally finished up the paperwork in the local precinct.
“Thank god that’s over. I cannot wait to be in bed with a good book and an empty head,” you groaned as you met the eyes of Penelope Garcia, your favorite tech analyst in the entire world and absolutely the only one you knew. She’d ended up having to join you on this case because some of the crime scenes just happened to be casinos that weren’t so happy sharing their data, but also didn’t want to be lumped with the warrant from the FBI. She’d been working between their offices and the precinct, and looked just as haggard as you felt.
“Oh, I feel you sister, this free travel experience thing is nice, but I would like to be back at my own perfect little desk hovel ASAP, thank you very much.” The two of you shared a small laugh, and then began collecting your stuff.
“Come on now, baby girl, you’re telling me that you don’t want to hit up the strip while we’re here? See the sights a little?”
“Sweet cheeks, I have been working from the most harrowing of surveillance units all week on that very strip. I have already seen the sights and they were not pretty, and definitely not worth using up my precious vacation time for.”
“Unfortunately Garcia, I don’t think you’ll be needing to use any of that vacation time to stay here,” Hotch announced as he walked in, and every member of your team snapped to attention to hear what he had to say. “I just got off the phone with Quantico, there’s a storm cloud moving in directly in our flight path and we haven’t been cleared for take off. They’re extending our stay by another day.”
“Shit,” you let out a silent curse, and noticed that your other team members didn’t seem all that happy about it either. JJ quickly excused herself from the room to call Will, Garcia let out a faux sob and fell back into her chair, and Rossi had the look of abject Italian disappointment on his face that he usually only got when you talked about your love of pineapple on pizza.
“How’s about that drink now, baby girl?” Derek Morgan teased, but it was half-hearted and you knew it. You were all desperate for bed, and you could only imagine the mistakes you would make if you went drinking now after the month you’d all just survived.
The only member of the team who didn’t seem put out quite yet was Reid, but you chalked that up to the fact that this place was his hometown.
“If you guys do change your mind, I know a bar downtown where you’re 34% less likely to be propositioned, robbed or over-charged.” He smiled over at you, and you couldn’t help but let out a giggle knowing the man was 100% serious.
“Dare I ask how you found that statistic, Reid?” Emily inquired from the other corner.
“One part actually reading the annual crime report, one part personal experience?” Reid replied, and you laughed again, unable to hold it back.
“Count me out, thank you,” you replied, and you could have sworn for a second you saw a flash of disappointment flash over his features, but you didn’t get the chance to question it, because a call was lighting up your phone screen.
You quickly excused yourself and moved to pick up the call from your mother.
“Mom, hey, what’s up?”
“What, I can’t check in on my daughter now for no reason?” you sighed and rubbed your temples, knowing exactly how this phone call was going to go, because it was how the last ten calls home had.
“Yes, mom, of course you can. How are you?”
“Terrible. Cindy’s daughter is getting married, and it’s all she’s talking about now. Can you believe it? The girl was absolutely wild when you were friends with her in high school and now she’s settling down with a lawyer of all people. Someone should warn that young man before he realises what he’s got himself into,” she scoffed on the other end of the line and you did your best to not get worked up. If you got angry it only made her more self-richeous.
“I know, Mom, Jessica sent me an invite, and I’m sure Trevor knows exactly what he’s getting into since they’ve been dating since high school.”
“Well, how was I supposed to know that? You never tell me anything.”
“I’m sorry, Mom, I’m in the middle of a case right now, can I call you back later?” You did your best to escape the conversation before it devolved into something you really didn’t want to talk about, like yourself, and more specifically your love life. But the gorgon had you frozen through the line and you weren’t about to make the mistake of hanging up on her.
“I’m sure your boss could spare you for five minutes, over-working you like he does. You haven’t had the time off to come and visit me since you got that fancy little job of yours, so you can do me this favor at least.”
“Sure, mom.” At times like this, you knew it was best to just let her talk and ride out the wave.
“And I’m sure you don’t even have time to date. Are you taking care of yourself, at least? Making sure you’re at least presentable, I hope? Its like I always say, you could meet your future husband in one of those precincts, you know. Get a big, strong man to take care of you.”
You had to resist the urge to throw your phone. You’d explained to your mother time and time again that you were perfectly content being the big, strong man for yourself, but there was absolutely no getting through to her. You received one of these phone calls everytime one of her friends or coworkers kids announced an engagement, got pregnant or bought a house, three things that she was desperate for you to do, as well. As soon as you saw the instagram post from Jessica you’d been counting down the days, almost thankful for your mothers lack of online presence.
“A crime scene isn’t exactly the most charming of meet cutes, Mom.”
“Well, then what about Virginia? There are some fine men working at the FBI surely. What about that one coworker of yours, what was his name?” Your heart-race increased for a moment, praying she wasn’t about to put a thought in your head that you wouldn’t be able to escape.
“Derek Morgan, was it? Now, that’s a fine young man.” This time you couldn’t stop the startled cry that came from your mouth. Sure, Morgan was an incredibly attractive man, but he’d joked around with you like a brother ever since you’d taken down your first unsub with the team. Your team was your family and your support system on the road, and they had your back on the case, so really, had your mother said anything, you’d have responded with incredulous guffawing. Hotch was like your dad, Rossi a fun Great-Uncle or something. You saw the sister’s you’d never had in JJ and Emily and of course Garcia was your best friend and you shared so many likes and dislikes that you regularly joked about being long-lost twins separated at birth. And Reid was Reid.
“Just give dating some thought, would you at least? The clock is ticking for you, you know.”
“Mom, I’m not even thirty yet. I’m in no rush.”
“That's what your Aunt Linda said, and look at her.” Your Aunt Linda was a perfectly content single woman in her late forties who had a high paying executive job, in NYC of all places, so yeah, you were in no rush at all.
“Listen, Mom, I’ve got to go, Hotch is calling me into the office to talk about some case files. I’ll speak to you later?”
“God, it’s like you don’t even want to talk to your mother for even five minutes. Go on, then, go do your big fancy job. Call me soon.”
“Yeah, Mom, I will.” And with that you finally hung up. Running a hand through your hair you paused for a breath for a second, closing your eyes and letting your hand just grip your hair for a second before releasing your breath for a second.
In the grand scheme of things, you knew that your mom wasn’t all that much to complain about. You and Emily had bonded over your respective mommy issues early in your time on the team, and you knew a lot of the other team members were either lacking some family member or the other, so you were just thankful that she was still around to annoy you, but god did she make it difficult sometimes.
Realising that any second, you’d have one profiler or the other come find you and ask you (with the best of intentions) what was wrong, you plastered a smile on your face and walked back into the office. You didn’t exactly want to relive that call anytime soon.
“Back so soon, Y/N? I thought that was your mom,” Morgan questioned you when you stepped back in.
“Yeah it was. One of my friends from highschool is getting married and you know how she loves to gossip.” You’d learnt early in the profession that you were in that the best way to hide something was to tell the truth about it for as long as you could, and then change the subject.
“Hey, Reid, you still up for a drink at that bar?” You looked hopefully at the man in the corner, and prayed noone would bring up your absolute change in attitude. “I was thinking a glass of wine or two after a successfully closed case couldn’t hurt, right?”
“Yeah, sure. You wanna head back to the hotel first and change, or do you want to go from here? Hotch said we’re free now until 2pm tomorrow.” You could see a questioning look from Morgan to your left, but you kept your vision focused on Reid, quietly thankful for the rest of the teams disinterest.
“Give me five to drop off my badge and gun in my room and freshen up a bit and we can be on our way. If this bar is bad though, Reid, you know I’m never letting you hear the end of it, right?”
“I ran the statistics, there’s only a 14% chance you’ll dislike it.”
“You know what’s scary is, I can’t even tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”
–x–
Sarcasm or no, you had to admit, the bar he’d taken you to was pretty nice. It was a low-lit bar only a twenty minute taxi ride from your hotel and whilst it wasn’t exactly on the strip, it wasn’t so far out to be inconvenient. The best part about it was that it was lined with bookshelves, and each booth was blocked off by another, making it feel more like a library than a watering hole. You almost forgot you were in Vegas when you stepped in.
“Yeah, this is definitely a Spencer Reid place,” you said as you took the final swig of your wine, the glass you’d ordered on arrival having gone down easier than you’d expected.
“How so?” Spencer said as he returned to your table, carrying the replacement drinks he’d gone to order with him.
“Come on, Spencer. I’ve never seen the inside of your apartment but I’m sure it’s just this place with less furniture and more books.”
“Y/L/N, are you profiling me right now? Because that sounds pretty close to profiling?” Spencer teased and you rolled your eyes at him, grabbing your next drink from him and giving it a stir - the wine was good but at the price per glass you’d decided maybe cocktails were the thing for tonight.
“Besides, you did mention wanting to curl up with a book tonight, so I thought this bar was probably a good fit for you too.”
“Whose profiling who now, Doctor?” It was his turn to roll his eyes, and he took a sip of his drink. You knew he didn’t drink that often, but he seemed pretty open to the idea tonight, and you were absolutely glad for the company.
“Okay, I won’t profile if you don’t, but do you mind me asking you a question, Y/N?”
“Fire away,” you were playing with the stirrer in your cocktail, waiting for him to ask the question but he’d hesitated for a moment before speaking again, causing you to look up directly into his eyes.
“What’s going on with you and your mom? I don’t mean to pry and I didn’t overhear any of your call earlier or anything, but when you came in again you were all tense and you had that strained smile on your face. Then you suddenly changed your mind and decided we should get drinks so, I’m just guessing here, but you could probably do with talking about it, right?”
You let out a groan and let your head hang a bit. Yeah, you were starting to regret taking that role in the team of profilers. But at least Reid was sincere, and you knew his intentions were good. Of all the members of the team, you’d probably have described him as the safest. It was strange to think, considering all the comfort you found in your other friends, but there was just something so reassuring about Reid’s presence, the way most people overlooked him at first, how he could easily fall into his work and how you could see the cogs moving in his head as he made one genius leap to another that just made you think that everything was going to be okay if he was there.
So because it was him, you decided to talk.
“She’s just…She’s just a little much sometimes, you know?” He smiled back a knowing smile, but didn’t try to add anything and encouraged you to keep going.
“She’s been really persistent recently in bothering me about hitting some of lifes big milestones - marriage, kids, you know? And it always leaves me in a panic because though I’m pretty sure I want those things just yet, I don’t want the pressure of having them yet.” You swallowed the bile in your thoat and continued
“Everytime she says something, I feel bad that I don’t have them. And the way she talks about them its like they’re some kind of… of personal failure, that I’m not trying hard enough to catch a man or something, and I just wonder what if she’s right?” You start slow but you feel yourself gaining pace as you begin rambling, by the end you’re left wondering if Reid even caught any of that.
“I’m perfectly content living alone, but what if I’m secretly not, and I end up forty and alone and can’t even get a guy to look at me.”
“I can pretty confidently say that that’s not going to happen, Y/N.” Reid replied when you finally grabbed your drink ready to take another sip.
“How come?”
“You won’t have to put any effort into catching a man, Y/N.” Reid replied.
“You’re saying that because you’re my friend and you care about me Reid, of course you think that.”
“No, I’m saying that as an FBI Profiler that’s noticed the barman, the man on a date in the corner and the group of guys smoking outside the door eye you up since we’ve been here. And considering we’ve been doing paperwork all day, and the only change in your appearance since 8am this morning was the fresh coat of chapstick you put on while we were in the taxi, I’d think you hadn’t really put that much thought into what you look like right now.”
“You’re exaggerating,” and you really believe that, until you turn to look at the guy on the date and see him avert his gaze from you quickly, and you realise there might be something in what he’s saying.
“Okay, but that still doesn’t mean that I need or want to hear those things from my mother.”
“Y/N, take it from me, mother’s can be complicated.”
“God, I feel so stupid talking to you about something so trivial with my mom, I shouldn’t be doing that, we’re here to have fun.”
“Y/N, its okay. I can do the mommy issues talks, I’m perfectly qualified, but…” he trails off and grabs his drink for another sip and you find yourself hanging off his words begging for him to bring you more comfort and spoken caresses.
“But what, Reid?” you finally ask, as you realise he’s dragging this out on purpose to tease you a little.
“But how about a distraction instead? Have you ever been in a Las Vegas casino with a man that is banned from gambling in most of them?” He wiggled his eyebrows a little as he asked that and you giggled again, grateful for the reprieve from the serious talk.
“That doesn’t sound all that fun, Spencer.”
“Oh yeah, it’s not, but we could always use those vouchers we got as a token of appreciation earlier in the bars and drink some pretty fancy alcohol?”
“Spencer Reid, you are finally speaking my language.”
“I’m still speaking English Y/N, but if you wanted me to switch to russian or some other language, I could accommodate that depending on your linguistic preference.”
“It was a joke, Spence, now let’s get out of here.”
With that, he stood and dramatically offered you his hand like a gentleman, placing your hand in the crook of his elbow when you took it and guiding you swiftly out of the sweet bar. You were with Spencer, your safe friend, close work colleague and probably the least likely member of the BAU Team to get into trouble in a bar in Vegas. What’s the worst that could happen? You thought, as you took a final step out into the humid night air of Las Vegas.
–X–
The first thing you noticed in the morning was the pounding in your head, and it was pretty much the only thing you noticed for quite some time. When you managed to finally unglue your eyes, the second thing you noticed that this definitely wasn’t your room. The third thing you noticed was the gaping hole in your memories that explained how you possibly could’ve ended up wherever it was that you were. Or really any memories from the night before at all.
Letting out a quick groan you sit up in bed and take stock of your surroundings. Although the layout is different, you quickly recognise the interior matches the hotel you’ve been staying at, so you’re thankful that you’re at least somewhere relatively safe, and most likely in familiar company. The room looks to be neat on the whole, but there’s obvious signs of a drunken escapade strewn everwhere - two champagne flutes and a drained bottle, the contents of your purse spilt onto the chair in the corner, some random balloons in the corner you must have picked up somewhere in a drunken stupor, your clothes discarded in a trail to the bed.
That last one wakes you up a little bit more, and almost embarrassingly, you look down at yourself and see your lack of clothing, pulling the covers of the quilt closer to you as you feel yourself flush.
Fuck.
There’s a shifting in the bed next to you, and you look down in horror to see exactly which member of your team got you so plastered last night. You try to move to see who it is, but theres a tightness around your wrist and you’re pulled right back down into bed. You look down at your arm, and that’s when you realise you’re really screwed.
There, around your wrist and restraining you against the bed, is a set of handcuffs. FBI standard. The insinuation flames your face as you whip around to see which close friend and coworker you maybe - possibly - hooked up with last night, too embarrassed to look at your hand any more.
Luckily, your mystery man shifts again, and you catch sight of the nest of brown curls right before he turns over to see you, so when you finally meet the eye of Doctor Spencer Reid, you don’t scream in surprise.
“Y/N? What are you doi-” he cuts himself off as he lets his eyes trail down your body, quickly noticing your state of undress and pulling himself up into a seated position. He is similarly disrobed and it takes all of your strength to pull your gaze away from his bare chest to look literally anywhere else, your face practically flaming now.
“Spencer, would you mind helping me out over here?” you manage to squeak out quickly, as he does his best to avoid your eyes. “I seem to be a little stuck?”
That draws his attention back to you, and he finally notices the strange position of your arms and the handcuffs keeping you pinned to that spot in the bed.
“Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry, fuck,” he quickly pulls on the pants he discarded by his side of the bed and scrambles over to you, tripping over once in his haste.
“Do you know where the key is?” you ask as he arrives at your side again, your free hand clutching the sheets over your breasts like your life depended on it.
“If that’s my pair they should be in the safe in the nightstand with my creds, give me a second to look.” After a second, he reaches the aforementioned safe box, pulling it open. He roots around inside it for a few seconds and then he spots something ad you watch the blood drain from his face.
“Spencer, what’s wrong?” you spit out quickly, tongue still heavy, and lips probably still swollen, from the night before, so you trip over the words a little. He pulls out the keys from the draw, and you let out a sigh of relief, but you’re still tense as he reaches back inside the draw and pulls out something else.
“Y/N, there wouldn’t happen to be a ring on that hand would there?” Spencer still isn’t looking at you, still staring intently at whatever else is in his hands. You try to angle your head to look, but between the restraints and the fact that Reid had turned his back to you couldn’t quite see what it was.
“What? No, I don’t wear a ring on this hand-” you cut yourself off abruptly as you look down and see it. There on the fourth finger of your left hand, the one that is still chained to the bed by your partners handcuffs, is a ring. There’s a ring on your ring finger. You just woke up in Las Vegas with no memory, in your coworkers room, naked, with a ring on your ring finger.
Your heart drops to your ass as you snap your head back around to Spencer, who finally works up the courage to look you in the eye.
“I think you should look at this” he stutters out and finally presents you with the other item he pulled out of the draw. Your jaw drops open and the pounding in your head turns into a continuous buzzing as you see yourself presented with a marriage liscence. Pinned to the corner with a paperclip is a polaroid picture, and you recognise yourself and your clothes from the night before, with the addition of a veil and bouquet, your arms slung around Reid’s neck as he pulls you in for what you can assume was a pretty passionate kiss.
“Y/N I think we got married last night.”
For a second you could’ve sworn your heart stopped. This was not happening, not to you, not right now. How stupidly drunk could you have gotten to have actually gone and married someone you weren’t even dating. And considering your current lack of clothing, it was dawning on you that you had probably done a little bit more than what was in that photo.
“Spencer unlock these handcuffs right now, so help me God,” you breathed deep and screwed your eyes shut, hoping that wihtout the distraction of the glaring lights you’d be able to remember some of what you’d done last night, but nothing came to you.
Reid, for what it was worth, got you unlocked quickly. You winced slightly as you pulled your arm away from the position it’d been in for however many hours.
“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I should have undone those last night, I don’t know why I didn’t, I’m usually pretty good at remembering stuff like that.” Reid rambled, running a hand through his hair and pacing slightly at your side of the bed. You pushed yourself up and watched him for a minute, just looking at this man who was now, probably, your husband.
Your husband.
You shook the thought from your head and cut his rambling off quickly.
“You put me in these?” you asked, just desperate for any clarification on any of the events of the last 24 hours, not fully grasping the implications of what you were asking until Reid was looking down at you with a flushed face and a mouth gaping like a fish, struggling to find the words to say.
“This is my hotel room. Those are my handcuffs… I kind of just assumed…” he trailed off the thought and you were right with him, the embarrassment heating your face just as much as it had his. You found it hard to meet his eyes the, and dropped yours to your lap.
“So you don’t remember, either?” You almost sighed in relief at that. If even a genius with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory was in this state after a night of drinking, then you really couldn’t be blamed for getting so drunk you married your coworker and most likely had some pretty kinky sex with him, remembering absolutely nothing on top of that at all.
“Do you need me to grab you something to wear?” he asked as he looked down at you, letting his gaze trail probably a little bit too low for a little bit too long. You grew heated under his stare, as your body reacted, and you realised how easy it must have been to fall underneath him last night if this was how you were feeling from just one look.
But you pulled yourself out of those thoughts quickly, and it seemed that so did he, as he began grabbing clothes from the floor and handing them to you, turning away as you started getting yourself into a semi-decent state.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you heard Reid mumble to himself as he made his way around the side of the bed, and in your concern for him, you called out.
“Anything specific those curses were for, Spence? Because I know this isn’t exactly the most ideal situation, but four Spencer Reid swears in a row is a cause for concern.” You tried to joke, hoping to relieve some of the anxiety of your predicament.
“I can’t find…” he started and then dragged a hand over his face, trying to wipe the exhaustion from his eyes. “Y/N, I think we didn’t use protection.” You could see him panicking now, and for a second you thought of joining him too, but you crossed the room and grabbed his arms.
“Spencer, look at me, it’s fine. If we did end up… doing that, I’m on birth control, and we probably have time to grab something extra just to make sure, right?” he looked down at you then and after a moments hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you.
“I’m so sorry about all of this, I’m so stupid for suggesting we go to that casino bar last night, I don’t know what I was thinking. You even said last night that this wasn’t what you wanted for yourself, right now, god I’m an idiot, you don’t deserve this.” He buried his face in your neck and held you tight, and you pulled yours up to his back, rubbing circles into his skin slowly.
“Spencer, listen to me. I can think of noone I would have rather had a shotgun Vegas marriage with, okay? This isn’t your fault, we were both drunk, and I’m sure a Reid who was thinking straight could give me some kind of statistic about inhibitions dropping with a certain amount of alcohol.”
“A study in the United Kingdom found that there was an increase of risky sexual behavior in young people who had participated in binge drinking, including unprotected sex with a new partner and the use of emergency contraceptives and I’m not sure why I’m still talking when that was probably rhetorical, right?” You smiled at his panic, finding him just as endearing as ever, even in this predicament.
“What I’m saying, Spencer, is that we’re going to be okay. This isn’t the first time someone has gotten married in Vegas on a whim. Hell, this isn’t even the first time it’s happened to someone on our team. In a sense, this was a very traditional wedding.”
He groaned into your neck again and you laughed up at him. Sure, you were panicked still, but just having him in your arms there sharing his honest feelings with you instead of bottling it up and leaving you to deal with it on your own in your head too was doing you a world of good, and you found the words you used to reassure him soothing you, too, in turn.
“Here’s what we’re going to do. One, find the nearest pharmacy. Two, find whatever Elvis-inspired love shack wrote that marriage license and figure out if it’s actually legally binding. Three, avoid all of our coworkers until 2pm. How does that sound?”
Reid pulled himself out of your neck then, and you were almost sad at the loss of that warmth near you.
“It sounds like I made the smartest choice of a wife I was ever going to make,” he smiled down at you.
“Oh you got jokes now, Doc? I see.”
“Thought I should let you know all my deep dark secrets now we’re married.” You shared a laugh, and standing there amongst the debris of the night before, despite all the mistakes, you knew you were safe, and that the two of you would always be safe together.
🏷️ @sailortongue @bethanyhaas01 @reidscaffeine @high-functioning-cosplayer @average-sunflower @multifandom-on-the-side @anniewhalelover @prentissesredtanktop @abbyshmaby @academiareid @hugyourlungs @w-windy @babybluecakes @SwaggySagieWagie@reidandhotchsgirl @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @Zaapsite @daddy-dotcom @bluecandycake
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forhappysake · 1 month
Text
Safe With You
A/N - Another random quick piece, not edited (whoops).
Summary - Spencer comes home from a tough case. Reader tries to figure out what's bothering him with help from another team member.
Warnings - spencer x fem!reader, BAU level violence, a small lover's spat, a little white lie, fluff at the end, maybe some implied smut
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Spencer was a good man. He’d had his fair share of difficulties, more so than the average person. However, he carried it well most of the time. Almost every time he came home from a case, he was relatively calm. He’d take a shower, fall asleep in bed, and forget about this case so he could focus on moving on to the next one. 
However, after he came home this evening, you could tell he was struggling with something. He paced around your shared living room, occasionally digging the heel of his hand into his eyes as if trying to wipe away some bad thought. You let it go at first, hoping he would join you on the couch. However, after ten minutes of his constantly shuffling back and forth, you decided to put an end to it. 
You rose from the couch, walking slowly over to him. Spencer had stopped at the edge of his desk, leaning over the hard oak surface to skim over some papers scattering the desktop. You gently placed your hands on his shoulders, a soft reminder of your presence. Almost immediately you could feel his shoulders drop as he released some tension into your touch. Without a word, you gently massaged the knot you felt forming at the base of his neck. 
“Don’t you think it’s time to go take a shower, honey?” you prompted gently, not wanting to upset him any more than he already was. 
Though he had leaned into your touch, you could feel him tense up a bit at the suggestion. Spencer looked down, checking the silver watch he wore on his wrist. He let out a soft sigh. He’d already been home for over an hour and had yet to settle into his typical routine. 
“Maybe so,” he mumbled. He slipped out from between you and the desk, making quick work of crossing the living room and entering the bathroom where he promptly shut the door behind him. 
You frowned at his inability to confide in you, knowing you wouldn’t be able to rest until you got to the bottom of what was going on. You looked over the files on his desk, looking for any sign of what might have upset him. He was particularly set off when cases involved children, all of the BAU were. But from this file, it didn’t seem like there was anything out of the ordinary that would make him act this way. You slunk away from the desk, feeling defeated before a thought crossed your mind: Penelope Garcia. 
You padded over to the kitchen counter to grab your phone. Scrolling through your contacts, you quickly dialed the blond computer genius and your favorite of Spencer’s many coworkers. Something about her was always so kind, so welcoming, and you knew she would be more than happy to help you figure out what was bothering Spencer. 
The phone rang once before a bubbly voice spoke from the other end of the line, “Penelope Garcia at your service,” she chided. 
“Hey, Penelope. I need help with something,” you said, not wanting to take up any more of her time than you needed to. Aside from that, you’d hate to find out what Spencer would say if he found you out here trying to get information from his coworkers. 
“Of course! Is everything okay?” she asked, concern seeping into her voice. 
“What? Oh! Yes, e-everything is fine,” you stuttered as you tried to listen for any sign that Spencer might be coming out of the bathroom. “I’ll have to make this call quick. Do you happen to know why Spencer came home so upset this evening?” 
Penelope’s end of the line was silent for a moment as she thought. “Actually, I might have an idea,” she hummed. You could hear her clacking away on a keyboard in the background, and you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of amazing multitasking skills this woman had. “This last case was pretty routine,” Penelope said, “except for the victims, in Spencer’s case.” 
You furrowed your brow. “What do you mean?” you asked. 
“They were very… similar to you, in a lot of ways. Eye color, hair color, even height. The bad guy was some jilted lover, after women who looked like the lady who’d done him wrong. Spencer, of course, thought of you nearly immediately when we saw the victim profiles. Really, we all did. He took it pretty hard.” 
Your frown turned into a grimace at the implication of Penelope’s words. “Oh but Penelope, that’s ridiculous. That case was a thousand miles away. Spencer knows I was safe here the whole time.” 
You heard Penelope tsk on the other end of the line. “That may be so, deary, but that can’t stop his genius mind from running a million miles a minute. JJ said she hadn’t seen him so worked up in a year.” 
You could hardly believe what you were hearing. You knew Spencer was protective, but you didn’t know he could get so upset over something so far out there. You shook the thoughts away from your head as you heard the shower shut off in the bathroom. “Well, I’d better go before he gets out of the bathroom. Thank you for the information, Penelope. You’re a lifesaver.”
“Don’t sweat it, mi amor. Good luck with boy genius.” With that, Penelope’s end of the line went dead and you were left with nothing but a cell phone in your hands as Spencer walked out of the bathroom. 
“Who were you talking to?” he asked, an eyebrow raised. His t-shirt clung to his damp frame as he ran a hand over the stubble on his chin. Spencer knows you have an aversion to talking on the phone. Something about texting is just so much more convenient. 
“Uh-” you tried to think of a quick lie. Anything but the truth would be perfect at this moment. “JJ. Michael couldn’t sleep. He wanted to know if you could tell him a bedtime story on FaceTime, but I told her you seemed pretty worn out and said you could do it tomorrow night instead.” That wasn’t a terrible lie. Michael had always loved Spencer’s stories, and at least once a month Spencer was bound by his godfather-duties to provide a new bedtime story. 
Spencer nodded, a strand of wet hair falling in front of his face. “I guess I’m due up for another one, aren’t I?” he asked rhetorically. He turned from you, heading down the hallway to the bedroom. You couldn’t help but wonder why, if Spencer was so worried about you, he didn’t seem to want to talk to you. 
You left your phone on the counter and followed him to the bedroom, slipping in the bedroom door and shutting it. By the time you reached the edge of the bed, Spencer had already slipped into his side and turned off his bedside lamp. You sighed. Maybe it was best not to push him. Surely he’d open up with some time. Right?
Defeated for the evening and confused by your boyfriend’s actions, you tucked yourself into your side of the bed before turning your light off. The darkness consuming the room only reminded you of the lack of his body pressed against yours as you drifted off to sleep.
***
When you awoke only two hours later, you immediately rolled over, expecting to be greeted by Spencer in the bed next to you. However, you were instead met with an empty space. The covers were messily left at the bottom of the bed as if he’d left in a hurry. You felt a small panic rising in your chest. Had he left for a case and not even told you? 
You hopped out of bed and quickly left the bedroom, nearly jogging down the hallway to your living room. You could see that Spencer’s desk lamp was on, and thankfully his silhouette was visible behind the light. He looked up when you entered, only to look back down at the papers on his desk when it was clear you were looking for him. 
“What are you doing?” you asked. 
“Couldn’t sleep,” he said shortly. If you’d been frustrated by your boyfriend’s actions earlier, his tone now was enough to spark a small anger in your chest. 
You took a deep breath, deciding on a plan of action. You decided to start simple, hoping it would get you somewhere. “Spence, what’s the matter?”
He didn’t look up to acknowledge you, instead choosing to flip through some more files on his desk. “I told you, I couldn’t sleep. Go back to bed.” That’s enough, you thought, his attitude making your jaw clench. 
“Look at me, Spencer,” you said pointedly. The sharpness of your voice surprised even you. Spencer nearly jumped, and you could see the guilt pooling in his eyes as he slowly made eye contact with you for the first time since arriving home. 
“Thank you,” you said. You approached his desk, perching yourself on the edge. “Do you care to tell me why you’ve been ignoring me since you got home?” 
Spencer sighed, closing the file in front of him and looking up at you. He scanned your face as he calculated a reply. “I had a bad case,” he said frankly. He wasn’t being dishonest, but you could tell he was holding something back. 
“Okay,” you said, noting your acceptance of this half-truth. “Why was it a bad case?” 
Spencer shrugged. “Anytime people die it’s a bad case, Y/N.” 
You let out a bitter laugh as you stood up from the edge of the desk, walking over to the sofa. “I get that, Spencer. But usually when you say its a ‘bad case,’” you made air quotes with your fingers, “something specific really bothers you. I want to know what it was.”
You looked back up at him, noticing that he’d closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. If he wasn’t being so stubborn, you’d have happily climbed in his lap and appreciated his beauty, but now wasn’t the time. You’d nearly given up on getting your answer. You thought about turning away from him and going back to the bedroom, but it was then that he spoke. 
“They all looked like you,” he said bitterly. 
“Who?” you asked. 
Spencer cleared his throat, grimacing as if a bad taste entered his mouth. “All the victims. They looked just like you. I couldn’t stop… I couldn’t get it out of my head.” He spoke quietly, but honestly, and you felt relief flood you as he finally told you the truth. 
“Spencer,” you walked over to him once more, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m safe here. You know nothing is going to happen to me.”
He whirled around in his chair quickly, eyes wide. “I don’t know that! Especially when I’m halfway across the country. Why doesn’t anyone get it?” he stood up from his chair, running a hand through his messy hair as he began to pace again. 
“Help me understand,” you pleaded, sliding down into his desk chair. “I can’t help you if I don’t understand.”
“It’s just-” he took a deep breath, planting his feet flat on the floor to keep himself still as he started talking. “It’s just that everyone kept telling me ‘Nothing like this could ever happen to her!’ They don’t know that. I’ve seen terrible things happen to people ‘nothing could ever happen to.’” 
You fell silent, looking down at your hands folded in your lap. Spencer had seen a lifetime of trauma in his thirty-some years. You knew Spencer worried for you. You only wished you could take the burden away from him. 
“I’m sorry,” you murmured. 
“No-” Spencer shook his head. He walked over to where you sat in the desk chair, getting down on one knee so the two of you were at eye level. “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry I was rude to you. You didn’t do anything, and it was unfair of me. Just know it’s only because I care.”
“I know you do. But, I do have to apologize. I lied earlier.” 
Spencer pulled back from you, a small frown painting his face. “Lied? About what?” 
“I was on the phone with Penelope. I wanted to know why you were upset. She filled me in.”
Spencer’s formerly furrowed brows relaxed as your words sank in. “Oh Garcia,” he sighed, “what would any of us do without her?”
You shook your head. “I don’t know,” you said truthfully. “What I do know is that I love you, and I need you to know that I’m as safe as I can be with you.” 
Spencer met your eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His eyes seemed glazed over, nearly teary. “I love you too. You know that?”
You nodded, reaching for him as he wrapped his arms around your waist. The two of you stayed like that for a minute, appreciating each other’s warmth, when you felt yourself suddenly being lifted off the chair and into the air. 
“Hey! Where are we going?” you asked, a small laugh leaving your lips as you wrapped your legs around his waist. 
“To bed,” he said into your shoulder as he walked you both towards the bedroom. “I’ve been neglecting my girlfriend for the past four hours. I think she deserves a good night’s rest.”
You pulled back from him, arms resting gently around his neck as he carried you into the bedroom. “I can think of a lot of things I deserve,” you joked. 
Spencer smirked mischievously. “Thank god I don’t have work tomorrow,” he said as he shut the bedroom door behind him.
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izurou · 1 year
Text
LOST IN THE FIRE FT. BAKUGOU KATSUKI
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synopsis: katsuki has never thought about children, but today the thought consumes him from the inside out, and so do you.
contains: female reader. adult pro hero bakugou. established relationship. unprotected sex. a creampie. parental themes ie; mentions of pregnancy and children + reader being a mother. kats has a raging breeding kink and is so super in love! 3.1k wc.
note: sounds so dramatic at the beginning but i swear it is not serious like that :c either way i hope you like it < 3
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you drive katsuki insane.
sure, you have your moments—times when you’re unimaginably annoying and butt heads with him over every possible thing, but that’s not what drives him up the wall—it’s the thoughts.
the pesky, never ending thought of you. you’re always there—day or night, rain or shine, like a pretty little parasite living between his ears.
he almost mistook it for a quirk, the way you spread like wildfire through his brain, scorching every inch in the process—but he’s since learned that that was just his way of experiencing love, which, at the time seemed a lot worse.
to this day, you burn hot in his mind—an eternal flame that has no sign of dying out anytime soon.
some days you’re dull, a soft yellow hue flickering in the background as he’s on patrol—too focused on whatever bastard he’s pursuing to ignite the thought of you. some days you’re bright, a fiery orange blaze glowing behind his eyes as you kiss down his torso—intensifying the lower you go.
and every so often, you’ll do or say something that threatens an all out explosion inside his head.
“katsuki!” you gasp, cupping a hand over your mouth as you shuffle into the kitchen, where your boyfriend is tossing spinach into the blender.
“what?!” he whips his head around at light speed, worry woven into his tone as he immediately sifts through a file of the worst-case scenarios. did someone die?
“guess what i just found,” you mumble into your palm, staring down at your phone in the other.
his features soften out upon hearing your words, and who knows, maybe it will be your dramatics that tip him over the edge.
he’s pretty when he’s not wearing a frown—with the morning sun seeping through the window and painting a streak of light onto him, defining the discoloured scar in the middle of his chest, and causing the thin silver chain just above it to glint.
“jesus christ,” he rolls his eyes, turning back to his half assed, thrown together smoothie. last he heard, you were shopping online for groceries the two of you had to pick up later this afternoon—so that tomorrow’s smoothie doesn’t end up like this one, shit. “what?”
“guess!” you grin, clutching your phone near your heart in a display of love for your recent find.
“hell if i know,” he mumbles—the muscles on his back rippling as he slices the tops off of some strawberries. “that damn ice cream you always inhale?”
he’s not wrong in thinking you had been browsing the frozen treats, he knows you well, you’ll give him that—but you placed the order ten minutes ago, and found a new website to entertain you.
“no,” you huff, dragging your slippers against the tile as you inch closer, stopping beside him. “and i shared with you last time, thank you very much.”
“huh?” he wraps an arm behind you, momentarily resting his palm against your ass before pinching at the fat. “one bite isn’t sharing, princess.”
you choose to let that comment fall on deaf ears, quickly spinning the conversation back to where you want it as you hold your phone out.
“look!” you beam, watching his gaze travel over the screen. it’s a picture of a little black onesie with two tiny gauntlets on it, and the words baby dynamight printed in orange and green lettering.
“what about it?” he mutters, not giving anywhere near the amount of excitement as you had hoped.
he thinks he recalls hearing about this—probably had the design shoved in his face the minute he walked into the agency and absentmindedly gave the go ahead because, he didn’t, still doesn’t, and most likely will never give a shit about what other people put on themselves, or their children.
“it’s cute asshole,” you huff, a little disappointed, but not surprised by his reaction in the slightest. you lean your head against his shoulder, looking on as his big, strong hands cut through the fruit with the utmost care. “doesn’t it make you want to have babies?”
“no,” he says, lifting a strawberry halve over his shoulder and holding it for you to bite. “does it make you wanna have ‘em?”
“yeah,” you confess.
“yeah?” he’s in disbelief. to his knowledge, you’ve never expressed the desire to have children, and if he’s honest, katsuki isn’t sure that he even wants them—he’s never given much thought to the idea.
“yeah,” you repeat, biting the fruit out of his hand. you lift your head up and smile—making sure that he knows you really mean it. “a mini us would be so cute, don’t you think? as long as they don’t get your temper, or that resting bitch face of yours.”
how utterly cruel of you to tack on a snarky little comment like that, especially after such a heavy one. he doesn’t know if that’d be cute, he’s never imagined it—until now, that is. he swears he can feel his skin heating up at the mere thought of having a baby with you, and when he thinks about what he’d have to do—no, what he’d get to do to make that a possibility, his mouth goes bone dry.
he doesn’t want you to take his silence the wrong way though, and so he mutters out the one word he think he can manage.
“yeah.”
with that, he slaps the lid onto the blender and presses the power button, hoping to drown out any further thoughts on the matter.
katsuki spends the following hours thinking about you, specifically, about putting a baby in you. no matter what he does—from eating breakfast to sending a few emails, watching a movie with you to running all your errands together—he just can’t stomp out the embers from earlier that morning.
his thoughts carry over well into the late evening, though you’d never know how strong your effect really is—he’s too well versed in the world of fire and explosives to ever give himself away.
then again, he thinks there might be black smoke coming out of his ears when you invite him into the shower with you before bed—a horrible idea if he knows what’s good for him, but he doesn’t, so in he goes.
“katsuki, we should’ve bought it,” you blurt out, eyeing him up as he rinses the suds from his hair. the muscles along his torso stretch and twist with his movements—crashing waves against his skin that only further your cause.
“huh?” he gently shakes his head around, ridding his locks of any excess water before squinting at you through the one eye that didn’t wind up with shampoo residue in it.
“the baby onesie,” you clarify, snaking your arms around his waist and leaning against his chest in search of warmth—seeing as he’s hogging all the hot water. “what if it’s extinct by the time we have kids?”
we, you and him together.
honestly, he doesn’t know how you do it. he of all people should be indifferent to a little heat—but there you go again, burning him from the inside out.
“it’s my shit, can tell ‘em to make more,” he says, shifting your bodies around so that you’re under the stream of hot water—pure bliss for you both.
“a pink version?” you peer up, blinking through the droplets of water that flock to your eyelashes.
you want a little girl, is that it?
there’s a lump in his throat—another thick cloud of smoke, this time threatening to pour from his mouth. you being pressed up against him isn’t helping either, in fact, all you’re doing is sending all that heat south.
“anything you want, sweetheart,” he responds, pressing a rather short but passionate kiss to your lips—just enough to hold him over.
he’s quick to excuse himself after this, mumbling something about you taking for fucking ever to shave—which, while true, is not why he’s fleeing.
he needs a couple minutes to gather his bearings, to ask himself if he should really do this.
katsuki is responsible, whether it be a condom, or him pulling out the second he feels his cock start to twitch—he’s never finished inside you, but he’s always wanted to.
for him, it’s not the idea of getting you pregnant—that was the one reason he didn’t do it, because he wasn’t ready, nor did he know if a father was something he even wanted to become. instead, he gets off on the thought of him being the only one who gets to cum inside you—you’re his, and that’s one way he’d like to prove it.
however, now that you’ve so easily persuaded him into wanting a mini us—that possibility sounds a lot less like a consequence.
“‘bout damn time,” he scoffs, seeing as how it’s been over twenty minutes and you’re only just shuffling into the room now. “c’mere.”
you watch him sit up and scoot to the edge of the bed, patting his thigh as an invitation for you to come sit. you don’t know what he’s thinking—you’ve barely dried off, still wrapped in your towel and dripping onto the floor every now and then.
“yes?” you ask, holding the fabric tight against your body as you make your way over.
you come to a halt in front of him, seconds away from opening your mouth again to ask what it is he wants—but he pulls you down onto one of his thighs, spreading his legs so that you’re facing towards his vacant one.
“you really wanna have a baby with me?” he’s looking at you with tiny red hearts in his eyes, already sneaking his fingers beneath the fluffy white material sitting loosely on your thighs.
“of course i do,” you smile, how cute of him—like a little puppy begging for a treat. “maybe even two.”
your words set the hearts ablaze, forcing him to see nothing but you—and you might’ve meant of course i do in the future, but all he can see right now, is you.
he kisses you, letting his lips move against yours freely this time—letting his tongue explore your mouth at will. his middle finger dips between your folds, drawing a line from your clit down to the sticky mess waiting below.
you’re excited too.
he breaks the kiss upon feeling how wet you are, drawing his hand back and looking down to catch the little string of arousal that connects his finger to your cunt.
“katsuki!” you gasp, squeezing your legs together out of embarrassment. pressing up against him in the shower didn’t help your case either, clearly.
“want you just as fuckin’ bad,” he assures, gently urging you off his lap—just to tug you back on immediately after, this time to straddle him.
you let the towel pool at your waist, giving katsuki free reign over your tits—to which he swiftly pops one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your nipple and tugging it between his teeth.
“katsuki please,” you sigh, rutting yourself against the bulge in his sweats as you fist a hand through the shorter hairs at the back of his head. you don’t have time for this.
“huh? please what? gonna need some more from you, baby,” he hums, looking up at you through hooded lids—his gaze a deep shade of crimson you’ve never seen before.
“fuck me,” you whine, tugging at his waistband. “please.”
a proud grin flashes across his face—no matter how many times he hears it, the sound of you asking to be fucked will forever be his favourite tune.
“move this shit,” he mumbles, tossing the excess fabric to the floor and running his hands down your sides, over your hips, and along the curve of your ass. “fuckin’ gorgeous.”
he tugs his sweats down just barely enough to free his cock—tip pink and wet, leaking onto his fingers as he lines himself up with your entrance. he runs the head of his cock between your folds, collecting a bit of you on his shaft before pushing in.
you’re warm, always welcoming him with a hug—a tight squeeze of your walls that makes it almost impossible for him to bottom out. he knows you need to adjust before he does that—the thickness of his cock proving to be too much every time.
“relax,” he orders, resting his hand at the base of your throat and kissing you once more—because he knows, all too well, that this combination will have you sinking down onto his shaft, melting into him completely.
once his cock is fully sheathed, and he has you right where he wants you—flush against him with your tits in his face, he gets ahead of himself, and makes the mistake of thinking about cumming in you a little too early.
“mmm, feels so good katsuki,” you babble as you start to move your hips, up and down over and over again, warm velvet walls dragging against the entire length of his cock.
and it’s as if someone cut off the oxygen to your bedroom, he feels like he can’t breathe—all he can do is stare, tunnel visioned on the spot where you and him connect.
he already wants to cum—wants to fill you to the brim, watch it come gushing out, and fuck it right back into you. the thought alone has the corners of his vision tingeing orange—a telltale sign that you’re taking over.
a couple more minutes of you bouncing on his cock, and he can feel a burn in his lower gut—this one much more familiar than the one inside his head. still, he might as well be pronounced dead on the spot when he glances down and sees the little ring of arousal you’re leaving at the base of his shaft.
“shit,” he breathes through gritted teeth—resting the crown of his head against your chest as he tries to hold it together.
being completely oblivious to just how close he is to turning to ash—you start to rub circles onto your clit, readying yourself to cum with him.
you start to flutter around his cock, mindlessly babbling about how close you are, about how you’re going to cum for him—and you feel so good, so warm and tight—but right as his cock begins to twitch, he lifts your hips up, and off.
“fuck, fuck,” he pants, chest heaving as he stares down, watching his precious cum spurt from his tip and run down the sides of his shaft. what a waste.
“katsuki,” you drawl, soft and sweet as you brush the hairs matted to his forehead back. “what’s wrong? too much?”
if he’s honest, he doesn’t know why he did that—maybe it was instinct, something he did out of pure habit, or maybe it was too much, something he didn’t want you to see up close.
“nothin’ baby,” he mutters, grabbing one of your wrists and pressing a kiss to it. you’re so cute, so thoughtful and sweet. “c’mon, switch with me.”
you’re quick to move, knowing exactly what he wants as you go from his lap to the bed. you get on your knees, lowering your chest until your tits are flush against the mattress and your ass is in the air—consequently putting your messy pussy on display.
“atta fuckin’ girl,” he praises, kicking his sweats away and grabbing onto your hips—pulling you back just a little to define the arch he loves to see so much.
his heartbeat pulses in the tips of his fingers as he slides back into you, and he knows, he’s not going to last—still sensitive from his previous orgasm.
he starts to thrust, and it’s just like before—the unmistakable feeling of being consumed, both physically and mentally.
it starts at his feet, the kind of numbness that can be compared to television static. it travels up his legs, bypasses his cock, continues up his torso, and ceases at his neck.
“please kats, cum in me,” you slur, a mindless plea thrown over your shoulder—but one that almost incinerates katsuki right there.
and he’s glad you can’t see him right now, he’s positive he’s never looked more pathetic—head thrown back, eyes screwed shut, and brows knit together in such a way that it makes him look like he’s about to cry.
in all of this, he knows that the one thing able to ground him is still you—and so he pulls you up, tugs on your arms until your back is flush with his chest. his skin is sticky, hot—save for the cool metal of his necklace pressing between your shoulder blades.
“fuck princess,” he growls—rough, coarse, and right against the shell of your ear.
“‘m close katsuki, ‘m gonna cum,” you gasp, cunt fluttering around him at an even faster rate than earlier.
a strangled moan rips from the back of his throat, uncharacteristic, he knows—but he’s never felt this good, never loved the burn as much as he does right now.
his grip tightens to an almost unbearable level, one hand on your throat, the other splayed across your tummy. his breathing is an absolute mess, a string of breathy little pants against the crook of your neck. his heartbeat is everywhere—blaring in his ears, pounding in his chest, throbbing through his cock—and he cums.
he cums hard, face scrunching up as he feels you pulsing on his length, vision going white as he feels his warmth shoot out—it feels so fucking good.
you fall flat against the mattress, resuming your earlier position and snapping katsuki back to reality as you force him to slip out of you.
his eyes are glossed over as he looks down, and it feels like a lifetime passes as he stares at your cunt, waiting—but it comes, his cum, sticky and white as it leaks onto the sheets.
“fuck,” he’s barely audible, with an incredulous look on his face—bringing his index and middle finger up to spread your lips and coax more of himself out. nothing could be hotter, he’s damn sure of it.
satisfied, he flops down onto his back beside you, and he feels calm—like he’s comfortably walking down the streets of his brain as they continue to go up in flame—like he’s in control.
“well?” you say, curling up into yourself as you look at your big, strong, fucked out boyfriend.
“you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he hums, gaze never leaving the ceiling. “gonna be a perfect mom.”
“fucked you that good, huh?”
he turns his head to the side, what the fuck written all over his furrowed brows and scowl, because no—he fucked you, and you know it.
“shaddup,” he groans, playfully placing his palm over your face and pushing gently.
he sits up, leaning over the edge of the bed to grab that towel from earlier—he knew it’d come in handy later.
“hey,” you call out.
he peers over his shoulder at you, and you have definitely, never looked more beautiful.
“maybe even three?”
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doki-doki-imagines · 5 months
Text
They compliment you feat. mk1 bi-han, kitana, kung lao
author note: felt like I was going to explode if I didn't post them today, I hope it's not complete trash LOL.
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Bi-Han: -It was a quiet morning, for once you were the first to wake up, so you started cooking for the both of you. -Then you felt the arms of your lover wrapping around your waist, always so chilly against your body. -You feel his right cheekbone brush against yours, like a kitty searching for affection, then his chin rests on your shoulder, you can feel his black eyes on you. "Dawn creates light and shades on your face, making your feature stand out even more, I didn't think it was possible to make you look even more beautiful." -You choke on your own spit, stunned by the honeyed words dripping from your partner lips. -What was happening? Did Bi-Han hit his head during sparring? In any case, there's no way you'll stop him. -Kettle whistle, but you don't move, still looking at Bi-Han with wide eyes. -He sighs, kisses your cheek, and takes the kettle, pouring the boiling water into his cup, where you previously put the tea bag. -"Moron, if this is your reaction, I'll have to filter my thoughts again." -You shook your head, hell, you don't think you'll ever be able to go back now, his sweet words a drug that got you immediately addicted. Sadly, you aren't used to compliments anymore; you can just stutter out a no, while you feel heath on your cheeks. -Bi-Han smirks at you, a playful gesture you rarely see (and you are still thanking the gods that blessed you this morning) his right hand reaching for the apple of your cheek, pulling it in between his index and middle fingers before snapping it back in place. -"Sit down, I'll make you coffee maybe it will wake you up." -You aren't sure if you want to wake up.
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Kitana: -You are waiting for her to return from work, your stomach churning always worried something bad may have happened. -You are reading a novel when you feel the door of the living room opening. You lift your head up, eager to see your lover come in. -And she does, a ray of sunshine deep into the night. -Kitana walks to you, a tired smile on her face, 'till she reaches you behind the armchair you are sitting on. -"Good night beautiful, first time here?" You say, chuckling at your own silliness. -Kitana chuckles along, the kind that shows the wonderful smile that always makes you understand how lucky you are. -"Since you leave me breathless every time I look at you-" Her face lean closer to yours "maybe it is" her plush lips kiss your forehead before she leaves to change in more comfortable clothing. -You curl on yourself, face hidden inside your book, and you are pretty sure your head is fuming for how fast the gears in your brain are working. -"Don't curl up, dear! You know it's bad for your back" Kitana shouts from your shared bedroom "I don't want my princess to get back pain" she whispers the last part. -Maybe one day she will get bold enough to freely speak her mind, for now you'll have to cheerish this rare moment of softness.
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Kung Lao: -You tried a new recipe today, made with the fresh vegetables Kung Lao and Raiden picked up at dawn. -Saying you were nervous is a euphemism. You didn't want to fail, but even more to thrash the food your friend and boyfriend grew and picked up after so much effort. -You put the food on the table, useless to say to start the meal, Kung Lao cheeks were already full, and Raiden followed soon. -The judgment arrived soon, the burp coming from your partner mouth a telltale sign and a bad habit you still weren't able to correct. -"My love, the food was amazing, delicious!" Kung Lao stands up, arms open ready to embrace your body "Not that I have any doubts, your cooking skill just another plus of my wonderful-" He kisses your nose "amazing-" his lips touch your left cheek "beautiful dove" his lips finally rest on yours. -You reciprocate the kiss, but your mind is elsewhere, so used to Kung Lao singing his own praises without sparing a nice word to anybody else, you didn't expect so many compliments. -You break the kiss when you hear Raiden coughing in the background, heath flooding your face while your boyfriend was totally unaffected, still looking at you with that softness he always reserves for you. -Kung Lao soon returns at the table to finish the meal together with Raiden, and then they both go back to train. -But not before smooching your cheek, lips staining your skin with, what you guessed was the juice of the peach Kung Lao eat before going back to work. -You clean yourself with the back of your hand before going back to work, the comoliments of your boyfriend still reverberating into your brain, a nice intrusive thought that won't leave you for the rest of the day.
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midastouch013 · 25 days
Text
" I love you" (Fluff version)
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Summary: You've been dating a while now, so what happens when you finally tell the special three words
Warnings: None
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The soft glow of the television cast a warm light across the room as you and Natasha lounged on the couch, recovering from the intensity of the latest mission. The air was thick with unspoken words, and you could feel Natasha's guarded demeanor beside you, even though she was cuddled up to you. Despite the close quarters, there was a distance she maintained, a fortress built around her emotions that seemed impenetrable.
As the familiar theme song of FRIENDS played, you couldn't help but steal glances at Natasha. Her focus was on the screen, but her mind seemed elsewhere. Taking a deep breath, you decided it was time to address the conversation that had been lingering between you.
"Nat," you began, your voice soft and reassuring. "There's something I need to get off my chest?"
She turned her head to look at you, her blue eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Natasha's guard never seemed to fully drop, even in the moments you shared together. You took a moment to gather your thoughts, searching for the right words.
"I love you," you reiterated, your heart pounding in your chest. "I know we're already together, but I wanted to make sure you knew how much you mean to me. I understand if you don't feel the same way, but I needed you to know. Whatever happens, I'm here for you, Natasha."
Natasha's expression remained unreadable, and for a moment, you feared you had overstepped. The seconds ticked by, the weight of the unspoken response hanging in the air. She didn't reply immediately, leaving you in a state of nervous anticipation, but she didn't move away from your grip, so you took that as a good sign.
Days passed, and the atmosphere between you and Natasha seemed unchanged. You continued to support her in missions, offer a comforting presence, and share moments of quiet kisses and humor filled snarks. Still, the words lingered between you, unresolved.
One evening, after a particularly challenging mission, you found Natasha in the common area, nursing a glass of whiskey. Her gaze was distant, lost in the memories of the day's events. Without a word, you sat down beside her, offering a silent presence, which she took up on, moving closer to you, leaning her head on your shoulder.
After a moment, you reached for the remote and turned on the TV, choosing an episode of FRIENDS. The familiar humor provided a welcomed distraction from the weight of the world. As the laughter from the show echoed in the room, the redhead's shoulders relaxed, and she leaned into you.
"I've been thinking a lot about what you said," she began, her voice low and contemplative. "It wasn't that I didn't feel the same way. It's just… I've never been good at expressing these things."
You chuckled softly, breaking the tension. "Well, lucky for you, I'm fluent in decoding Natasha Romanoff. It's a unique language, but I'm getting the hang of it."
A small smile tugged at the corners of Natasha's lips, and she nudged you playfully. "Fluent, huh? Impressive. Not many people can claim that skill."
"I'm a quick learner," you replied with a grin, your fingers gently brushing against hers.
She took a deep breath, her fingers intertwining with yours. "I love you too," she whispered softly, her words almost drowned out by the sitcom's canned laughter.
You looked at her in surprise, and Natasha met your gaze, her eyes finally revealing the vulnerability she had shielded for so long.
"It took me a while to realize it," she admitted, a small smile playing on her lips. "But I do. I love you."
With those words, the lingering tension evaporated. You shifted closer to her, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss. It was a soft, reassuring connection that spoke volumes without the need for more words. As you pulled away, Natasha's eyes held a warmth that mirrored your own feelings.
"In case you were wondering," she said with a playful smirk, "I'm fluent in a few languages myself."
You chuckled, the air between you now filled with a newfound ease. You leaned back, allowing Natasha to rest against your shoulder as the laughter from the TV continued to fill the room.
You loved her, and she loved you, that's all you needed.
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liyawritesss · 6 months
Note
YOUR EARTH 42 MILES FIC WAS SO FUCKING GOOD OMFG👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾 of your taking requests can you write about how prowler miles met his girl and how he rizzed her up please? Only if you want to of course and again I only read one thing by you but your writing got me hooked!!!!
ᴀʟʟ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪꜱ ɪ ʙᴇ ʟᴏᴠɪɴ' ʏᴏᴜ
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Characters: Spiderverse!Earth-42!Miles Morales x Black!Fem!Reader
Type: Fic
Word Count: 3.7k
Synopsis: The sequel to i really like what you’ve done to me, Miles reflects on his first encounter with you, and how he immediately made it his mission to make you his.
Warnings: Cursing….thats about it, I think
A/N: This was a long one in the making and I think I actually like my characterization of 42!miles here. I didn’t wanna make him overly edgy or overly hood or anything, and I hope that you guys will appreciate the subtlety of his personality here. Hope you all enjoy!
Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @niyahwrites @marsfunzon22 @briology @honeybleed @romiantic @queenofthespiderverse @onlyperc @starsoirees @yasminisbroke @asensitivecookie @kdyance @sussybaka10 @famedrs-blog @milesismyhubby @foreclosure--of--a--dream
Sign Up For My Taglist Here
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Miles remembers the day he first talked to you so clearly. It was almost as if it were yesterday. 
The middle of the semester had always been prime time for teachers to start assigning end of semester projects, and while Miles was lucky enough for majority of his classes to have only assigned him individual projects, there was always one class that such a fortune was never the case in. 
When the teacher was calling out pairs there was a part of Miles that dreaded who his partner would be. He hoped it wasn't a slacker - he'd had his fair share of irritation and headache from those types of students who never took their schooling seriously. Then again, he didn't necessarily have to, either, considering his uncensored brilliance already, but at least he still made an effort to look like he made an effort. Others didn't have the same sentiment.
He didn't know  most of his classmates personally, but knew the ones he needed to know by name and face; due to previous instances of being paired with them for projects in this same fashion. The fact that most of his old project partners were consistently placed in the same classes as him reinforced the begrudging familiarity that came with them. Though there were a few select people out of that circle that he'd found himself knowing of due to other circumstances - clumsiness in the halls, points of contact for school activities, etc. 
So when the teacher called Miles' name and the name of his partner, it wasn't a surprise to himself when his head turned to the side to look for them. What did surprise him, however, was when he turned to the seat next to him, only to have found it empty. 
He can't recall if he's ever seen the seat empty since he's been in this class, missing the presence of the person who he deemed to be a good student. Always on time, always exact; work turned in, always complete, and always paying attention to the lectures. Their own interactions were limited to the passing of worksheets,  exchanges of pencils and the occasional conversations of how irritating the teacher was being.
Miles wouldn't consider the shared interactions to be that one friendship - it was more akin to general acquaintanceship. Though, deciphering her character from said limited interactions, he knew that this was not in normal behavior for the girl. Eyebrows furrowed at the lack of her presence, questioning where she could have been.
Since his partner wasn't there, Miles had been left with a brainstorming worksheet to fill out on his own, but his mind was not on the project. He found himself still wondering about his partner's whereabouts. He could have sworn he'd seen her that day, walking the halls with the same two girls she'd been friends with since the school year started. While the same two girls were in class, having been paired together for the project, the missing girl wasn't. So, when the ring of the bell sounded, signaling the end of the day, Miles knew what his first course of action was to be.
"Aye, yo," his voice carries over to the two girls who'd been packing their supplies up, ready to begin their after school activities of sneaking off campus to go to the mall, "where yo' friend at?"
The first girl, with soft locs pulls into a high pony and shiny lip gloss adorning her lips, who he knew by the name of Key, scrunched her face in a grimace
 "What's it to you, boy?" She says chastely, giving him a quick once over.
"C'mon, nah," Miles presses, "y'all know she my partner for this stupid project. I'm just tryna get this shit over with, a'ight?"
The other friend answers next - one of his ex-project partners Taji - her chin resting in her hand, fingers decorated with matte brown coffin shaped nails resting against her cheek. "We ain't seen her since lunch. Said she was gon' go to her locker for sumn' but ain't never come back to the table."
Miles' brow arches, as if quizzing her answer, trying to determine the validity of it. Taji catches onto this, and shoots a similar expression back to him.
"What, you thinkin' I'm lyin' to you, nigga?"
"Are you, Taj?"
"Boy, what I got to lie to you for?"
Taji and Miles had a similar acquaintanceship to that of him and (Y/N), with the former being his partner for a project for their shared arts class in their sophomore year. She was a talented artist, not to mention the one person able to reawaken his love for art, even if it was to a small degree. 
"A'ight, whatever, y'all ain't no help."
He let out a sigh, dismissing the girls’ seemingly secretive antics with a wave of his hand, before tucking the same one in his pocket, preparing to leave the classroom. He didn’t have time to entertain the two girls before him, and believed it best to leave them be and return to his dorm room to figure out the project on his own.
“Check the rooftops,” Miles heard Taji say as half of his body begins to cross the threshold of the classroom door. It makes the boy stop in his tracks, turning his head back to see the two girls as they stand as well, gathering their belongings to leave for the day as well, “or somewhere around there.”
“The rooftops are locked, dummy,” Miles corrects, “janitors here ain’t that lazy and ignorant.”
“Oh, so you weren’t just up there a week ago?” Taji replies back, a tinge of tease in her voice, knowing she’s caught him red handed when a small bulge forms on his cheek. 
“Yeah, nigga, tighten up, cuz you lackin’.”
“Shut up, big head.”
The faint echo of snickering lingers as Miles leaves the classroom, heavy footsteps carrying him down the hall to the maintenance door that leads to the rooftops. 
It’s a routine he’s done many times before, the muscle memory set into motion the second he sees the custodian cart next to the doorway, with the clip of keys attached to the lanyard hanging off the side handle. Expert fingers grab hold of the clip and slide off the first bronze colored key distinguishable for all the maintenance doors in the building - including the rooftop door. Before the custodian exits the bathroom situated next to the maintenance door, Miles is long gone and heads up the next three flights of stairs to reach the navy blue metal door to the school's rooftop. 
Miles had become well acquainted with the rooftop of Visions Academy. After the death of his father, he found solace in solitude. He couldn’t skip school and stay in his dorm or return to his apartment, because both would result in his mother worrying and stressing over him and his uncle getting on his ass about the importance of school and sending his mother into more distress than what she was already enduring. He’d come across the remote haven on accident; one morning when he arrived at school earlier than anyone else, he’d made a wrong turn into what he thought was his homeroom, but upon recognizing the darker and tinier corridor he had entered, realized he had in fact entered one of the maintenance hallways. Curiosity got the better of the dark skinned boy, and upon climbing the three flights of stairs, came across an unlocked metal door that lead to the school's rooftop.
For months, that would be his routine. Arriving a couple of hours before classes began to spend time by himself upon the school’s rooftop. He’d watch the sunrise above the Brooklyn skyline, allowing the heat to melt the cold exterior of his skin, shaking off the bitterness that came from lack of sleep and a racing mind from the night before. Miles and the morning sun became good acquaintances that way, greeting each other at each sunrise; it became one of very few things he looked forward to in those days, and continued to be his secret motivation to peel himself from his bed in the morning to attend the school his mother and father worked hard to put him in.
His hand grasps onto the door hand and twists, pushing the door outward and Miles is immediately washed in the evening sun. He steps onto the concrete ground, scanning the area in front of him for the presence of another. The corner in which he usually occupies is empty, and there’s nothing much to see at the moment but scattered leaves on top of firm grayness.
Black and white Jordan turn and trail around the side of the rooftop doorway, still searching for any sign of another's presence. Taji’s tip is proven correct when his eyes land upon a feminine figure, and there’s a slight wave of relief crosses his face upon finally finding the girl who’d been missing from class two hours before.
“Yo.” Miles calls out to her, and yet there is no reaction. With his eyebrows furrowed, he calls out again, but there is no response once again. He begins to walk further towards her, confusion beginning to settle in, but is then relieved when he notices a book in her lap; as well as earbuds that become visible the closer Miles steps towards her.
There’s a peaceful air that surrounds the girl, and there’s a part of Miles that doesn’t want to disturb her, but as much respect as he has for the other, he’ll be damned if he has to wait until next week to explain this project to her. So, with a short sigh, Miles reaches his hand out to touch her shoulder, calling out to the girl for the third time.
“Aye-” he begins, and all it takes is a touch on her shoulder for the girl to jump away from his touch in shock. A short yelp - more like a squeak, if anything - erupted from her mouth, which made Miles purse his lips tight to keep the snort he wanted to release at bay.
“Jesus, fuck-” you curse, shoulders dropping and a sigh leaving your lips the moment you realized who it was.
“You know that’s dangerous, right?” Miles asks, raising a finger to create circular motions towards his own ear before gesturing to you. “Having those things in on max; what if you was out on the street?”
A scowl forms on your lips as you take out one of your earbuds, stopping the music you had filtering into your ears as you were deep into your reading. You held the book by the spine, thumb placed in between the pages and forefinger on the hardcover spine. “I know not to do that on the street,” you reply, “I was just tryna read my book, before you decided to scare the living shit out of me.”
The boy rolls his eyes at your words, then follows your form as you take to sitting on the concrete ground, using the side of the ventilation bed to lean against. A second of silence passes between the two of you, before Miles finds himself sitting in the spot you once occupied, with wiring fans sounding behind him softly.
“You ain’t come to class today,” Miles voices, hands tucked into the pockets of his black and white Brooklyn letterman jacket as he focuses his gaze onto you. The soft click of you closing your earbud case sounds as you pocket them into your jacket to give the other male your attention, “what was that about?”
It takes you a minute to respond, and Miles isn’t sure if it was because you were coming up with an excuse that would satisfy him, or if you were buying your time for the question to be unanswered. “You know we got them projects assigned today, right?”
“That’s exactly why I ain’t go,” you answer, finally, “there’s an odd number in that class. Was hoping that I’d just be able to do somethin’ by myself instead of being partnered with some lazy ass who don’t be doin’ shit for real.”
“Damn,” the boy breathes with a chuckle, amused by her colorful choice of words, “ain’t even give me a chance and I’m already being called lazy, that’s crazy.”
It takes you a moment to catch on to his tease, at first furrowing your brows as you deciphered what his words meant. As realization dawned on you, your brows rose apologetically, having now realized the possible severity of your words. 
“No, wait- shit, I didn’t mean like that-”
“You cool, chill,” the dark skinned boy reassures, “I know what you mean.”
He watches as another sigh leaves your lips, in relief that your words were not misunderstood, but also in response to his little joke, and he can’t help but to chuckle again. “You right, though. Don’t nobody in that class do shit for real.”
That little jest did garner a laugh from you, and Miles can tell it’s one of comfort and ease. It’s the kind of laugh his mother would share with him after a long shift at the hospital where she’d have to put up a professional front, and she finally is able to shed the protective exterior and be her cheeky self. It’s the kind of laugh that signifies the forming of bond between people; the development of a relationship; the start of something new.
“A’ight, here’s the deal,” says Miles, his hand coming from the pocket of his jacket, rubbing his nose out of habit, then leaning on his knee to grow closer to you, “we both don’t wanna do this project ‘cus it’s a waste of time-”
“A huge waste of time-”
“-but if we do this project, I can prove to you I’m not a lazy ass.”
He watches as you feign a look of thought, eyes casted upward, lips pursed together with a little hum rumbling from your throat. After a moment, your eyes geared over towards Miles, a teasing smile gracing your lips, before finally answering him; “A’ight, sure.”
You start to rise, and Miles does as well, outstretching a hand to help you up from your seating position. As you dust off the bottom of your skirt from the debris on the ground, Miles picks up your bookbag from the ground and hands it to you once you’ve adjusted yourself appropriately. 
If Miles would have been told that he would be dating the girl who was partnered with him for their end of year project, he’d look at you as if you just called him out of his name. And yet, as he glances down at his phone, eyes scanning over your good morning messages together, he finds himself secretly thanking that teacher for pairing them up; he wouldn’t have had it any other way.
“Hey, Unc?” says the younger, breaking the comfortable silence shared between the two, the ambiance of the morning radio the only sound echoing throughout the car.
“Yeah?” For a second, Miles purses his lips together. He spends a few seconds looking down at the screen of his phone and at the road ahead, as if contemplating on his next words carefully. It doesn’t take much for Aaron to notice the shift in behavior. “What is it?”
The younger’s tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, creating an extrusion on the side of Miles’ face, before he speaks; “You hungry?”
It’s an odd question posed, Aaron thinks, as it’s one that’s honestly never been posed in this section of their shared routine. Once a job was finished, especially when it went well into the night, and cleanup and debriefing happened during the early morning hours, both were too exhausted to let the thought of hunger cross their minds. Aaron raises an eyebrow at the question, beckoning the younger to explain further, “Am I…hungry?”
“Yeah,” says Miles, “my girl, she uh, she made breakfast, and asked if I wanted a plate. So I was askin’ you if you wanted one too-”
The look on Aaron’s face turned from confusion to bewilderment, and the previous expression was mirrored onto Miles’ face the second his sentence finished. “Why you lookin’ like that?”
A moment passed. A smile cracks onto Aaron’s face, a chuckle falls from his thick lips, a teasing tone already etched into his voice as he begins to speak.
“Oh no-”
“Aww, shit-!”
“Please, tio, don’t-”
“She can cook, too?”
And for the next few second, Miles is sunken into the passenger seat as all he can do is allow the onslaught of teasing and pestering from his uncle to cause heat to rise up his neck at a staggering temperature. In between the questions of other endearing qualities his nephew’s girlfriend may have had, the GPS within the car directs the older to said girlfriend’s address, of which had been keyed in during Aaron’s banter. Amidst it all, the growling of their stomachs was undeniable.
After a series of turns, the pair eventually reached your block, the familiar brownstone buildings and plotted trees along the sidewalk illuminated beautifully by the morning sun. “Right here,” Miles says as he points to the specific brownstone with your address on it, the older easily slipping into the parking spot in front of the building.
The younger mumbles a ‘be right back’ before he slips from the car, leaving Aaron in his own solitude, finding amusement in the entire ordeal. Never had he thought he’d be offered a plate of food by his nephew’s girl, and yet, he finds himself reliving the almost identical situation to the time Jefferson wanted to pull up to Rio’s home for a warm plate of empanadas. It had been the first time he had met Rio, and if Miles was anything like his father, then this would be the first time he’d meet the girl that stole his nephew’s heart.
Thirty minutes pass before Miles emerges from the reddish-brown door, and Aaron would have told the boy off for having him wait for long for a plate he offered, if he hadn’t seen the young lady he’d assume to be his girlfriend trailing behind the dark skinned boy.
“Remember, the one on top is your uncles since he doesn’t like pork bacon. And be careful because the food is still hot, I don’t want y’all to burn your mouths-”
“Baby,” Miles says, his tone warm and comforting as his freehand comes to your waist, the other holding the white bag of styrofoam containers containing the breakfast you had prepared, “I know, it’s okay. I’m not gon’ steal his turkey bacon.”
“Yeah, you better not.” You mumble against the skin of his cheek before pressing your lips to the soft skin, pressing deep into the flesh as if to burn the imprint of your lips onto his skin. Once your lips parted from the first kiss, a series of pecks met Miles’ cheek, causing the boy to smile unconsciously by the softness of your touch.
Miles’ wandering eyes caught the sight of his uncle peering through the car window, snickering at the pair, but just as soon as he was caught, the older resumed his original position; though the attempt to restrain the tug on his lips proved to be a struggle. “Is that your uncle?” You ask, innocent but hesitant, not wanting to cross a boundary. Though the state of your relationship was healthy and stable, with lots of communication and expressions of love shared amongst the both of you, Miles had made it clear that easing you into meeting his mother and uncle would be something to take seriously. They were all he had left, and he wanted to make sure that what the two of you had, and were working to develop, was something long term and lasting. The last thing he wanted was for his relationship to crash and burn the second he wanted to connect the most significant people in his life together.
“Yeah, that’s him,” Miles replies, a slight tug on one side of his lips as he turns to glance at the car, then back towards you, “do you wanna say hi?”
You barely understood the words the other had asked you before nodding excitedly. Though as the two of you descended down the tan concrete stairs, across the sidewalk and to the side of the care, the revelation slowly dawned on you that you were meeting Miles’ uncle, and you had no idea why all of a sudden you felt conscious of the loungewear set you’d chosen to dawn that morning while you made breakfast, or the fact that if was through the window of his car - both being the exact opposite of how you wanted your first meeting with Miles’ family to go.
Aaron took the hint with both of you approaching the car, and rolled down the passenger window to speak to the two of you clearly.
“Unc,” Miles starts, taking his hand from your waist to gesture between you and Aaron, “this is (Y/N); and babe, this is my Uncle Aaron.”
There seemed to be a second of stalling on your end, before you took a step forward, bending at the knees slightly to meet Aaron’s eyes. His one hand rested on the steering wheel, his other arm leaning on the arm rest, propping him up.
“Hi, Mr. Davis,” you said, doing your bets to refrain from stuttering, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Hello to you, too, miss lady,” the older replies, “it’s nice to meet you, too. I heard you made breakfast for us?”
You nodded with a polite smile, “I was just in the mood to cook, and I figured Miles may be hungry; he said you were with him, so I only thought it right to make you a plate, too.”
Aaron purses his lips together in an expression of approval, eyes moving from yours to his nephews as his head bobbing in a slow motion. “Oh, yeah, she’s good, man.”
“Tio, please-” Miles whines, which garners a chuckle from his uncle and a giggle from you; and for a second, the feeling that formed in the pit of his stomach the first time he made you laugh returns. The kind of laughs that signifies the forming of a bond between people; the development of a relationship… the start of something new. It’s from that, that Miles knows that any worries of his family not liking you vanishes. 
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