#LET ME PULL HIS HAIR I AM NO LONGER ASKING
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More Hearts Than Mine-Her Hometown Friends Visit
~More Hearts Than Mine by Ingrid Andress~
Author's Note: back to my fav series
Summary: Her hometown friends visit and meet Luke for the first time
Warnings: swearing
Word Count: 2,871
Luke Hughes x fm!reader
She wanted everything to be perfect. This was the first time her childhood best friends would be meeting Luke and their apartment. Usually Y/N would go home to visit them but they wanted to meet Luke. And it just so happened to be a weekend where Luke would be home because he had games Friday and Sunday at home.
She kept trying to tell her friends that it would be too hard to have them visit on such a crazy weekend for Luke. But Luke convinced her otherwise. They were no longer in the fight for a playoff spot, all he wanted to do was finish the season strong. He didn’t care that they could be a distraction, maybe he needed one.
She was vigorously wiping the kitchen counter for the fifth time that morning as she waited for her friends to show up. They were driving up from their hometown and it was early. Luke was unloading the dishwasher as he watched her frantically spray the counter again.
“My love, I don’t think it can get any cleaner,” he mumbled as he placed the last of the mugs into the cabinet. She let out a groan as she walked away from the counter towards the bathroom. Luke watched her walk away as he pursed his lips forward. “Okay,” he murmured as he closed the dishwasher. He took a deep breath as he wandered away from the kitchen.
“Baby?” he called out as he followed her towards the bathroom. She didn’t reply. He walked up to the door as he watched her scrub the bathroom counter for the fifth time. “You’ve cleaned that four times already,”
“Well, you should’ve said this weekend was a bad time for them to come visit,” she mumbled as she lifted her head to meet her own gaze in the mirror. He leaned against the door frame as he looked towards her through the mirror.
“You put me on the spot, what was I supposed to say?” he asked softly. She took a deep breath.
“Sorry, they’re just overwhelming sometimes with their ‘we’re so perfect, we’re so in love. Our lives are so perfect’,” she mumbled as she rested the cleaning bottle and the rag onto the counter as she turned towards Luke.
“You don’t need to impress them, they’re your friends,” he explained. She took in a long breath as she nodded.
“You’re right,” she mumbled.
“Of course I am,” he teased as he scanned her frame.
“When are they supposed to be here?” he asked as he stepped into the bathroom, forcing her to step backwards. She met his gaze, watching his eyes squint slightly. His cheeks flushed slightly as he slowly shut the door behind him.
“Maybe another thirty minutes,” she mumbled. He nodded as he quickly took a hold of the end of his shirt and threw it over his head. “Oh,” she mumbled as he quickly took a hold of her cheeks, kissing her urgently. She ran her fingers through his hair as he slowly guided her back towards the shower.
She pulled away, reaching behind her to turn on the shower. “I actually have to shower too,” she mumbled as she pulled the shirt off of her frame, he simply hummed as he quickly began to take off the rest of his clothes. Giggles falling from their lips as they stumble into the shower together.
Another thirty minutes passed as she hopped out of the shower before Luke, she wrapped her towel around her body as she walked out of the bathroom. She began walking towards the bedroom, when there were loud knocks against her front door. “Shit,” she mumbled as she quickly walked into her room.
She reached towards her phone that was ringing on her bed. She took a hold of her phone seeing her friend, Delilah, calling her. She pulled the phone towards her ear as she answered. “Hey, give me a couple minutes,” she mumbled into the phone.
“Door’s unlocked, can we just walk in?” she asked.
“No, I’ll be there in a second, promise,” she mumbled as she quickly slid a pair of jeans up her frame. She hopped slightly as she pulled the phone away from her ear. She ended the call as she dropped the phone onto the bed. She pulled a cropped t-shirt as she covered her frame.
She brushed a piece of wet hair away from her face before she left the bedroom quickly. She banged her hand against the door, “They’re here!” she shouted into the bathroom. Luke shouted something back but she didn’t hear him as she jogged towards the front door of her apartment.
She took a deep breath as she swung the door open. She smiled widely as she saw Delilah and Parker. They were her neighbors and Y/N had spent her whole life watching Delilah and Parker fall in love. They didn’t end up getting together until they were seventeen but the three of them have always been inseparable.
Well, until Delilah and Parker got into a relationship. It became the two of them and sometimes Y/N. So it was always exhausting being around them.
“Come on in!” Y/N forced out as she stepped aside letting the pair step inside. Their eyes quickly danced around the apartment as they walked inside. Scanning each corner and each piece of furniture.
“This place is-” Delilah paused, “It’s cute!” she cheered excitedly, Y/N couldn’t tell if she was genuine or not. She delicately placed her bag onto the kitchen counter. Y/N watched a small piece of dirt fall onto the counter.
“Hi Y/N,” Parker mumbled as he walked towards Y/N. He bear hugged her. Y/N smiled softly as she returned the hug excitedly. “This place is genuinely a lot nicer than some of the places I’ve seen in the city,” he explained. She nodded.
“Well that’s because she has that fancy NHL boyfriend, where is he anyway?” Delilah asked as she continued looking around the apartment, looking at the photo frame on the wall. It was a photo collage on the wall. It was a handful of photos of them with their families. One specific photo stood out. It was a photo of them together at her family’s house. Delilah’s smile faltered slightly at the sight.
“He’s-”
“Hey, sorry,” Luke jogged out of the bedroom, a t-shirt and jeans on his frame. His curls dripped water as he reached the living room. Parker glanced towards Luke, a smirk toying to his lips as he looked towards Y/N’s wet hair.
“Nice to meet you, man,” Parker held out his hand for Luke. Luke smiled as he shook his hand.
“Nice to meet you too,” Luke mumbled as he protectively walked towards Y/N. Loosely wrapping his arm around her waist. He shifted his gaze towards Delilah, she had a small scowl on her face. “I’m the one that actually moved into this place, Y/N lived here first,” Luke said as he pointed his attention towards Delilah, already deciding he wasn’t a huge fan of her.
Delilah had a smile form to her lips once she met Luke’s gaze, “Well, look at that,” Delilah mumbled. Parker took a hold of Delilah and the sinister smirk on her lips fell as her gaze softened.
“So Luke’s playing tonight, and we got some lower bowl seats for us tonight,” Y/N offered as she met Luke’s gaze. Parker perked up as his eyes widened.
“Okay, I was trying to be all cool but dude I’m a huge fan of you and your team,” Parker let out while laughing. Luke smiled shyly as he dropped his head.
“Thanks, that’s-that’s great,” he muttered. Y/N delicately ran her hand up and down Luke’s back soothingly. Knowing that he always feels awkward when situations like this happen. He took a deep breath, “I gotta start getting ready in a couple hours, but we can get some lunch if you guys want,” Luke offered, wanting to change the subject.
“That’d be great! I just want to get changed and ready, Y/N why don’t you help me get dressed and put on makeup?” Delilah offered as she looped her arm around Y/N’s and forced her to where she thought the bedroom was. Y/N glanced towards Luke desperately. Parker dropped his head while hiding his laughter.
Luke looked towards Parker. “Want to sit?” Luke asked, pointing towards the couch as the girls disappeared. Parker nodded as he followed Luke towards the couch. They sat down on the opposite sides, awkward tension filled the air.
“I’m sorry about D,” Parker mumbled as he shifted his gaze towards Luke. Luke clenched his jaw as he met Parker’s gaze, “Her and Y/N have always had a complicated friendship,” Parker expressed.
Luke furrowed his eyebrows as he pressed his lips together. “Delilah has always thought there was competition over everything but especially me,” Luke leaned back against the couch, “Y/N and I were friends first, she’s practically my sister. I never even looked at her that way but Delilah’s always had some jealousy towards Y/N,” he explained.
Luke clenched his jaw, picturing Y/N hugging Parker, suddenly analyzing every touch and glance the pair shared. Parker’s eyes widened, “Y/N never liked me like that, practically my sister, man,”
“I believe you, I do. Just confused as to why Delilah thinks it’s a competition,” Luke explained while crossing his arms over his chest.
“I’m not even sure but she’s always asking me why I picked her over Y/N when there wasn’t even a choice.” Parker explained, “I’m just giving you a heads up, it’s gonna be a long weekend.”
Luke let out a sigh as he stared towards the ceiling.
~~~
“Do you remember that time at Frankie’s party when you got into his hot tub withou-” Delilah started when Y/N kicked her from under the table. “What? You don’t want Luke to find out your secrets from high school,” she teased.
Y/N forced a smile as she panicky took a hold of Luke’s hand from beneath the table. He squeezed her hand a few times as he shoved a dramatic bite of salad into his mouth. “It’s not a secret, just not a story I’m fond of,” she mumbled.
“Oh come on, Parker, you remember! She got that dare from Frankie to get into the hot tub naked with Henry and she did!” Delilah tilted her head back laughing. No one else at the table was laughing.
Y/N took in a sharp breath as she glanced towards Luke and Parker. “I only did that because you told me that is the only way Henry would’ve liked me,” she explained, a small smirk on her lips. “And then we dated for two years. So I guess you were right,” she clenched her jaw as she dropped her gaze back down towards her salad.
“No wonder why your dad didn’t like the guy,” Luke muttered. Y/N rolled her eyes as she squeezed his hand. She hasn’t spoken to her dad since Luke moved in, neither of them have made an effort to speak. He still doesn’t approve of Y/N and Luke living together.
“Yeah, well, my dad doesn’t like you very much right now, so you have no room to talk,” she muttered as she pulled her hand away from his. She reluctantly pushed her chair back away from the table. “I need to use the bathroom,” she muttered.
“I’ll join you,” Delilah offered.
“No, I’m good alone,” she forced out as she walked towards the bathroom.
Luke leaned back in his chair as he let out a long drawn out breath. He pursed his lips forward as he reached up and adjusted the snapback on his head. Delilah shook her head as she mocked the few words that Y/N spoke.
“Why is she so cold?” Delilah offered while clenching her jaw. Luke rolled his eyes as he tilted his head to the side.
“I mean, you could ease up on the mean comments,” Luke let out while meeting her gaze.
“Dude,” Parker warned.
“No, dude, I’m tired of hearing y'all make fun of my girl all the time. Just because you guys have been friends forever doesn’t mean you get to be rude,”
“That’s just how we’ve always been!” she chuckled, “We always make fun of each other,” she smiled. Parker frowned slightly as he tilted his head back.
“That’s funny because I have only heard you make fun of her. Y/N hasn’t even made one rude comment to you,” Luke said while he continued staring down Delilah. Parker took in a shaky breath as he cautiously shook his head.
“Who do you think you are?” Delilah started. Luke rolled his eyes, “You’ve been with her for all of five minutes and you think you know what’s good for her? I’ve known her for forteen years, I think I know how to talk to my best friend,”
Luke took in a sharp breath as he tilted his head back as he watched Y/N walk back from the bathroom, he watched her eyes blink rapidly; forcing the tears away from her eyes. He clenched his jaw. She sat down beside him as she rested her hand onto his thigh, He tilted his head to meet her gaze.
“I’m sorry, that was unfair of me,” she muttered. He smiled softly as he leaned towards her, kissing her briefly.
“It’s okay,” he whispered before he kissed her one more time before he shifted his gaze towards Parker.
Parker looked down towards his lap as he took in a shaky breath. “How the hell did you guys just do that,” Parker asked, a dry chuckle leaving his throat. Delilah furiously shifted her gaze towards Parker, scolding him. “I mean seriously, Baby, we never get over an argument that fast,”
“It wasn’t an argument,” Y/N said while smiling.
“I mean it looked like the start of one,” Parker offered. Luke took a hold of her thigh, running his hand soothingly. “Luke, why didn’t you try to defend yourself?” Delilah scoffed as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Nothing to defend, I knew it wasn’t personal,” Luke said as he squeezed her thigh.
“See, if I said that she would’ve yelled at me,” Parker muttered as he ran his hand across his chin.
“I am about to yell at you, if you keep dishing our fucking business to Miss Perfect,” she muttered as she stood up. “You know what, I don’t need this. I’m done trying. Let’s go Parker,” she forced out as she began walking away. Parker reluctantly stood up.
“I’m sorry guys,” he mumbled, he met Y/N’s gaze, “I’m really sorry,” Parker followed after her.
~~~
After Luke and Y/N walked back into their apartment, Parker and Delilah’s bags were gone. Y/N was more sad that Parker went with Delilah than standing up for himself. Over the last year, their relationship seemed to hit a rock, as Delilah's insecurities in the relationship took over.
Y/N sat in her seat, waiting for the first period to start. Luke and the rest of the Devils were in the locker room as the zamboni cleaned the ice. She felt someone tap her shoulder, she lifted her gaze to see Parker waiting for her to move so he could sit beside her. She smiled widely. “Parker?” she offered as she stood up. She quickly hugged him. “Where’s D?” she asked. He clenched his jaw as he quickly sat down beside her.
“Gone, she drove home, we’re done,” he muttered as he adjusted the Hischer jersey on his body. Y/N’s eyes widened. “I mean I’ve spent the last decade trying to impress her and make her happy. I’m tired, Y/N,” he mumbled. “You and Luke have been together for what, a year? You guys communicate better than Delilah and I do after five years together. I’m so tired of every little thing I say getting twisted,”
“I’m sorry Parker, I truly thought you guys would’ve ended up together,” she expressed.
He tilted his head back as the introduction to the game began, “Me too,” he slowly licked his lips as he watched the Devils get ready to jump back on the ice for the first period. “Maybe I’ll find her in the city,” he tilted his head to the side, meeting her gaze. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows.
“I’m going to move here and start over. I need a break from that place,” he explained, “And please drop your ego, I wasn’t implying you,” he said while laughing. She tilted her head back while chuckling.
“Like I would pick you over my handsome sweet boyfriend over there,” she teased as she pointed towards forty-three on the ice. Parker rolled his eyes.
“He’s definitely good for you, I’m happy for you,” he said as he switched his gaze back on the ice, “And how could I say no to free Devils games?” he chuckled.
“I’m glad you stayed, Parker,” she offered as she met his gaze. Parker smiled softly.
“Me too,”
#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes imagines#luke hughes#luke hughes fanfic#nhl imagines#nhl#nhl x reader#nhl fic#hockey#jack hughes imagines#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes x reader#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes imagines#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes#nj devils#new jersey devils x reader#new jersey devils fic
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Knives, Bikes, and Stitches, Oh My!
Summary: Daryl is working on his motorcycle and you watch. Too bad you can't keep your focus.
Daryl Dixon x F!Reader, 1.3k words
Era: Prison (again) because he's just so yummy...
TW: Mention of blood and stitches. Maybe chronic horniness?
Y'all loved my first story and I hope this one whets your appetites just as well! I have no idea how motorcycles or vehicles of literally any kind work, so please feel free to educate me in the comments.
You put the fear of God in Daryl every time he sees you with a knife.
It’s not that you can’t use one. On the contrary, you’re a force to be reckoned with when you’re fighting. Sometimes all that can be seen of you in a fight is the shine of blood-tinged metal as you slash and stab at whatever is attacking with your twin blades. No, your knives are comfortable and at home in your grip. Maybe too comfortable.
“How many times I got to tell ya to stop eatin’ off yer damn knife?” Daryl’s rough accent sounds out in the empty courtyard. His head is bowed low as he works on his bike, not looking up as he speaks.
I’m perched on the tabletop of one of the prison’s picnic tables eating a can of peaches. Daryl, for some reason unknown to me, had elected to start taking his bike apart and putting it back together and I followed along to watch the process. I don’t know shit about vehicles, much less motorcycles, but I like spending time with the grumpy man.
“It’s fine, I’m not gonna cut myself.” I tell him as I tilt my head down to drag a slice of peach off the blade. Daryl’s eyes don’t move from the work in front of him, but I can feel him watching me. I pull the chunk into my mouth and lick the blade clean of the sticky juice.
“Told ya to cut it out.” I’m eating the canned fruit haphazardly, not paying any attention to how close I am to the edge. Daryl shakes his head. He knows it’s a matter of time before I cut my lip or tongue.
At his repeated command, I roll my eyes but pull away from the edge of my knife. I set the can of peaches down and watch him. His brown hair is getting longer now and it’s sliding down into his eyes, shielding most of his face from my watchful gaze.
“What are you doing, anyways?” I ask. I scoot myself closer to the edge of the table and peer down over his shoulder. He has one of his tools in his hand and some pieces of metal I can’t identify. It is roughly the size of my fist and cylindrical. Whatever it is, it looks important.
Daryl glances over his shoulder, feeling my curious eyes looking down. He huffs and continues his task. “Workin’.”
“No shit. Working on what?” I’m playing with my knife in my fingers, absentmindedly twisting and flipping it. Daryl looks up at me through his hair, squinting one eye against the sunlight. My breath catches in my throat, and I try to play it cool.
“Do ya really want to know or are ya jus’ bored?” He asks in his gruff voice. I don’t answer for a second. He looks so pretty. Get a grip, Y/N, I think to myself.
“Really want to know. Come on, I don’t know anything about bikes. Teach me something.” Daryl squints at me for several seconds longer and I’m convinced he’s going to send me inside to bother someone else, but he slowly starts talking.
“’M cleanin’ the carburetor.” He tilts his hand up to show me the same piece I was looking at earlier. “It’s startin’ to get clogged.”
“Oooookay. What’s that do?”
“It keeps the engine runnin’ smooth, basically. Don’t keep it clear and that can fuck up the bike, make it stall or overheat. Gotta take it apart and clean it every few months.”
Daryl lets me watch over his shoulder as he points out different parts of the carburetor and how to clean them. After a few minutes, his gruff voice starts to fade out and my mind begins to wander.
He just looks so good. His hands are greasy and dirty from all of his work today and his biceps are sweaty from the Georgia heat. He’s wearing one of his simple black shirts that already fit him so well and the sweat is only making him look more delicious. I’m watching his hands work over the small brass jets when I feel burning heat in my palm and look down.
I’d been messing with my knife the entire time and cut myself. I instinctively let go of the blade and it hits the concrete with a harsh clang. Daryl’s head lifts at the noise and he spins around right as I rush to tuck both hands behind my back. I look like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar and I’m trying to hide the chocolatey evidence. Except this time, it’s blood.
Daryl’s eyes run over me for a second, then flick down to my knife as it sits on the dirty floor. He slowly bends down and picks it up. “Y/N.” He starts, a low warning in his tone.
“It’s fine! I’m fine, I just dropped it.” My voice rambles out. There’s a high, nervous note to it and I’m hoping to God he doesn’t notice.
He raises an eyebrow. “If yer fine, why’s the knife got fresh blood on it?” Fuck.
“Uhhhhh.” I look around the courtyard, trying to find an excuse. I, naturally, see nothing. “Magic?”
Daryl huffs and crosses his arms. “Let me see your hands.”
I wince. I don’t want to get in trouble, but I can feel the blood dripping off my hand, and it stings. The longer I hold off showing him the angrier he’ll get.
“Y/N. Hand, now.” Daryl’s voice leaves no room for arguments.
“Jus’, don’t be mad?” I ask. He says nothing and I sigh, then slowly move my hands back in front of me. The blood is quickly evident on my skin.
“God damn it, girl. Why can’t ya ever listen to me?” Despite his rough tone, his hands are gentle as he takes my wrist and tilts my hand, inspecting the damage. I risk a glance at my hand. There’s a slash across my entire palm and more blood than there should be. It’s going to need stitches.
“Ya need stitches.” Told you.
Daryl looks up from my hand but doesn’t let go of my wrist. His eyes lock with mine and he gives me a warm look. There’s exasperation and concern and I don’t know what to do with it. He takes a surprisingly clean rag from his pocket and ties it around my bleeding palm, firmly but not enough to hurt.
I can’t help but be surprised by just how gentle he’s being with me. I was expecting a pop in the side of the head and a banishment to Hershel’s cell. I look up at him through my lashes, waiting for my verbal lashing. After almost a minute, I realize there is none.
“Does this mean I gotta go in now?” I try to keep the potential disappointment from my voice and don’t entirely succeed.
“Yeah, yer going to go get those stitches. Ya weren’t listenin’ anyways.” He grumbles at me. “The hell were you doin’?”
I look away from him. I do not want to explain that I was too busy being horny over him to notice that I gouged my palm open. I risk a glance at him and I’m caught by those ocean-blue eyes.
“I was watching your hands…”
Daryl pauses, then snorts. “Maybe instead of watchin’ my hands ya should’ve been watching yours. Go get your damn stitches and I’ll show ya somethin’ else.”
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl fanfiction#the walking dead#twd#twd daryl#walking dead#twd fic#twd fanfiction#twd x reader#norman reedus#fanfiction#ao3 fanfic#ao3 writer#daryl x you#daryl x female reader
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fox!phillip graves
cw: pwp/smut, hybrid!au, fox!graves, bunny!reader, breeding, pregnancy, innocent!reader, possessive behaviour
bunny says: *big shrug*
graves had a thing about taking in strays. the little bunny who came into his nice home. he was a well to do fox, and he couldn't stand the sight of you there near the edge of his property in so little. you were going to catch a cold!
but don't worry, the fox hybrid would take care of you. he bathed you, dressed you, fed you. he was just smitten by you. he even let you snuggle up with him when he watched the football game on the big television he had.
"do you like that?" he asked as he stroked your ears, "do you know what game this is, little one?" he pushed the hair out of your eyes.
you nodded, "i..i think i do."
he chuckled and got behind those long ears, "aw, well. let me explain the rules to you." he then reached over and pulled the throw blanket further over top of you. you were so frail, something this small and weak should be protected. and graves loved saving the day.
when you saw a streak of orange around the large house he owned, you'd chase after it. usually it was graves' tail. you were just so innocent. over the next few days he'd ask questions about your life before he met you.
you were a virgin, you had no bunnies hidden somewhere, yes the tail was sensitive, and you loved stews. it was honestly endearing. he promised he'd make you all the stews you wanted.
you were often cuddled up beside him. he wasn't a wildling like you, he was a proper man. he told you he led a group of strong men. and you looked up at him with those darling eyes of yours.
"but i thought you were the strongest man."
he chuckled and kissed the top of your head. he rubbed your face, and made you look at him, "i am darlin'."
it wasn't hard to get him to sink his heavy cock into your sweet bunny cunt. he sat on the edge of the bed, naked and his cock at full attention. he watched you strip from the clothes he bought for you. you were still getting used to the cute dressed and delicate fabrics.
there was a lot he had to teach you about the finer things in life. he was aroused at the sight of you. his little bunny. who was sweeter than apple pie and softer than marshmallows. he wondered how you managed to survive this long.
"my little bunny." he purred as he took you by the hips and got you seated on his cock. he'd make sure that his cock was situated firmly against your cervix.
"feels big." you whimpered.
"yeah, yeah. always hurts the first time, but i promise you'll feel good soon." he held onto your softer hips. no longer were you skin and bone. making sure you were fed.
you held onto his shoulders as he started to help you get comfortable with the pace he liked. his tail moved on the bed behind him as he watched you begin to move on your own.
"like a pro, huh? you sure you've never been with a man before."
you shook your head, "no. only you."
well wasn't he special. he hoped you'd get used to this position with time. as it was one of the more comfortable ways to have sex when pregnant with kits. his hands trailed up and down your sides. you'd be making a good mama for his babies.
the pleasure began to curl up in your gut as you continued to ride him. he was right, it was feeling better!
"such a cute little bunny." he purred. he looked perfect from those blue eyes to those perfect teeth. with just a bit of his fangs poking out. bunnies and foxes rarely get along, so it was quite the sight to see two fucking.
your heartbeat was in your throat as you continued to feel his cock nudge up into the deepest parts of you. you ran your nails across his shoulders as you arched your back.
"please, phillip." you whimpered.
He palmed your ass and grabbed it, "good girl." his voice was low, "see you know where you are in the food chain." he chuckled softly, his voice was tinged with venom, "bunnies need to keep their cunts full. reason why you breed so fast. but i think you're more suited to live a comfortable life with me. be full of fox seed." he flashed his white teeth at you.
you covered your face your hands, a little embarrassed by your words. but he took them away from you. he looked into your eyes he held onto your hands in his larger hands. he bucked his hips with a rapid movement.
"don't hide yourself from me. i want to see my mate. don't make me tie you up."
"no, phillip." you whimpered. he placed your hands back on his shoulders and continued to thrust up into you. he controlled the pace, he was a man who had to be in control or else.
he watched your breasts bounce with each thrusts of your hips. you bounced on him like it was a game, but he knew that from the look on your face you were feeling very good.
"pretty bunny." he purred, "i love the sight of your little body fucking yourself onto my cock. i have so much to teach you." he chuckled darkly, "make sure you know how to please your mate. but you're a good learner aren't you?" he took you by the face to look at him square in the eyes.
you nodded, "yes, phillip. i'm a good bunny." you looked so cute, how you stuck out your bottom lip. your head felt hazy as you continued to move against him. your bedroom felt hot as did the pit in your stomach.
"gonna breed your little bunny cunt so nicely." he purred, "that's what you were made for right? for me? that's why nothing else tried to touch you in the forest. no one tainted you for me." his voice was harsh as he felt the rush of pleasure in his body.
you two continued to hump together, the two of you fucked like the animals you were. mating like beasts. he couldn't wait until you were all plush with his kits. he knew you'd be such a good mother to them.
he grabbed at your ass and thrusted up into you even harder. he leaned up and made out with you sloppily. you moaned into the kiss as you both climaxed at the same time.
he slumped a little from the rush to his head. he pressed his face up against your chest as he tried to catch his breath. you held onto him as you started to come down. well, you've never felt something like that before.
when he came to his senses, he looked up at you once more. he smiled, "get on the bed. i ain't done with you. not until it takes." there was a predatory nature in his eyes as you scrambled to get under him once more.
a few sloppy kisses on the lips and he sank his hard cock into you. you kicked out your legs for a moment from the feeling of his heavy cock in you. but then mellowed out, accepting that your bunny cunt was going to be used tonight.
-
you puffed out your cheeks and rubbed your lower back. one kit shifted which awoke the other. it wasn't easy being a bunny taking care of two kits.
graves loved the sight of it though. anything you needed, he got for you. he made sure his bunny mate was taken care of! nothing less than the best for you. you were still quite clingy as you waddled through your large home to find your mate.
you were clay between graves' fingers. he was going to make you into the ideal den mother. and he'd be the proud father of all your children. don't worry there was enough room in the house to make sure that your little babies were all safe and sound.
you found him in his office, what he noticed first was the belly as he entered his field of vision. he reached for it and then your hips to put you down onto his lap. he kissed your neck and his cock stirred in his pants.
"my perfect mate." he chuckled, "just perfect. now why don't you get cozy on the pull out bed and let me finish this." he loved his mate. he loved you so much.
this was a lot better than being in the forest. graves may have fangs. but he'd never hurt his little cotton tailed rabbit. <3
xoxo,
bunny
#bunny writes#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty smut#call of duty x reader#phillip graves smut#commander phillip graves#phillip graves x reader#phillip graves#graves x you#graves smut#graves x reader#cod graves#hybrid au#call of duty hybrid au#cod hybrid au#fox!graves#bunny!reader
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CAN YOU PLEASE WRITE ZACH JUSTICE STORIES I NEED THEM SO BAD!!😭😭
Summary: Drunk reader gets a confidence boost, thanks to tequila.
Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, mentions of alcohol, lightweight Zach, fully willing/consensual drunk and unprotected sex, hair pulling, biting, scratching, hair pulling, dirty talk, creampie (oops), general filth
Word count: 2.5k | not edited
“Come on, Zach.” You plead, hand sliding up his arm to grip his shoulder, “Just one shot with me?”
His eyes scan over your hand and up your arm to your face, “You don’t really mean it when you say just one, do you?”
You smile, already feeling kind of tipsy, “You can’t say no to me.”
A smirk plays with his lips, “I can saw whatever I want to you.”
“Will you pleeease take a shot with me, Zachary?” You pout your lip, giving him your best doe eyes with the added batting of your lashes.
“Yes.”
“Wait, really?”
He leans in, lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “I just wanted to see you beg.” He goes to turn but stops, “You looked so hot doing it, too.”
You feel your cheeks turn warm, if you were sober, you would have walked away from him by now, laughing it off like usual.
“Oh yeah?” You look up at him, “Well, I think you’re hot in general.”
He looks taken aback by your words for a split second before he rolls with, “Of course you do, I’m Zach Justice.” He laughs and you roll your eyes, “If Zach Justice wants to come home with y/n y/l/n after this, I suggested ordering us a shot.”
His brows raise, “Huh?”
You chew on the inside of your lip as you smirk, “You heard me.”
“Did I?” He gives you a wink before turning to the bartender, “Two shots of..” he looks at you and you smirk, “tequila.”
Zach’s eyes about pop out of his head before he looks back at the bartender, “Tequila.”
He nods and Zach looks back at you, “Why do I let you do that?” You smile, playing it off, “What ever do you mean, Zach?”
The bartender places the glasses down and you hand him your card, “You can leave it open.” He nods and walks away.
“You know how to do these right?” You tease and Zach licks his lips, “I think, you should show me first, I’ll buy you another one to take with me.”
“You’re trying to get me drunk, aren’t you?” You laugh and Zach watches as you lick the back of your hand slightly so the salt can stick to your skin.
“Kinda seems like you’re already there because you’re no longer the shy, quiet, tease. You’re just teasing me.”
“Shy.. quiet tease.. and now..” you look over at him, licking the salt off the back of your hand before you down the shot, a line wedge between your teeth quickly follows.
Zach stares at you and you smirk, “Did you catch that, or do you need to watch me do it again?”
“I picked up on it the first time, sweetheart.” He scoffs, biting down on his lip when you bring the back of his hand up to lick it before adding a dash of salt, “Your turn.”
He clenches his jaw from being slack, tilting his head as what you just did makes him want to take you home right now, “I see what you’re doing.”
“What am I doing?” You tilt your head and he smirks, “Living up to the nickname I gave you.” You watch as he licks the salt, knocks back the tequila, and finishes with a lime.
You bite down on your lip, “As soon as you take me home, I won’t have to be.” You stand up and Zach whines, “Wait, where are you going?”
You look at him, “Going to find the others.” You smooth your hands over your mini dress, “You coming?”
“You’re not going anywhere in here without me.” He stands up, hand immediately going to the small of your back. Zach doesn’t drink much, like at all, so he was classified as a major lightweight - he was feeling kinda good after that shot.
By the time you walked over to the other side of the bar, you see Tara’s eyes light up as she points, screaming, “No fuckin way! No fucking way!”
“What what what?” Jared asks and Tara laughs, “Did he do it?” You laugh, sitting down next to her as you nod, “Oh yeah, he did it.”
“Did what?” Jared asks, “What the fuck did Zach do now!?”
Zach whips his head over to Jared, “So I had one tequila shot, big whoop. Sue me.”
Jared eyes go wide and his mouth drops, “Tequila!? Oh my god. No you didn’t!”
You nod, “He sure did.”
“How did you get him to do that?” Alyssa asks and before you can answer, Zach cuts you off, “She batter her lashes at me and told me i was just soo hot to her.”
Your mouth drops open, “Thanks, Zach.”
“I’ll make it up to you later.” He smirks, giving you a wink and you smirk, looking away, “In my, defense. He could have always changed the order. Or said no, so.”
“Well, I guess we know who’s taking care of Zach.” Jared laughs and Tara leans in, “Fuckin’ get it girl. Hell yeah!”
You lean in, “Thank god for the liquid confidence boost.” She nods, “Totally get what you mean.” Zach leans over and looks between you and Tara, “I like secrets.”
“Yeah, and I bet you like y/n, too.” She laughs and he nods, “That’s only if she likes me back.” He says it like you’re not even there, making you laugh, “I need more to drink.”
——
An hour later, you’re on the dance floor, Zach holding your hips against him as you move to the beat of the music.
His grip tightens and you turn around, arms going around his neck. You look up at him, smiling as you see him smile.
His hands slide around to the small of your back, pulling you into him, “You ever pull an Irish goodbye?”
“A what?” You laugh and he slides his hand into yours, “I’ll show you.” He laughs and pulls you through the crowd, leading you outside and down the side walk.
You look back laughing harder as you lay your hand on the bed of his elbow, “So you just leave without saying bye?”
He nods, laughing, “Yes ma’am.”
You shake your head and giggle as he pulls you into him, taking a few steps forward with his arms around you. You smile, tilting your head as he kisses your neck, “You know..” he starts out, “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
“Well, looks like you finally going to have me.” You say lowly, turning around to pull him with you as you walk backwards.
“You’re not just doing this because you’re drunk, right?” He asks, making you stop, “Do you really think I don’t like you?”
His eyes look from your eyes to your lips before you both lean in, having a heated, slightly drunken kiss in the middle of the city.
“Mkay. How far from the hotel are we?” Zach asks and you point across the street, “I don’t think we’re far at all.”
“Look at you navigating your way to pound town.”
You lose it, covering your mouth as you laugh loudly, “Zach! Theres people around.” You playfully smack his shoulder and he shrugs, “I feel bad for whoever on the other side of the hotel room.”
You smile, seeing the crosswalk turn green and Zach pulls you, running across the white striped walkway, laughing as he pulls you to him.
You were way more drunk than Zach was, he stopped after half of his third, he had you finish it.
You get in to the elevator and Zach pushes you up against the walls hands on your waist as his lips find yours.
Your hands go to his neck and you moan against his lips. He pushes his hips into yours, groaning as his cock rubbing up against you, “I need you.”
You nod, “P-please.”
The elevator dings and you’re being pulled into his hotel room not even thirty seconds later.
His lips find yours again as both of your hands travel each other’s bodies, unbuttoning buttons, unzipping zippers. You kick your heels off as you step out of your dress that’s pooled over them.
“You are literally so fucking sexy. C’mere.” He lifts you up, legs wrapping around his bare waist before he lays you down on the bed, hand going down to slip two fingers into you.
You gasp at the sudden feeling, back arching as you squeeze your walls around his fingers, “Fuck.” You breathe out, looking up at him.
His fingers slowly thrusts in and out of you a few times, curling upward which makes your roll your hips with a moan, “Fuck, Zach.. please.”
His lips find the skin on your neck, nipping and biting as he keeps working your cunt, gasping at husband thumb brushing over your clit every so often.
“I can already tell you’re going to feel so good around me.” He groans as you reach down, pumping his cock with your hand a few times, “Need you, baby.” You whimper, “P-please.”
“The begging, babe, fuck.” He kisses up to your ear, “makes me weak.”
He pulls his fingers out and you can feel his cock slowly taking their place. Your hands go to his shoulders, digging your nails in as you wrap your legs around his waist, “Oh my g-“
Your eyes roll back as he bottoms out, a gasp leaving your throat as you feel his hand slide up to squeeze your neck, “Feel so fucking good.”
His lips crash into hours, a heated make out underway as he slowly retracts his hips and slams into you. You moan into his mouth, nails dragging up and down his back as he brings you closer to climax.
“Fuuuck.” You whine loudly, walls clenching around him, “S-so close. So close.” You whimper out, laying your hand on his and squeezing.
He smirks, shaking his head as he squeezes harder, “You like that, hmm?” He gasps lowly in your ear, “Cum for me, sweetheart.”
That’s all it took, Zach’s command had you squirming, in a good way, underneath him. His cock guides you through your high, moaning when your nails lightly drag over the scratches that are already there.
He moves his hand from your neck, using it to cup your cheek as he rests his forehead against yours, “Should have made you mine a long time ago.”
You nod quickly, squeezing his cock as you feel another orgasm coming on, “Fuck, flip flip please.”
Zach nods and rolls over, pulling you with so now you’re on top. He throws his head back, hands gripping your ass tight as you slam your hips down, leaning forward to kiss him.
“Gonna cum for me again, huh?” His one hand slides up your back, pulling you down to him. You whimper against his lips, “Y-yes.”
He thrusts his hips upward, not knowing that his own release was right around the corner, “Fuck I’m not-“ Zach groans, throwing his head back as you cum on his cock again, “That’s it, fuck.”
Zach groans, sliding a hand up to the side of your neck as you keep bouncing, “Where do you want me to cum?”
Also thanks to tequila, “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” You gasp out, one hand tangling into his hair as you cum with him this time.
He pushes your hips down, thrusting up into you as his cum floods into your satisfied cunt, “Fuck, fuck.” He groans, “shit.”
You let out a sigh, laying on his chest as it heaves you up and down, “Why didn’t we do this sooner?” You giggle looking up at him.
He shrugs, giving your forehead a kiss, “I genuinely didn’t think you actually liked me.” You laugh rolling off of him, “Well you can stop thinking that and come with me to get a shower.”
He up and walking over to you, “Marry me.”
“I’ll accept a blue raspberry ring pop and blue raspberry only.” You point to him and he raises his brows, “Noted.”
—
Your eyes opened, squinting at the sunlight peaking through the curtains. You slowly roll over, letting out a slow and quiet breath as you blinking a few times before staring up at the ceiling of the hotel room.
You were more or less convincing yourself not to heave up everything you consumed last night - which was a little bit over your limit.
You looked over at Zach, smiling slightly until you remembered what happened last night and just how many times.
Your body literally aches. You have a literal hangover from hell, and you needed to pee. You push yourself up slowly, grabbing his shirt from the floor before making your way to the bathroom.
You pinch the bridge of your nose, letting out a sigh as you flick the lights on. Your all fall on the shower and what happened there, instantly replays in your head.
You let out a moan as he slips into you from behind, your pussy dripping from just a few minutes ago. You reach back, looking for his hand, his arm, something.
He pins your hand down to your lower back, leaning forwards as he pushes his cock all the way in, “You feel so fucking good.”
You moan out at his words, other hand sliding down the steam filled shower door, “Fuck, yes yes yes.” He sucks a mark into your skin, right where people could see if you moved your hair just right, “You’re talking me so good, baby.”
“Y/n?”
“Bathroom.” You call back out before finishing up. As you’re washing your hands, there’s a knock on the door and you look over as it opens, “Thought you left.”
You shake your head, drying your hands on the towel, “Pretty sure we’re a thing now right?” You glance over at him and smirk.
He smirks, nodding as he sees his shirt on your body, “Keep that. I like it better on you.” You look down, grabbing the hem of the shirt, “Are you sure?”
He nods, “Yes.”
You walk over, “Oo. My boyfriend’s first stolen clothing item. Oh, no wait..” Zach looks at you confused, and you smirk, “I have that black knit looking crew neck. It’s in my suitcase actually.”
“I’ve been loo-“ he scoffs with a smirk, “When, how, and why did you?”
“I was going to wear it to the podcast one of these days. See if you noticed.” You smile and he just shakes his head, “Why didn’t I think of that?”
He huffs, laughing as he pulls you in for a kiss, “So you are my girlfriend right?” You kiss him again, “Only if you’re my boyfriend?”
He smirks, nodding his head, “Yeah, I think I can do that.” He smiles up at you and you bite your lip, “How much time do we have before they’re banging on your door?”
“Our door, this is your room now, too, babe,” Zach corrects you and you smile, “Sorry, how long do-“
“I don’t care.” Zach says as he lifts you up, “They can wait.”
——
I really loved writing this for some reason, I have no idea, but let me know what you think! As always, thanks so much for reading! I love you all so much!
Also, I’m sooo close to 3k followers! Thank you all so so much, again!
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
#samandcolby-ownme#Zach justice#Zach justice smut#zach justice fluff#zach justice dropouts podcast#zach justice x reader smut#zach justice fanfiction#zach justice fanfic#zach justice x y/n#zach justice dropouts#zach justice x reader#Zach justice smut one shot#dirty one shot#dirty Zach justice#dirty one shot Zach justice#one shot smut#smut one shot Zach justice#smut zach justice#so that happened#anon request
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Oh my gosh I just read your most recent Lars Pinfield oneshot and I am in LOVE with your writing. Is it possible for you to do one where reader is with him & Lucky during the power outage scene, but like not *in* the main area they are at, more over by the Possessor's room. Hopefully you kinda get what I'm saying lol
I think I got what you were saying. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it even if I didn't.
Watching the possessor try and get Lars’ attention shouldn’t have made you feel a burst of warmth in your chest and yet there you were, pressing your lips together to suppress a smile.
“Can’t play right now,” Lars called as the chair tapped against the window.
You were sitting on the floor in front of the enclosure, knees bent towards your chest as you enjoyed the calm of being in the lab at night. During the day it could be so frantic, all kinds of noises and motions going on as the other researchers worked. At night like this, it was quiet, easy to just exist in your own body as you did what you loved. Especially given it was only people you happened to love still there too.
Or rather, person.
“I know you see me working,” he called over as the possessor continued to try and get his attention.
You stifled a laugh, the chair drooping down in sadness. It was like having a puppy in the lab and Lars had clearly been designated its favourite person.
“If you’re good later on you’ll get a tennis ball,” he said.
The chair perked up, the screech of the metal loud in your ears. You tapped on the glass, bringing its attention back to you. You smiled in, playing with it to give Lars and Lucky the chance to finish up their work in peace. The sound of their work was a familiar backdrop as you let your attention slip away from them.
That was until the possessor slammed the chair against the glass over and over again and the power went out. You were slow to climb to your feet, uncertainty filling your body.
“Uh… Lars?” you called out.
“Yeah, I know,” he called back, “just give it a minute.”
“I’m not sure…”
With one hand splayed on the cool glass of the possessor’s cage, you hauled yourself upright, leaning on it to keep yourself steady. You didn’t like it, the ambient noise of the lab making chills crawl over your skin. You held your breath, on tenterhooks, waiting for something to happen. The tension in the air was ratcheting up the longer it took for the generators to power back on, each second stretching out for an infinite amount of time.
“Lars, why haven’t the ghosts escaped yet?” Lucky asked, slow to make her way towards you.
It was like they’d been waiting for the question to be asked. The possessor slammed its chair against the glass to the right of your hand, cracking it outwards. You snatched your hand back as Lucky screamed, breath catching.
Stumbling back, you felt a cold chill going down the back of your neck. You were slow to turn into the waiting gaze of Bonesy, the skeletal face staring right back at you. Another crack from the glass behind you was loud in the otherwise silent area.
The frantic clicking from Lars on the computer filtered through and you watched as the lights flickered back on. Bonesy was pulled back through the glass as the proton fields turned on, missing you by a hair’s breadth. You slumped forward, relief coursing through you, making you light headed. Sinking to the floor, you did your best to take some deep breaths, forehead pressing to the tops of your bent knees.
“Okay we need to shut that thing up,” you heard Lars faintly say from back in the main lab.
Only then you heard his scream. Scrabbling to your feet, you rushed over, panic taking over your brain. Any rational thoughts were gone, taken over by your need to make sure he was okay.
He was bent over in front of the ionic separator, the brass sphere on the ground in front of him. His groans of pain were going through you, striking you like lightning. Lucky was standing close by, weight shifting from foot to foot, as if unsure what to do.
You grasped his shoulder, feeling him there under your hands, real and still warm. His breathing was coming fast and he was cradling his hand to his chest.
“Lars,” you said, trying to get his attention.
His blue eyes dragged up to yours, the pain contorting his face. You clutched at him, wanting to bring him closer.
“Don’t,” he shouted as you took a step towards him.
“What?” you said, freezing.
“Don’t touch it,” he gasped out, eyes darting down to the sphere at your feet, only an inch from your bare skin. You were careful as you shifted your feet away from it, trusting him completely. He’d never steered you wrong before.
“Lars,” you breathed out.
He was doubling up again, another groan coming from parted lips. With your hands still on his shoulders, you manoeuvred him around the sphere, sitting so innocently on the floor. He followed you, trusting you just as much as you trusted him.
“Leave it there until Lars can tell us what happened,” you instructed Lucky as you took Lars towards the medical centre.
Of course the nurse was long since gone, the bay dark. You flicked the lights on, helping him onto one of the beds. He was still curled up.
“Honey, I need you to tell me what happened,” you said, keeping your voice gentle, trying to coax him out.
“Cold,” he managed to gasp out, “I touched the sphere after it failed to extract the ghost inside and it was cold. Freezing. Fuck, it hurts.”
“I know it does, sweetheart,” you said, “can I look at it?”
He was slow to uncurl, offering his hand towards you. The skin was an unnaturally pale colour, the cold burn spreading over his palm, along his finger, making you wince just from looking at it. Your hands hovered over it, not sure what to do, where to touch, if you even should.
“We should warm it up, right? Oh god, I’m not a doctor,” you muttered to yourself.
“Warm water,” he said, “I need to soak it in warm water.”
“On it.”
He watched you as you filled a basin with warm water, a thermometer sitting in it as you brought it to the right temperature. Offering it to him, he eased his hand into the water. The wince he gave and the shaky breath suggested it wasn’t more comfortable.
“Are you going to be okay?” you asked, holding the bowl steady for him.
“I think,” he hissed, “I’ll survive.”
He looked up at you, standing close enough for his knees to brush you. Looking down at him, you felt your breath catch. It wasn’t your fault. He was so handsome, even when he was in pain. Not that you should be thinking about how gorgeous he was as you were trying to nurse him back to health.
“Are you okay?” he asked, voice softening.
“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t even get hurt. I’m more worried about you,” you said.
“But you were surrounded when we lost power,” he said.
His other hand hovered right over your hip, as if worried to touch you. Before he made contact, he took the bowl from your hands, putting it down on the bed beside him, keeping his hand submerged. You didn’t know what to do with your hands without hold it, fingers twisting together.
His touch rested on them, stilling your wringing hands. You looked back into his eyes, the touch of your skin against his making your heart flutter. The way he was looking at you was making your head spin.
“If anything had happened to you…”
You wanted to know what the end of that sentence was going to be.
“I’m okay,” you whispered.
His fingers slotted between yours, holding your hand. Pulling you forward a step, he tugged you between his legs, thumb brushing along the length of your index finger. Your breath caught.
“We could die,” he said.
“We’re not going to die.” You weren’t even going to entertain the thought.
“But we could. And if we do I’m not dying without ever doing this.”
His hand disentangled from yours, reaching up to cup your cheek. Guiding you down, your eyes fluttered shut, waiting for him. His breath ghosted over your lips before they brushed together. You whimpered, pressing closer, fingers closing around his shoulder again.
The groan he let out made you draw back, worried he was in pain again. He didn’t give you the chance, pulling you back in, kissing you deeper. Clearly the pain wasn’t too bad if he could kiss you with such skill it had your knees turning to jelly.
“Hey guys, is Lars okay?”
You drew back from him, cheeks heating up as you whipped your head towards the door. He chuckled, falling forward, forehead pressing to your stomach. Your fingers found their way into his hair, winding around his curls.
“I’m fine,” he called back before Lucky stepped in.
“Are you?” you asked.
You gently lifted the hand from the bowl of cooling water. The skin still looked wrong, too white, like a layer of wax over his palm.
“We should probably go to the emergency room,” you said, “I don’t think we’re equiped to fix this.”
“Can you drive?” he asked.
“Of course.”
You left Lucky with strict instructions to not touch the sphere and to keep an eye on the ghosts. After the night you’d had, she needed to make sure nothing more happened while you took care of Lars.
And yet if this was a portent of things to come, it was only going to get worse.
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Damian Wayne was like a duckling. A violent, stab-happy, danger-prone duckling, yes, but a duckling all the same. Which means when Danny almost got stabbed by a sleepy, instinct driven Damian, he was able to wave it off with a laugh. Damian, on the other hand, stared in horror at the butter knife firmly lodged in Danny’s arm.
“PENNYWORTH!” Danny jerked back at Damian’s scream. “RICHARD! FATHER!”
God damn, the kid had a pair of lungs on him. Danny’s wince was interpreted as pain to Damian, who gently grabbed his injured arm and started to pull him towards the kitchen’s marble island.
Danny blinked, non plussed as his hearing picked up a thundering of feet as the present family members scrambled towards Damian’s distress call.
“Wait, Damian, I’m fine. It’s-”
“You have been impaled, you imbecile! Had it been any of the other simpletons, they would have-!”
“Ouch.” Danny put his other hand in mock hurt over his slow-beating heart. He literally doesn’t care about the butter knife. He’s just impressed there was enough force in there to impale him. “Are you calling me names now? After- gasp- stabbing me?”
Before Damian could reply, the beginnings of regret, remorse, and guilt on his face, Alfred, Dick, and Bruce burst into the kitchen.
“What happened?!”
“My word, master Danny!”
“What is it?!”
“I’m fine. It’s like a small stab. Not even a big stab. I’m good.”
Dick paled, seeing Danny’s arm clutched in Damian’s hand.
“That’s- that’s a knife. In your arm. How is that ‘fine’?!”
“What happened.” Bruce asked Damian, gently removing Danny’s arm from Damian’s death clutch.
“I- I did not mean to,” Damian starts, guilt coloring his voice.
“He didn’t,” Danny cuts in. “I startled him and got stabbed for being dumb. I won’t fault him for having a defense mechanism like that, ancient knows what I might do if you guys startled me.”
The awkward silence that settled at his words made Danny twitch awkwardly.
“Uh, so, can I add this knife to my collection? Even if I didn’t get mugged?”
“Danny.”
“Bruce.” Danny stared stubbornly back. With his uninsured hand, he patted Damian on the head. He was going to enjoy the fluffiness before Damian’s guilt was no longer enough to hold him back from snapping at Danny’s hand like a grumpy alligator. Bruce loses, obviously. He’s a teenager who was also an ex-vigilante. Batman’s got nothing on a determined halfa.
“Master Danny, I must insist you refrain from getting stabbed. There is only so much gauze and antiseptic cream in the house.” Alfred returned- huh, when did he leave?- with a med kit.
Danny called bullshit because he knows there’s a whole ass medical bay beneath the manor.
“Sorry.”
“No need to apologize.” Alfred said, promptly beginning the extraction of the butter knife.
“Are you okay?” Dick asked, hovering worriedly. “He- are you…?”
Damian was allowing Danny to ruffle his hair, so…
“Yep, I’m good. This isn’t even on my top thirty most painful stabbings,” and it really wasn’t. That honor was given to the GIW and that one time Jazz accidentally stabbed him with her earrings. “That was pretty impressive, actually. It’s like, a butter knife. The other ones had pointy ends.”
“Do not clump me with those pathetic wastes of spaces. I am naturally superior and would… would never harm you on purpose.” Damian said, getting quiet at the end like he was trying to plead to Danny to believe him.
“Of course not. But- if you want help me keep the knife, you can hit me with a mug, it would technically be a mugging.”
The pun got the desired effect. Damian leaned away with a disgruntled look and Dick stopped hovering as close in order to let out a small cackle.
“Done.”
“You should go get changed, kiddo. We’re going to see Tim’s photography at the Gotham Gallery today.”
“Oh, for real?” Danny patted Damian’s fluffy hair one last time, pushing away from the counter. “Oh, I’ll clean up here first and-”
“That will not be necessary,” Alfred scolded, a mop somehow already in his hands. “Please see to it you are prepared for the day.”
“Thanks, Alfred. Can I keep the knife.”
“Very well.”
“Sweet. See you guys later?” Danny pranced off after seeing the nods.
——
“He’s… he got stabbed a lot. Before us, I mean.” Dick tapped a furious rhythm onto the counter. “Not that we’ve stabbed him until now but even once is concerning for a civilian.”
“He was used to it.” Bruce replied.
“Perhaps we should join Todd in his endeavor and ensure that his worthless tormentors are permanently out of the picture.”
“God, he said top thirty. He was counting.”
Damian silently withdrew a kitchen knife.
“No murder with my quality chef’s knives, Master Damian.”
“Tt.”
“Master Jason follows the same rules. Now, out of the kitchen. I may be old, but I remember the last time master Bruce and master Dick stepped foot in here and I will not have a repeat.”
#danny phantom#danny phantom is a little shit#dc x dp#batman#bruce wayne#jason todd#bamf danny phantom#nightwing#dick grayson#alfred pennyworth#Alfred is ninja#Damian is attached#damian wayne#bruce to the GIW: I don’t kill#behind him: a contingent of his pissed off kids#bruce: but they do#danny dropping trauma and lore in one go: lol#Damian’s way of bonding with people is stabbing#Danny’s used to ghostly violence as a way of being a friendly hello#he sees no issues with being stabbed#everyone else not so much
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𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂- 𝘀.𝗿.
pairing- s1!spencer reid x bau!reader
w.c.- 3.9k (wtf omg)
summary- spencer reid is your best friend. you’re in love with him, he wants someone else.
warnings- the jeid narrative in s14 pissed me off so bad i wrote this, miscommunication trope, reader obsesses over his hair (same), idiots in love, wingwoman!penelope
a/n- to be clear i am not a jj hater, i love her. i just don’t like what the writers tried to make happen between her and spencer
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
the soft glow of the morning sun floats through the window, coating the bullpen of the behavioral analysis unit in a peaceful golden light. you bask in the soft start of your morning, a rarity in your line of work, sipping your coffee as your fingers clack against the computer keys. the peace of your morning is ripped from you suddenly, though, when gideon and hotch barge from their offices in quick pursuit of the conference room. the team immediately follows suit, scurrying after one another to follow the two men.
hotch stands at the head of the room, sternly describing the case file he’s just received. there is a serial killer in the d.c. area, obsessed with leaving texts of ancient egyptian script at the crime scenes. as an analyst for the bau, you’re assigned to stay in the conference room with spencer in order to help decipher what the killer is trying to tell authorities. you share a smile with the boy next to you, both eager to tackle yet another assignment together.
you were hired to the bau as a young academic fresh out of graduate school, the same year as spencer. you two initially bonded over your shared love of reading, of analyzing text. it’s this skill that’s made you an asset to the team. you can decipher handwriting left by criminals in order to profile them; you can understand and analyze complex documents left for you at crime scenes, just like in today’s case. you found a partner in spencer very early on. you two were assigned those kinds of analytical tasks often, and proved to be very good at it, good at working together, at being together.
it wasn’t long before the mere sight of him started to give you butterflies, your chest constricting with affection. you cherish the late nights you’ve spent with him, in and outside of the office, inspecting documents and handwriting samples, the times where you’ve reached for the same file and your fingers brush together. movie nights at his place on the weekends, when you get so tired you allow yourself to curl into him, to let him wrap his arms around you, to pretend you’re something more. something in your stomach grows hot, and your palms start to sweat. you barely even notice that everyone else has gone off on their own assignments, leaving you and spencer alone in the conference room together. he sends you a million dollar smile and you get to work.
after a few hours of hard work, you suggest taking a lunch break. your lungs rejuvenate from the fresh air as you eat in the courtyard. you close your eyes and tilt your head up, feeling the glow of the sun warm your face, sighing as the vitamin d floats through your body. you can feel spencer’s eyes on you, and your heart kicks against your chest. how much longer you can take without confessing to him, you’re not sure. the limbo of being in love with your best friend is a torturous predicament to be in, especially when you work with him.
“hey, i need to ask you something,” spencer mumbles, and you see him pull out two tickets to a cowboys football game.
your heart now hammers against you, like a boulder spasming in your chest. your hands are sweating, shaking; is this it? could he be doing the hard part for you?
“gideon gave me these on my birthday. i don’t know if you knew this, but it’s j.j.’s favorite team. i was thinking of asking her on a date with them, but i haven’t watched a football game in over ten years,” he chuckles sheepishly, squinting his eyes down from the sun. “do you think it’s a good idea? i thought i should come to you since you’re my best friend, you wouldn’t steer me wrong.”
best friend. those words pierce through your gut like you’ve been shot with an arrow. you’re thankful his eyes are turned away from you, so he can’t see the infliction of those two fateful words.
“um-yeah,” you breathe out, barely audible, “i think it’s a great idea. it doesn’t matter if you don’t really watch football. if she likes you she’ll want to spend time with you, no matter what,” you fake a smile and pray to anyone that would listen to please convey the true message of your words, what you’re really saying. you know it falls on deaf ears, though, as you turn to throw your half eaten lunch in the trash, returning inside 30 minutes earlier than agreed upon.
“woah-where are you going?” spencer hastily cleans his things and jogs to catch up with you.
“i just think we need to get back to work. this case isn’t going to solve itself,” you shoot him a bitter smile, opening the door and not holding it open for him behind you, like you always do.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
j.j.? you think to yourself as you now delegate your portion of the work at your desk. the thought of being trapped in that conference room alone with him after your conversation at lunch unzips a shiver down your spine. your forehead is resting in your palm as your brain fights to focus on the case, and not drift back to spencer.
you were in complete and utter disbelief that the object of his affections has been j.j. this whole time.
j.j. is your friend, and you’re not mad at her. it’s not her fault that she’s the one spencer’s developed feelings for. you’re just completely caught off guard, utter shock clinging to every nerve in your body. you thought, after all of those shy smiles you’ve shared alone in conference rooms, the late night conversations on the jet, the nights you’ve spent at his place, that they meant something more. you’re just shocked none of it did, and that you’ve completely misread your entire relationship with him.
if gideon gave him the tickets, that means he sees what’s going on between them, too. you furrow your brows, squeezing your eyes closed at this revelation. god, you feel so stupid. how could you have let your own feelings blindside you from what your best friend actually wants? you have no future in profiling, that’s for certain.
you see a shadow looming over your desk from your peripheral vision, and you know who it is merely from the outline of his hair. you look up to find a sheepish spencer reid, seemingly nervous to even be approaching you. you hate that. you hate the idea of him on a date with j.j. even more, though.
“what’s up?” you try to sound interested, but you can both hear the restraint lacing your tone.
“i think i found something. we, uh-we need to gather the rest of the team,” he states.
his voice is quiet, small, his big brown eyes are boring into yours. you nod. the tension grows thicker the longer you stare at each other, eyes desperate to convey everything your mouths are too afraid to say. the file spencer was holding slips through his fingers, falling on your desk with a crisp clack. the noise cuts through the trance you find yourselves in, and you go red as a tomato, looking in your lap to avoid those lethal eyes.
“let’s go,” you mutter, walking past him without so much as a glance.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
over the course of the next week, you spend many work hours nursing your bruised ego in penelope’s batcave of an office. as the two analysts of the team, a lot of your work overlaps, so hotch didn’t raise a brow at the sudden change in your routine, not working with spencer so much. you’re able to tell her about everything going on with him during your brief moments of down time, when you’re filing paperwork or doing light research.
“oh. my. god.” she gasps, aware of your feelings of him from the start, “babe. no way,” she swivels her chair so she’s fully facing you, “i’m sorry! i thought he was into you, too,” she frowns, handing you a unicorn plushie from her desk drawer, “here, take mr. unicorn. he’s the best man on the planet.”
you chuckle sadly and squeeze the soft animal, utilizing its comfort as much as you can. “thanks, pen,” you settle your cheek on the squishy animal’s head and look at her sadly, eyes glassy and big, “i think it was too good to be true. he’s almost too perfect, maybe this is a sign.”
you see her deflate at your defeated tone, her hand reaching out to grab yours, running her thumb over your skin. you stay like that for a moment, allowing yourself to feel the complex emotions you’ve suppressed throughout the week. you’ve only spoken to spencer two or three times this week, about work things only, and it’s wednesday. each day that passes like this weighs heavy, like an anvil on your heart. the feeling is so overwhelming you have no choice but to suppress it until you get home, lest the floodgates are unleashed in the same vicinity as the perpetrator.
paperwork it is.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
that following monday, you sit, stewing at your desk, desperate to blend in to the background. you think back to one week ago, one week since you’ve had that fateful conversation with spencer. you nearly have whiplash from how fast things have changed in only a week. you yearn for the softness of that morning, of the blissful ignorance in thinking that you actually had a chance with spencer reid. your heart aches, the vulnerable throb in your chest paralyzing you. you rest your chin in your hands as your eyes mindlessly drift over emails you missed from the weekend, willing your brain to not work so hard unless absolutely necessary.
you’re snapped out of your pity party by the click of a door unlatching, the soft patter of converse on tile filling the bullpen. your eyes involuntarily follow spencer as he barges in. he’s impossible to ignore, clad in the most adorable button up/sweater vest combo you have ever seen in your life, walking full speed ahead with a scowl planted firmly on his face. the look on his face is so wholly unfamiliar, a look of hurt masking his usually soft features, the light in his eyes gone. the contrast is enough to shock you back to life once more, now registering a flustered penelope hot on his tail. the click of her heels echo through the bullpen in a desperate attempt to keep up with a man who is nearly a foot taller.
“spencer-wait! ugh!“ penelope grunts as spencer falls into his desk chair, immediately using work as a means to deflect. his back is to her as he sifts through the files littering his desk.
you study him from where you sit, his brows furrowed, his shoulders slumped, and lips in a tiny pout that pokes and prods at your heart. penelope gives up quick, turning away with a grunt and a look on her face that read ‘don’t ask’. on her way past your desk, though, she leans in and whispers, “meet me in my office after our meeting,” making your eyes go wide and your heart pick up in speed.
you use the new case to distract your mind from what could possibly be going on with spencer, and opt to stay back with penelope during this case. when you make your decision known in the conference room, spencer flinches. you just barely catch it out of your peripheral, you’re not sure you would have even registered it had garcia not smacked you in the thigh immediately after it happened. hotchner’s eyes flit from you, to penelope, then to reid. morgan coughs. the team is then dismissed.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“she brought you to the date?!” you can’t believe what you’re hearing.
“yes! i had no idea it was the date,” penelope gushes. you’re setting up materials for the case, waiting for the team to land for more information. in the meantime, she fills you in on the weekend, “i’d just assumed it was a separate event. it never occurred to me that she would invite another person to that. poor spencer’s never been so disappointed to see me,” her tone turns a bit guilty at that, and now it’s your turn to flinch at his name.
“that’s insane, why would she do that?” you ask, bewildered.
“to be honest with you, i have a few ideas…” penelope teases, setting up her computer for the day.
your eyes narrow into slits as she files her nail, feet up and resting on the desk as the rest of her equipment loads.
“what?” you breathe out, even though you both knew.
“come on,” she kicks her feet off the desk and swivels to face you, frozen in front of a box of files, stricken by what you both know is coming next, “it’s you. he has feelings for you, for sure. j.j. knows it too, everyone does. we all see it.”
“really?” you once again can’t believe your ears. relief floods your veins, the rush too sweet to pay attention to your conscious, desperate to sprinkle some guilt in there. you don’t care, though, not after the pure and utter agony of the past week.
“yes, of course! he likes you, i have no doubt about it,” penelope states matter of factly.
you round the corner of the desk and come to sit on a chair opposite her, “what makes you say that?” you’re unintentionally severe, palms resting flat on your thighs, leaning into her as to not miss a word. luckily for you, though, penelope is just as intense.
“it became clear to me when i saw them interact at the game. yes his ego was bruised a little, but he was light, airy. almost relieved. nothing like how he came in today,” she remarks, and your brows knit together in confusion.
“so you’re saying he was at ease with her, but nervous and grumpy when he had to be around me. that doesn’t make any sense,” penelope rolls her eyes at your denial, but you’re quick at the defense with a new argument, “and he told me gideon gave him those tickets to ask her out on a date. it’s her favorite team.”
you cross your arms across your chest and lean back, “i appreciate what you’re trying to do for me, penelope, but if the best profiler on the team could tell he likes her, then he likes her. not me.”
just saying it causes the crack in your chest to reappear, callusing your heart once more.
“ugh, no!” she exclaims, “you two are the most stubborn people i’ve ever met in my life, i swear!” she rolls her eyes and turns back to her now fully loaded equipment as your jaw hangs open in shock.
“what is that supposed to mean?” you lightly scoff.
“all i’m saying is that he was relieved that j.j. brought me, that he was being rejected. after the initial disappointment passed, that is. you’re going to have to get the rest of the information from spencer himself,” she decides, just as her phone starts to ring. saved by the bell, damn her. “talk to each other. you miss each other. everybody can tell and it’s getting sad, like watching two lost puppies roam aimlessly without each other.”
before you can give an answer to her crazy analogy, she turns away from you and flips open her cell phone, “talk to me!” she chirps, and hotch’s stern voice brings you back to the task at hand. you’ll simply have to talk to spencer later. great.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
the team was able to land back at home that same night, luckily closing a quick case. after penelope says goodbye to you and spencer, you’re both the last ones in the bullpen. you two anxiously glance around, desperate for anybody else to be there, to break the suffocating tension between you two, thick and heavy with unanswered questions, words unsaid.
as you walk past spencer’s desk, he goes to walk with you, next to you. you haven’t been this close in proximity to him in a week, and the smell of his cologne, his aftershave, makes you heady. you both stop at the elevator, unsure who should go first. you decide on impulse that it has to be you, you can’t take this any longer. you turn to face him, and say the first thing that comes to your mind,
“she brought penelope?”
had it been anybody else, you may have kicked yourself for shoving your foot squarely into your mouth, but it’s spencer, so he laughs. it’s an eye creasing, cheeks bunched up, teeth showing kind of laugh, and you have no choice but to laugh, too. there’s a pang in your heart as this familiarity dawns upon the two of you once again. you’re desperate to keep it, so much so that you don’t move when the elevator dings and the doors open. neither of you do. you stand there, taking each other in, cheeks warm and breathing heavy, as the doors slide close once again.
“yeah. yeah, she brought penelope,” he remarks, red ears hiding behind his slickened hair. your eyes focus on one particular lock that’s fallen over his forehead, nearly in his eye. a sense of longing pierces your heart like cupid’s arrow, you fall in love with him all over again.
“you should wear your hair curly more,” you croak. spencer is unphased at your sudden change of topic, and sends you a small smile.
you’re the only one on the team that’s seen him with his hair curly. you revel in it any time you’re lucky enough to get a glimpse, when you’re sharing a hotel room or his couch on movie night. a strange nostalgia seizes you as you take in his hair, not realizing how much you’ve missed it, missed him until you’re standing there, taking all of him in.
“maybe i’ll start,” he says back gently, another silence falling between the two of you.
“l-listen, i have something i need you to know,” he says, turning to face you, tone growing more confident as he speaks, “gideon told me to ask out j.j. because i’ve been heartbroken over you for weeks.”
time stops.
“heartbroken?” you’re incredulous. “why? what did i do?” you’re nearly panicking, racking your brain for what you could have done to your best friend.
“n-nothing really. i think i heard you talking to penelope about me one day, about how you don’t see me in that way,” he stutters a bit, his head turned down to hide his flushed cheeks, “i thought there was something between us, but after hearing that-i-i just assumed you didn’t feel the same. it made sense, girls like you don't typically go for guys like me.”
your heart cracks in your chest, “spencer,” you whisper out, “don’t say that,” it’s all you can muster. he’s the most beautiful man on the planet. you’ve never been so sure of anything.
he rolls his eyes and you want to shake him until he believes it, “well, he gave me the tickets to try and put myself out there with someone else. j.j. is great, don’t get me wrong, but she’s not you. no one is,” he says, eyes boring into yours.
you take in every word falling from his lips, your brows marrying together. your brain is flying at a mile a minute trying to remember the conversation he’s talking about. suddenly, you stop. your gaze turns to him, eyes wide as the memory comes to you. it had to have been two months since then, but you knew that wasn’t a problem for spencer. if he overheard, he remembers every word out of your mouth.
you were chatting with penelope in the empty conference room. it was a monday, and you had gone out on a date the weekend before. he was the topic of conversation right before spencer came in, how he was ‘so cute’ with his ‘brown eyes and curly brown hair’, how he was ‘the perfect height- like 6’1-6’2’. and yet, you only liked him as a friend. the reality was, you were searching for spencer in every man you pursued, and none of them ever measured up to him. how could they?
“spencer,” you groan, hiding your face in your hands, “i went on a date that weekend. that’s who i was talking about. not you,” the last part comes out in a whisper as realization dawns on spencer’s face, uncertainty dancing through his big brown eyes.
“why didn’t you tell me you had a date?” he asks, puzzled, “is that why you couldn’t come over for movie night that weekend?”
your heart breaks even more, if that’s possible at this point, you wanted to be there. you wanted to be there so badly.
“i had convinced myself that it would never happen. you and me,” you start, and his eyes grow even wider than before, “i was looking for you every time. in every date. that’s why i never told you. it would never work out anyway, because they weren’t you. i wasn’t brave enough to admit that to myself until just now, i guess,” you grow a bit sheepish as you finish your explanation, your eyes glossy. your gaze finds the floor to avoid his piercing gaze. those eyes will kill you one day.
“what does that mean?” he says, so gentle, so spencer.
“it means i’m in love with you. i have been for years, since we started together,” you gush, tears finally falling over your lash line at your confession.
his eyes shut too, a gentle flutter of lashes against his cheek. you see a tear escape down his cheek, too.
“i love you, too. god, i love you too,” he whispers, moving immediately to scoop you up in his arms. he presses the elevator button again, finally getting you two out of there. he keeps you in his arms, carrying you into the elevator, refusing to let go as he squeezes you tight, legs wrapped around his waist as the doors close shut behind you.
as you descend, you reluctantly put your shaky legs on the floor, pulling away slightly to find his gaze.
“hi,” you whisper, biting your lip to try and suppress the cheesy smile taking over. you fail, grinning so wide and so bright, you’re afraid you might blind him.
“hi, beautiful,” he whispers back, brushing your hair back softly with his hand. he then cradles your jaw in his palm, pressing his soft lips against yours.
it’s a gentle kiss, but a passionate one. you both wish desperately to convey every single time you wanted each other, how long you’ve loved each other.
spencer pulls away from you for a brief moment to ask, “do you want to be my girlfriend? i think maybe we should try dating each other,” his sarcasm has you grinning from ear to ear.
“i think that’s the most genius idea you’ve had yet, doctor,” you lean in to kiss him again. he groans at the title, lips surrendering back into yours.
the ding of the elevator breaks your kiss, and you can’t hide your cheesy grins as you walk into the parking garage, your pinkies linked together.
“do you wanna come back to my apartment tonight? we can watch a movie?” spencer suggests nervously, like you’d say no. god, you love him.
“that sounds perfect,” you smile, pulling him in for another kiss. you can tell he’s expecting a light peck, but you deepen it, your hand finding the nape of his neck. your lips softly click together as you move against each other, your tongue just barely slipping into his mouth.
“see you at home,” you wink and get into your own car, leaving a flustered spencer reid in your wake.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#matthew gray gubler#mgg
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࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 08:25 P.M 」
tw: pregnancy. overall, just some domestic dad-to-be gojo trying to show how much he loves you even with how your body changes and all <3 based on a request!
a part of gojo's love entries
don’t think that satoru hasn’t noticed how you linger in front of the mirror these days, touching your body all over—particularly your baby bump. seeing your face twist into a sad frown dampens his spirits too.
on the other hand, you understand that it’s a natural process, but you have never gained this much weight before, and despite already having your husband reassure you before, you still feel somewhat meh about yourself.
“how’s my favorite girl and little rascal doing today?” he flopped down on the bed beside you as soon as he returned from school, caressing your belly. “ready to come out yet?”
you throw him an unamused look. “no, satoru. and don’t make it sound so effortless. i’m the one pushing him out.”
“ahh, but i can’t wait though~”
his palpable excitement actually made you smile as you placed your hand over his. but then your smile fell a bit and he was quick to notice it.
“what’s on your mind?” he asked then. “talk to me, hmm?”
“no… it’s nothing.” you looked away, a bit ashamed. if satoru says he’s not bothered by your figure, you really shouldn’t be thinking about this any longer. you didn't want to make him worry… but it really wasn't easy to let it go.
“hmm, my baby mama can’t be sad,” your husband pouted, and suddenly he pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “she’s the cutest when she smiles.”
you looked up to him, feeling the security in his arms and yet still a hint of uncertainty in your voice. “am i just cute… to you?”
you wanted to be beautiful too. like how he used to sing you praises during your school days.
satoru grinned. and it’s the kind of toothy grin that makes your heart soar.
“no. you’re also pretty.” he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “and you’re smart, kind, nags a lot, gets pouty easily… and you're sweet like a dango, makes me want to gobble you up.”
“so now i’m a dango?” you nestled your head against his broad chest, feeling your face start to heat up, and a smile beginning to curve your lips. stupid satoru. he said all of them so easily it was making you giddy and felt silly for doubting him at all.
“just because our baby is going to be a mochi. and look, you’re so close to carrying him to full-term,” he rubbed your swollen tummy again, this time with a more sincere smile. “i love you the most for it.”
your eyes took a shine, processing his words, and you could’ve sworn that right now, nothing could’ve shaken your feelings for your silly husband.
suddenly your baby kicked you hard as if to reprimand you too for your insecurities, and you winced.
“hurts?” satoru questioned, slightly concerned when you nodded. “wait i’ll tell him off.”
he cleared his throat and began making circular motions on your abdomen, as if to summon him.
“yo, brat. you can’t kick your mama like that too often these days. you’re accumulating karma and she counts it. when you come out, she’ll forbid you from eating our favorite mochis and—”
“satoru!!”
and then the two of you just burst into giggles, and once again, you utterly and thoroughly fell in love with him. for always making you feel safe... and loved.
“you know, satoru...” this time it was you who hugged him, breathing in his scent for comfort. now you were totally worry-free, the softest of smile on your face. “i’m really grateful that... we found each other.”
at your heartfelt confession, satoru felt his chest tighten with warmth and his cheeks flush. he is so blushing and he tries covering it with a chuckle. and the words lingering at the tip of his tongue were—
“heh, aren’t you glad you married me?”
yeah... i’m so glad that it’s you too.
#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#jjk imagines#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen x reader#dad!gojo#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru fluff#jjk fluff#gojo x you#satoru gojo fluff#jjk x reader fluff
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I'm desperate to be raped by any man, to be beaten in the night and dragged behind a dumpster to touch me and denigrate me, tell me how hard it made him for wearing those short clothes while they rub their hard cock against my ass and He tears off my clothes, pointedly ignoring my sobs and pleas, slapping my face when I try to call for help.
He sticks his fingers into my pussy that is just starting to get wet, pinches my clit while he pulls down his pants and starts rubbing against my hole, mocking how I ask him not to do it but my pussy twitches with excitement and drools all over his hard cock. .
He pulls my hair and pushes my head hard against the container while he rams my pussy hard, filling and stretching my needy hole, biting my shoulder while he keeps telling me how dirty I am, how slutty and desperate I have to be to moan like this. that way while I'm raped and fucked like a piece of trash, how he's going to burst my holes until he empties his balls full of semen inside me.
He cums inside me as I sob and beg for more, it feels so good that I cum, my legs tremble and my body shakes from the orgasm, he throws me to my knees on the floor before forcing his cock down my throat to clean up the traces. of semen and covers my nose to continue laughing at me.
I can feel the gaze of some curious person who listens to the strange noises in the alley and his murmurs, I try to let go for some air because my head is spinning, my rapist laughs when he notices that we could have an audience and he lifts me up abruptly to tighten my grip. tits, whispering that he is going to take me somewhere else, with his friends so that he can show them the little toy that he found on the way, everyone is going to like to play and use my holes until they are no longer useful.
The idea fascinates me, my pussy dripping with semen contracts into the void and I cling to the stranger, hoping to find more cocks willing to get into my holes.
#rapetoy#g@ng r@pe#r@pe kink#needy wh0re#dumb wh0re#stupid slvt#r4p3b4it#rough cnc#bd/sm slave#r@petoy#r@pe fantasy#r@pe k!nk#r@pe play#free use slvt#free use toy#free use kink#cnc free use#sluttoy#dick suckers#g@ngbang#g@ngb@ng#cumpdump#cvmdump#cnc rough#free use fantasy#use me pls#use my pussy#use me use me use me
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demonstration
words: 2.8k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, reader is toppers girlfriend, struggling to cum, female receiving oral and fingering, multiple orgasms, edging and overstimulation, protected and unprotected sex, cheating
“maybe you could ask one of your friends for help, top.” you pout, rubbing your hand over his shoulder, not wanting him feel any more upset than he needs to be, but at the same time, you’re not sure how much longer this can go on.
“you can't tell me what i can do to fix it?” topper asks.
“you know i was a virgin before you babe, i really don’t know.” you sigh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “maybe ask rafe?”
“rafe?” topper turns suddenly to look at you. “why him?”
“i’ve just… heard talk from some of my friends. he can probably give you some good advice. i don’t know.” you shrug. “maybe it’s something wrong with me.”
“no, don’t say that.” topper shakes his head, turning to pull you into him, a hand around your waist.
“you ask your friends and i’ll ask mine.” you give as an option. topper nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead, hoping the next time you’re in his bedroom, it’ll go a lot better.
--
“what?” rafe gawks at his friend, unsure if he heard him right or if he was going crazy.
“ive never… i’ve never made y/n cum before and i just… i need to know what to do rafe! i’m worried she’s gonna leave me if i can’t get it together and i guess- fuck! i don’t know! just help me out man!” topper paces quickly, bringing his hands to his hair, tugging on it, stressed out of his mind.
“okay, alright, jesus, just clam down!” rafe says, sitting down on the couch, gesturing for topper to sit as well. he’s not sure how long he can keep himself still, already feeling awkward and nervous about not being able to make you cum, only made worse by trying to talk to rafe about it.
“every time i fuck her, i just get so over excited and cum too quickly and i know this is tmi but i just try my best and every time she doesn’t cum and she says its okay but i know it’s really not.” topper blurts out.
“alright, well…” rafe sighs, pushing his hand through his hair. he’s never had this type of issue before with girls. “do you finger her? or eat her out? before you fuck her, i mean.”
“i eat her out sometimes.” topper shrugs. “she says my tongue feels good and i can make her cum like that, but not when im fucking her, i just don’t know what to do, i just get so excited and… and i’ve never had this problem with girls before, it’s just y/n.”
“to be fair, she’s hotter than any girl you’ve been with before.” rafe comments. it’s no secret, so he doesn’t feel bad saying it, especially when topper nods.
“she’s way out of my league, thats why i’m sure if i don’t fix this she’s gonna leave me.” topper sighs.
“maybe a demonstration could help?” rafe suggests, making toppers head snap towards him, a look of fury in his eyes.
“you are not allowed to fuck my girlfriend.”
“no, man.” rafe shakes his head. “what if i’m there while you fuck her? then i can give you specifics, and she will know you are really trying. she told you to ask me right?”
“yeah, i guess you have a reputation of being really good.” topper cringes at his own words.
“i am. so, let me help you, top. brother to brother.”
--
rafe understands why topper has such a hard time keeping it together as you lay out naked on the bed, eyes flickering between your boyfriend and his best friend, a cautiously optimistic look on your face.
“go ahead and spread your legs.” rafe says, trying to keep his tone even, to disguise the lust that he feels as his eyes move from your breasts down to between your thighs.
“can you get naked first topper? i feel weird here.” topper was shirtless, but still had his shorts and underwear on, even though he was obviously straining against the fabric.
“yeah.” topper glances briefly to rafe before tugging them down his hips, letting his cock spring free.
“so have you ever cum before y/n?” rafe asks.
“yeah, um… with my own fingers.” you cough awkwardly. “and when topper eats me out.”
“its really just when i’m inside of her.” topper says with a thick swallow as your thighs part, opening them wide to show off your pussy, already gleaming with wetness and a peachy pink color that makes rafe want to bend down and bury his tongue inside of your folds, but he has to behave himself, just happy to have this opportunity to see you like this.
“why don’t you finger her first? then you can show me. open her up a little, it’ll help.” rafe instructs.
topper nods, reaching down and pressing one finger against your hole. you tense up briefly before relaxing, allowing topper to push his finger in.
“is she tight?” rafe asks, without really meaning to, but he figures you must be from the way you are squeezed so tightly around his finger.
“yeah, that’s why i can never last.” topper says, thrusting his finger in and out, the slick sounds of his movement squelching throughout the room.
“does that feel good y/n?” rafe asks, eyes flickering up to your face.
“mhm.” you nod, but you don’t feel any urge to moan, needing more. “could add a second, top.”
“okay.” topper nods, trying to work a second finger in, but you hiss at the stretch, primarily hurting around your entrance, despite your wetness.
“gotta rub her clit too.” rafe says, reaching over and pressing a fingertip to your clit, rubbing it. you gasp out, not just from the good feeling but from rafe touching you, like he swore to topper he wouldn’t do before he agreed to this.
toppers finger slips easily in once you’ve relaxed to having your clit rubbed. topper looks slightly annoyed, but he stays silent when he sees how much you’re liking it now, unable to hold back your moans. “oh, just like that.” you moan, eyes fluttering closed.
“see if you can add a third.” rafe says, flicking his finger over your clit before going back to rubbing.
“i’ve-i’ve never been able to take more than two.” you sit up slightly, surprised when topper presses a third finger and manages to begin thrusting it inside of you.
“aw, fuck.” you whine, trying to close your legs, but topper holds one thigh open with his hand while rafe grasps the other.
“keep ‘em open, cutie.” rafe says. “gonna cum?”
“yeah, yeah keep going-” you cut yourself off before you can yell rafes name instead of toppers.
“pull out, top.” rafe says, suddenly taking his hand away, making your back arch off the bed as you squirm, trying to chase their fingers, to get them back touching you.
“no, no, no.” you whine when topper also pulls out, leaving your hole clenching around nothing.
“sometimes if you’re struggling having her cum with your cock inside her, you can edge her first.” rafe says, switching easily back to teacher mode.
“should i fuck her now?” topper looks to rafe, before glancing to you, realizing he shouldn’t be asking permission to fuck his own girlfriend, but rafe has that type of energy, that commanding presence that easily makes him in control of any situation.
“yeah, put the condom on though.” rafe glances to the bed where topper threw a condom out of his pocket earlier. while topper slides it on, your focus on him, rafe takes a moment to reach to his crotch, squeezing his cock and begging himself to settle, to calm down.
topper lines himself up with your entrance, placing one hand on your hip as he lines himself up with his other hand, pushing inside of you slowly as you moan, eyes squeezing shut, obviously aroused and feeling good by him stretching you, so rafe is unsure what the issue is, until topper begins to move.
he’s thrusting too rapidly, overwhelming you. rafe shakes his head, “slowly, topper. deeper thrusts.”
topper manages to get control of himself, slowing down but still not thrusting deeper, and rafe realizes its because of the angle, topper not holding himself low enough to properly thrust.
“here.” rafe grabs a pillow, a different one from the one you’re laying your head on. rafe taps your hip and you lift them as he stuffs the pillow underneath. “try now.”
topper scooches closer, now able to thrust much easier, entering you at a far better angle as he takes you repeatedly, still going too erratically, too random.
“on a beat.” rafe says. “gotta fuck her steady, can’t just jackhammer.”
“i-i-” topper groans out, pulling out, much to your disappointment as you let out a deep sigh. “i can’t, was about to cum.”
“damn, baby, you must be real tight.” rafe glances to you, making you blush and close your legs slightly, which is hard as you are propped up, spread open on display.
“try again, top, it’s okay.” you soothe him, keeping your voice soft and steady.
topper nods, retaking his cock in his hand, pushing it back inside. you nod in encouragement as he moves, already going to shallow and too fast to properly build you up.
“gotta rub her clit too, man. remember she’s already close from getting edged.” rafe tries to instruct, but when topper places his thumb on your clit, his movements are jerky and too harsh, almost hurting as you cringe, but in your displeasure, your cunt clenches around toppers cock and he looses control, moaning as he cums, pumping into the condom.
“shit!” topper shouts out in pleasure, before he realizes you’re looking up at him with disappointment in your eyes. “shit.” he groans again, this time angry with himself as he pulls out in shame.
“it’s okay, top.” you sit up, moving the pillow as you reach out for your boyfriend, or at least attempt to, but he moves away, looking down in shame.
“you’re gonna break up with me now.” toppers voice is sad as he speaks.
“what?” it takes you back, not expecting it.
“you’re gonna break up with me, aren’t you? because i can’t make you cum, you’re gonna leave me? god, i’m so pathetic.”
“i can’t believe you think i’m that shallow.” you scoff as topper pulls the condom off and tosses it into rafes trashcan, who is simply glancing back and forth between the two of you. “that i would break up with you over sex?”
“you wouldn’t?” topper questions.
“you would?” you question back, growing frustrated. “topper, i let you take my virginity, i can’t believe you thought i would do that just… just go.”
“no, baby, listen.” topper begins.
“i’m not breaking up with you yet.” you tell him. “but i need some space, please just go.”
topper can’t hide the tears welling up in his eyes, and he doesn’t want to cry in front of you, and especially not rafe, so he pulls his clothes back on quickly and haphazardly before leaving, slamming the door shut behind him.
you sigh, burying your head in your hands. you wouldn’t break up with topper just because of sex, but his reaction to what happened makes you question everything.
“you okay baby?” rafe asks, making you jump, forgetting he was there.
“yeah, sorry, i can leave.” you move to get off the bed when rafe grabs your wrists, making you stop.
“or you could stay.” rafe says, his voice suggestive, as well as the look on his face.
“i-but topper…”
“just finishing off what he started. come on, you came here for help anyways. lets see if you can cum when i fuck you.”
“i-i guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.”
--
rafe finally picks his head up from between your legs, cunt now bright red and covered in mess due to your three orgasms his tongue and fingers brought out of you, deciding to go for overstimulation instead of edging, now that he was the one getting to have you.
“still thinking about topper?” rafe asks, pressing a kiss to your puffy clit, making you whine out.
“no.” you admit honestly, all of your thoughts have been replaced by rafe. “fuck me, please, rafe.”
rafe smirks, standing up and taking his shirt off, pleased that your eyes glaze over as you watch him undress, jaw dropping open when his cock is revealed, already hard and leaking.
“yeah, i know i’m bigger than him.” rafe smirks as he climbs onto the bed. “but i opened you up enough, didn’t i? or do i need to make you cum again?”
“n-no.” you shake your head, already so overstimulated. “i want your cock, i need it.”
“he always fucks you in missionary?” rafe asks, wanting to make you cum in the same position that topper couldn’t, proving yet another way he’s superior.
“yeah, we haven’t tried anything else.” you say, leaving out the word yet not sure if you can go back to topper after this.
rafe nods, looking towards his drawer that he knows contains condoms, going to grab one before you speak up suddenly, “you-you can fuck me raw. if you want. i’m on birth control.”
rafe can’t help but smirk, nodding as he grabs the same pillow again, placing it under your hips, bringing your tired legs up, thighs falling open.
“tell me if it hurts or if anything doesn’t feel good.” rafe says. he’s sure it’s toppers' inadequacies making you struggle, but just in case he wants to take good care of you.
“mkay.” you nod, hands fisting in the bed sheets as rafe rubs the head of his cock through your sticky folds, making sure to tap against your clit, just to tease you even further.
“gonna fuck you so much better than he ever could. ‘ts why you should be with me instead, baby.” rafe says, not letting you respond or even think too much about his statement as his cock pushes inside of you, making your back arch off the bed.
“oh my god!” you shout out, moaning wildly without care as rafe begins to thrust, deep and hard, hitting spots inside of you that topper has never touched before.
“oh, fuck.” rafe groans out. “you are tight, baby.” your cunt is squeezing him, molding to his walls. “no wonder he cums so quickly.”
you shake your head, not wanting to think about topper, not wanting to feel any guilt or regret as rafes hips swing forward, cock pressing against your gummy walls as he moves a thumb to your clit, rubbing it in that same enticing way that made your high build so quickly last time.
“feels really good, rafey.” you moan, raising and lower your hips slightly in time with his thrusts, forcing his cock even deeper inside of you, feeling his hot skin against yours, the first person to take you bare.
“i knew there was nothing wrong with you.” rafe smirks. “already close to cumming, aren’t you?”
despite your body being tired from your three previous orgasms, you do feel another one building in your stomach.
“yeah, thats what i thought.” rafe moves faster, rubbing his thumb more intensely. “nothing wrong with you baby, you are perfect. perfect tight little cunt.”
“please.” you whine out, unsure what you are begging for as tears slide down your cheeks, purely from being overwhelmed with pleasure. you’ve never managed more than two orgasms in a night, and he’s close to doubling that.
“cum for me, doll. don’t have to beg. wanna feel that cunt squeezing around me.” rafe encourages you, pumping quickly as he pinches your clit between his thumb and finger before letting go and rubbing quickly, forcing the orgasm out of you as you scream, entire body tightening as your hips rise, high overtaking you as your eyes open to see rafe looking back at you, cocky look in his eye, but his jaw is slackened in pleasure as your cunt spasms around his dick.
“that’s it, good girl.” rafe affirms, thumb now gently touching around your clit, bringing you down slowly as his cock stays lodged deep inside of you.
you shiver as you lower your hips, breath slowly coming back to normal.
rafe bends over your body, taking your lips in a kiss. you moan into his mouth, his tongue licking against your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth.
“you just came on my cock, pretty girl.” rafe says.
“i know, i loved it.” you hum, eyes sliding shut as rafe kisses your jaw, obsessed with the taste of your skin almost as much as your cunt.
“hmm, so two more? three?” rafe suddenly snaps his hips forward, making you realize he’s still buried inside of you.
“wait, wha-” your question is cut off as rafe straightens, resuming his same pace as if he didn’t just deliver you the most mind blowing orgasm.
“you think i’d be satisfied with getting you to cum just once?” rafe tsks and shakes his head. “we aren’t even close to done.”
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#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#obx smut#outer banks smut#topper smut#topper thorton smut#topper thorton x reader#topper thorton imagine#topper thorton fanfic#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fic#rafe fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe fanfic#rafe imagine#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron x female!reader
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i am a strong believer in soft and sweet gojo. when he tries being mean during sex, the tears on your face and the muffled cries make him fold so fast. he’d stop so fast and lean down to hug you and whisper so many praises and apologies in your ear. oooooooh my god i have a gigantemasorous praise kink it’s so gross please i just wanna be called a good girl and be treated like a princess :(((
PRAISE KINK: SATORU GOJO
✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: he can't help but go soft when you look up at him through teary eyes. NSFW
contents: fem!reader. p –> v, creampie, praise kink (shocking), cockwarming, unprotected sex, dacryphilic themes, squirting, teeny tiny size kink. halfway through i changed the plot and this ended up way longer than i expected oops!
"good girl, stay just like that f'me," satoru mumbles, white hair falling into his eyes as he looks down at you. his thrusts grow sloppier the closer he gets to cumming inside of you, and the cute way you look up at him through unfocused eyes just pushes him over the edge. "f-fuck, makin' me cum faster than a vi—"
satoru doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence before his orgasm hits him, fast and hard, and his cum shoots out of him in a thick, hot load deep inside of your welcoming cunt. both your chests heave as satoru collapses on top of you, resting his body on his forearms and his forehead on yours. "heh, good job, princess," he exhales, closing his eyes and letting his lips curve into a smile.
"y'did so go— aw, wait, are you cryin'?" satoru breathes, eyes fixed on the messy tears that fall down your cheeks. he slows his relentless pace inside of you to a stop and lifts a hand to wipe away your tears, fingers light and gentle against your wet face. "c'mon, don't cry, baby, y're makin' me feel bad."
"s-sorry," you mumble, voice shaking just enough for satoru to notice. he tuts and kisses your cheek, lips lingering just underneath your eye.
"you did so good, pretty girl," satoru murmurs, lowering his body and lying down on top of you. his face is barely a couple centimeters away from yours, and as he lowers himself, you swear can feel his dick slide in all the way. "shhh, lemme take care of you," he coos when a soft moan slips out of your lips. "does it hurt?"
"a little," you whisper, looking up at satoru through wet eyes. he smiles tenderly back down at you, peppering kisses all over your warm face. his hips rest on top of yours, and every little shift of his body feels like an avalanche in yours—satoru's heavy, especially when you're already weak from an hour of sex in his sheets.
"you're so cute," satoru mumbles, lips touching the corner of your mouth. "n' so pretty, too..." his mouth finds yours and he kisses you slowly, hands involuntarily finding themselves all over you. satoru doesn't bother attempting to speak anymore as he just takes you and all your beauty in—to him, the whole world is less than nothing in this moment compared to you.
satoru lifts his head to let you breathe, a playful smile on his lips the longer he looks at you. "aw, princess, why're you still crying?" he tuts when another tear falls down your cheek. "was i that mean? m' sorry, baby, don't cry, please?"
"snf, it's not you," you sniffle, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. but the second one tear's gone, another trails down your face to replace it. "i.. i don't know why m' crying," you try to explain, but the way satoru tilts his head like a confused puppy shows that your efforts are futile.
"c'mere," he rolls over onto his back and pulls you on top of him, dick still lodged deep inside you. satoru's head falls back onto a plush, white pillow as he lifts one hand to caress the side of your face. "'m not gonna let you cum until you stop cryin', baby."
"why not?" you ask petulantly, thighs starting to tremble from how deep satoru is. even when he's not trying to drive you crazy, he still manages to with how little he's moving now. he already got to cum—in fact, most of his cum is still inside of you, held there by his unmoving dick.
"'cause i'm gonna think you hate me."
"i don't hate you."
"then stop crying."
"fine," you huff, a tiny smile starting to grow on your face.
satoru matches your smile with one of his own and he nods in approval. "aw, you're so pretty when you smile like that f'me," he coos, eyes rounding as if he's looking at the cutest thing in the world—which, to him, is you. "stay like that n' i'll let you cum, 'kay?"
he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and nudges you off of him and onto your back, switching positions with you. satoru pulls out of you, cock glistening with a mixture of your slick and his cum before he plunges back inside and fills the empty space inside of you.
"t-toru—" you mewl out, thighs unconsciously clenching together before satoru pushes them apart again.
"shhh, be a good girl and—fuck, jus' like that," he groans, feeling your cunt clench around him with every thrust. a breathy laugh slips out of satoru's lips, a welcome addition to the wet, pornographic sounds coming from the two of you. "shit, baby, you fuck me up in ways you can't even fuckin' imagine," satoru mumbles, too lost in your shiny, dumbed-down eyes to form coherent thoughts.
with every thrust, satoru sinks deeper and deeper into your welcoming cunt, cursing and moaning about how good you take him. you're not really sure how long it takes for the coil in your stomach to snap—maybe seconds, minutes, even years—but it comes all at once, hitting you with the force of a wave and any remaining self-control you have dissolves.
you babble satoru's name over and over again, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes as he talks you through it—in fact, you're practically getting off to the sound of his soft praises. "fuck, you're so cute, keep takin' me like the good girl i know you are," he groans, lips curled into a drunken smile. "gonna cum on me, baby? c'mon, use your words, i know y'can."
it's a miracle that he can keep running his mouth even as he gives you the best orgasm of your life—but somewhere in the hot fog that's your mind, you manage to gasp out a "yeah" amid satoru's increasingly sloppy thrusts. it feels like he's chasing his own pleasure more than yours, but you don't mind, because a moment later you're squirting all over his throbbing cock and holding onto him as if he's your lifeline.
"yeah, jus' like that, princess, you're so—" satoru cuts himself off with another laugh, chest heaving and eyes wild. he brushes his thumb underneath your swollen lips and wipes the little trail of drool. "fuck, what are you doing to me?" he mumbles, kissing you breathlessly, hardly caring whether or not either of you could breathe.
satoru watches as your eyes flutter shut and runs his thumb over your bottom lip. "heh, pretty girl, you did so good f'me," he whispers, a soft smile on his lips as he gazes down at you. "sleep well, you earned it..."
#osaemu#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo smut#satoru gojo smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#gojo satoru smut#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x y/n#gojo x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x y/n
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Happy 2k babe! I have a request for fluffy Spencer smut based on the song "touch tank" by Quinnie! (the song gives me like golden retriever vibes so maybe you could put something about reader playing with his hair in there? I don't know I'm having later seasons fluffy hair Spencer brainrot and I never make requests, obviously feel free to ignore or change things if this is too specific! <3)
hi angel babe!!! i love this song!! and i too am always having later seasons fluffy haired spencer brainrot!! i wrote this super quick, please let me know if its any good, ILY!!! xo
warnings/tags: fem!reader, softdom!spence, sub reader, fingering, oral f receiving, sorta kinda overstimulation, implicit consent, praise n stuff, not proofread, written at 9 pm on a tuesday night, so fluffy
18+ (smut)
-------------------------------
Spencer is clearly almost asleep on the couch next to you. That’s one of many things you find endlessly fascinating and charming about him—his ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time within minutes.
So you probably shouldn’t speak. But the stakes are low; it’s barely 7:30 in the evening.
“Spence?” You whisper. His eyes don’t open, but his thumb goes back to making little passes where it’s settled over your hip.
“Hm?”
“Don’t fall asleep.”
He smiles, slight but beautiful—yet his eyes remain stubbornly closed.
“Why not?”
“’Cause I want you to be awake.”
“Then you can’t keep playing with my hair like that.”
You pout as if he can see you.
“But I like playing with your hair.”
Spencer hums, and you can tell you’re losing him again as you continue carding your hand through stupidly soft locks.
“One or the other. You can’t have both.”
“I love you both, though,” you complain. “I don’t know who to pick.”
The grin has been steadily fading from his relaxed face but it flickers back to life for a moment.
“I’m getting a haircut tomorrow. That should make it easier for you.”
“What?”
It’s the genuine horror in your voice that finally gets him to open his eyes. A little line appears between his brows as he regards you with bleary eyes.
“What what?”
“You didn’t consult me!”
The momentarily tensed muscles in his face relax and he rolls his eyes affectionately before craning his neck to kiss your forehead.
“I’m not in the habit of requesting your approval before I make choices like that.”
“Spencer, please don’t cut your hair,” you beg, genuinely distraught. “You can’t. It’s so so pretty.”
“It’s too long, baby. I don’t want to grow it out again.”
“You don’t have to grow it out! Just don’t get it any shorter! It’s perfect how it is,” you insist. Spencer narrows his eyes as you plead with him. But you stand firm in your position. His hair is sort of shaggy, sure—too long to be considered cropped and too short to be considered long. It’s like a beautiful curly halo and it’s perfect playing-with length. “I’m serious. I’m asking you to not cut it short, please. This is what I want for my birthday.”
“Your birthday’s not even—”
“Pretty please with a cherry on top? I love your hair so much and I love you more but I just really don’t want you to cut it, please—”
He’s laughing when he silences you with a soft kiss, and you melt, sighing against him as his hand slides up and down the back of your thigh. When he knows you’ve been sufficiently soothed, he pulls away, still smiling.
“Oh my god, baby—are you about to cry?”
“Stop!” you whine, burying your face into a throw pillow and screwing your eyes shut. Your nose crinkles up with embarrassment. “Don’t laugh at me.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and though he’s no longer outright laughing, traces of humor still color his lowered voice as he kisses all over the side of your face. “I had no idea you felt that way. I didn’t realize I’d be causing you so much emotional distress if I cut my hair.”
You sniffle away any unfortunate emotional reactions and turn your head back to him. He’s ducked down slightly, still peppering kisses over your jaw and neck, and you lace your fingers through the contentious hair.
“Obviously I’m not the boss of you. If it makes you uncomfortable I want you to cut it. But I really like it how it is.”
He hums against your throat and the vibrations send a chill down your spine. You arch against him unconsciously.
“You are definitely the boss of me. I don’t know anyone else who I like receiving orders from so much.”
“Hotch,” you whisper, and you can feel Spencer’s teeth against your neck as he smiles and presses another loving kiss to the sensitive spot above your collarbone.
“Not the kind of orders I was talking about. And I don’t particularly care what Hotch thinks of my hair, honey.” He kisses tenderly until he earns a tiny whimper from you—which sates him enough to raise his head until you’re eye-level again. His hand, however, has other plans—it creeps south, slipping under the waistband of your pajama pants. “What if we compromise? I just get it trimmed so it doesn’t keep getting in my eyes when I have a loaded gun in my hands, yeah?” You nod dutifully, looping your arms around his neck as his fingers dip beneath your underwear. When you don’t reply verbally, he prompts meaningfully, “okay?”
“Okay,” you whisper, voice small as you look into his searching eyes.
For a few moments, when he finally pushes his fingers against your clit and begins rubbing with slow, gentle strokes, his eyes are everywhere on your face—then they focus back on your eyes, watching with that habitually intense interest permeated with a sense of devotion—like he wants to see exactly what pleasure looks like reflected in your irises. Like he could see through them to your brain and watch your dopamine transmitters working overtime. A soft moan escapes through parted lips, which seems to spur Spencer on. He drags more arousal over your aching bud and openly chuckles at your airy sigh of pleasure, unable to resist from giving you a short kiss.
“Feels good?”
“Mhm,” you breathe.
“Mhm,” he agrees, kissing you again just as quickly before pulling back to study your face once more. “Pretty girl.”
“You’re pretty,” you insist, with what little brain power is available to you as you rake one hand through his hair. He smiles, eyes pinging between your own and your mouth like he can’t decide where to look.
“I’m pretty?” he asks, speaking over another quiet, yet unabashed moan. You nod, hips bucking slightly off the couch cushion as he speed up the motion of his hand. The grin widens and his soft amber eyes soften further. “You’re so sweet.”
You give him a moan he can’t ignore and he takes it as a signal to slip two fingers into you, sighing in what sounds like relief just as your breath catches. The way he seems to feel your pleasure will never get less erotic. Once he’d explained it—something to do with mirror neurons—but whatever the reason, watching the way his arousal rises with yours is exhilarating.
A squeaking sound is expelled from your lungs and your whole body tenses, propelling you maybe an inch upward involuntarily.
His lips part the same as yours—but only allowing another dry laugh to pass between them.
“Relax. I’ll come to you.”
You hum as he leans down and kisses you back into the pillow—a proper kiss, this time, lips parted and the tip of his tongue grazing yours—all the while, still pumping his fingers much deeper than your own could ever manage. Each moan and gasp he allows you to release freely, only barely parting from your lips every few seconds to let you breathe and make your noises. When his fingers begin pumping faster, and you can hear it, you whine, knees clamping shut as the small of your back jumps away from the couch.
“Fuck,” you pant against his lips.
“Need you to keep your legs open, baby,” Spencer reminds you gently, giving you a peck and a moment to relax as his hand stills.
“I don’t think I can,” you admit shyly, still wriggling. “Um, can you—can you use your mouth, please?”
Your boyfriend chuckles again and your cheeks get warmer. Momentarily you allow yourself to be grateful that his face is pressed too close to your own for him to be really be looking at you.
“You still have to keep your legs apart for that.”
“I know. It’s easier when—when you’re not inside.”
The smile in Spencer’s voice when he replies gives you butterflies as if he’s not knuckle deep in you already.
“I bet you think that’s true.”
“It is!” you whine.
“You’ve never had your thighs wrapped around your head so tightly your ears pop, have you?”
“That did not happen.”
“Only once,” Spencer reassures you. “And I happen to like your thighs. So no harm done. Go lie down on the bed.”
You let out a small chirp as he withdraws his fingers from you and your waistband snaps back into place against your skin.
“Where are you going?” you ask suspiciously, once you’re on semi-steady feet and watching him rise from the couch too. At once he kisses your forehead and grabs your ass—the contrast is dizzying.
“To wash my hands,” he says, popping the fingers that were just in you into his mouth like a preliminary clean up. “Go,” he urges, jutting his chin in the direction of the bedroom door. You hang from him just a second longer, biting back a smile, before tearing yourself away and only half-skipping to the bedroom.
Only a moment or two after you flop joyfully down on the mattress, he appears in the doorway again, immediately noticing the way you’re practically vibrating with excitement and unable to hide your grin as he approaches. It seems the smile is contagious—he’s sporting one of his own as he climbs over you.
“You’re adorable,” he murmurs toothily, kissing you once and then speaking again, “I love you so much.”
It’s exactly the kind of thing that makes you feel all soft and shy and giddy and speechless—even as he gives you one more parting kiss and then is sitting up to slide your pants off.
Maybe even especially then.
The sweetness dissipates only a little, still hanging thick in the air as you kick your bottoms off, and he leans back down, pushing your shirt over your chest and pressing kisses to your ribs and down your tummy. He doesn’t waste much time, only taking one brief detour to suck a mark and sink his teeth into your inner thigh until your breath catches loud enough to appease him. Then it’s all easy—his cool fingertips trailing up and down the backs of your thighs as he kisses all over and around your core. Intimacy with Spencer is definitely a spectrum, and while you can always feel the depth of his love for you in every touch, right now it’s so tangible, so potent you can feel it in your teeth.
You coo when one of the kisses finally sticks, lacing your fingers through the hair you love so much and pushing it out of the way as he laps gently at you. He looks as beautiful as always in the golden hour light as it filters through the window, but you’ve always thought he’s just that extra bit prettier when he’s eating you out.
Visually you’re entranced—it’s only when he begins easing you into the deep end with the flicking of his tongue that your brow knits and you gasp.
“Spencer,” you whisper, and it melds into a louder gasp. “Baby.”
He hums into you, reaching around your thigh to grab one of your wrists. You allow him to drag your hand from his hair and intertwine your fingers, his hand on top of yours, pressing them against your stomach where he sweeps his thumb back and forth over your knuckles.
The display of tenderness only makes you ache deeper in your belly, singing in airy, open-mouthed praise for him with a moan you know he would describe as pretty. Spencer says things like that often. He always talks about you like you’re an art form. When it comes to talking about touching you, he’s especially poetic.
When he begins to suckle, your moans get a little more explicit.
But he likes those ones just fine, too.
“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, though it’s a little choked, as you writhe just slightly against him. “That’s so good—oh my god.”
The hand that’s not holding yours rapidly changes position—pressing your thigh to the side with his elbow while he slips his fingers inside you once more.
At that, you really do choke, your body attempting to sit bolt upright but set off balance by the way your hips buck. You moan, loud, lilting, head still lifted to watch as he begins fucking you with his fingers. Your fingers brush through his hair several times before you’re anchoring your hand in it and falling back.
“Wh—please, baby, I can’t—”
But you can, and you both know it. You always do this; your body sends you signs that you’re over-indulging and fights to escape the stimuli and Spencer has learned to recognize your false flags for what they are. His hand speeds up along with his tongue and you cry out again, fighting to keep your legs open and your hips on the bed as every nerve in your body seems to light up neon.
“Oh—Spencer I’m gonna come,” you warn, all high pitched and synthesized into one word. He simply hums a long mhm in acknowledgment, and decides at that moment to brush his fingers over that spot inside of you which proves to be exactly the right button to trigger your detonation.
You can’t help the way you twist then as your orgasm washes you out—jaw dropped as your final keen starts loud, sputters into silence, and melts into an exhausted whine as your hips wind down. Spencer (wisely) adjusts his position, letting go of your hand only so he can sit up as your thighs clamp shut hard. But he’s still pumping his fingers as you writhe, his own mouth hanging open and groaning as you mewl. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, ready to beg him to stop—but as usual, he knows your body better than you do. An orgasm that you had thought was on its way out gets a second life and you can’t even breathe as you feel it so deep within you, pinpointed to one spot of focus, that you have to curl in on yourself, keeling onto your side because it’s simply too intense.
Either your vision goes black or your eyes are simply closed—regardless, time ceases for an unquantifiable moment, and you come to with Spencer rubbing your back and murmuring your name.
“What did I do to you?” he laughs, not unkindly.
Your back arches as mild aftershocks trickle through your system.
“I don’t know,” you slur. “Dark magic.”
He allows himself to be pulled on top of you once more, and you tangle your hands in his hair again.
“But you’re okay?” he murmurs, using his dry hand to play with your hair and brush over your cheek.
“Mhm,” you nod, eyes fluttering shut once more. Then you laugh, sudden and unexpected to both of you. “I think. That was intense. I felt that one in my soul.”
You smile as he exhales a laugh against your skin.
“Okay,” Spencer sighs after you catch your breath, bumping his nose against yours before sitting up—this time, not allowing you to pull him back down. “I need to take a shower. You should come with me.”
“Five more minutes,” you mumble. He raises his eyebrows.
“But this is your last chance to wash my hair before it’s a whole inch shorter tomorrow.”
“Oh,” you laugh, but it turns deadly serious very quickly. “Spencer, I am not letting you cut a whole inch off your hair. I need that inch.”
“For what?” He snorts.
You smile big, glad he didn’t see your joke coming for once.
“Handles! Duh!”
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fic
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Bathing with him
Cw! : gn!reader....... with some mentions of maybe f!/m!reader, mentions of d*ck, nothing too explicit. written before sunday & aven release!
Aventurine
✦ 01 bb come home the kids miss u :(
✦ 02 Though, by all means, Aventurine never or rarely reveal his ✦ bare naked self infront of anyone. So congratulations for achieving this level of intimacy with him
✦ 03 At first he'd be so cocky and teaseful when you asked him if you wanted to bath with him
✦ 04 "Oh? princess/prince-y here wants to bathe with me? well what's the occasion, or are you just that touch starved?" he snickered with a smirk of a devil in his face
✦ 05 I also think he'd also ask you to undress you to like "sweetie… I don't think I can take off my shirt… can you help me?" and he would be dangling his chest window area
✦ 06 and his pants too maybe, to show you his d---
✦ 07 anywayz, when both of you finally get in the bathtub, he'd be so shy
✦ 08 pls lead him!! princess needs his directions on how to do it correctly :<
Aventurine had a big bathroom. Big bathtub, a lot of space, fully furnished bathroom, a complete set of bath commodities. For you, it was like a dream bathroom. And there you are, sitting on the brims of the bathtub. The water tempeture was warm and the fragrance of the soap that had been mixed with the water was devine.
The door opened, revealing Aventurine in a towel around his waist. You can hear the footsteps behind you. An indication he's coming. "The water is set, you can get it in you'd like" you played with the water just a bit.
Aventurine put a hand onto your shoulder and gave you a kiss on the cheek "Mhm sure, arent you getting in honey?"
"I am, i am.. what, you need help with your towel?"
"Is that an offer, sweetheart?"
"…forget I said anything then" he snorted and smirked hearing your retort
As soon as both of you had done removing eachother's towels, both of you get in the bath tub.
Aventurine, gets in slowly, almost like as if he was scared to break the water itself. Adorable, really. To see a man who acts so smug and so sure of himself, express nervousness when he's just taking a bath with his one and only lover. You noticed his nervous behavior and you cant help but let out a light chuckle, "Scared much, Avey?".
In which he reply "Nonsense, lovely." however to contrast his words, he stammered on his words he spoke. It's not that noticeable, so he hopes you don't notice it.
yet ofcouse you would notice it and scooch over to him closer and give him a little kiss on his shoulder and snake an arm on the back of his waist. Just a way to tease him, just a bit.
He flinched slightly by your touch and scoffed "Devil much huh? oh sorry, I meant hell spawn." you laugh, "Not my fault that handsome here is so stiff. Come on, I'll wash your hair and you wash mine"
He let you do as you please with him. It felt oddly nice to have someone taking care of him for once in a lifetime. You do it so gently with him too, now how could he not feel at least slightly emotional when only such a few people have given him comfort and almost all of them have died? And now here you are, taking care of him like he's a stray cat.
He just can't help it but say
".... I'm glad I met you, I love you, sweetheart."
Jing Yuan
✦ 01 Big cat. Very big cat.
✦ 02 Big cat flop onto the bath tub
✦ 03 Big cat will ask u to wash his hair (uncertain he would do the same tho)
✦ 04 Will sleep if u take too long to shampoo his hair.
✦ 05 Cold water can do the trick to wake him up
✦ 06 Would probably pull you in a huge hug too.
When Jing Yuan got on the bathtub, it was almost as if he hogged all the space that were available. "Hey, how come I don't get a room?" You complained. Which he replies with a lazy smirk "you can just sit on my lap?"
An awkward pause fills up the room, and the longer the pause, the more contagious the little pink blush is on your cheeks which he just cannot help himself to laugh. "Well? Would you like to, dove?" In which you just let out a whine.
Eventually, you cave in and give into his whims. It's not like there's any other way to get in the bath tub without any of his body parts being touched by you. Now here you are, sitting on top of his lap, looking like a confused cat, don't know where to leap next.
It was a sight for sore eyes. You looked cute, now he can't help but let out a playful chuckle and bring you forward to him. "Why so stiff? Is it your first time seeing me stripped? I don't think so…" Worst part, he gave you his signature little lazy smile, looking like he has no wrongdoings.
"That's… Irrelevant, just let me do your hair, baobei." Hence, he let his head down and let you untie his ponytail, and do the rest
While you were washing his hair, his eyelids suddenly felt heavy. He couldn't help it, it felt so good to have your delicate yet skillful fingers all over his scalp. It just so happens that you were doing too great of your job.
"Baobei, it's done~!" You twisted his hair and stuck it into the top of his head. "Baobei?" You called him out again. No response.
Out of suspicion, you raise his head to show his sleeping face. Ah, in all of the places in the universe.. he just had to sleep at this moment, you thought. Abruptly, you had a really… Devious plan to wake him up.
Jing Yuan really just needed to rinse the shampoo away and he'd be done. But instead of using the warm water, just use the icy cold water to wake him up. And perhaps instead of using the shower, why not just pour a bucket full of it? That's exactly what you did.
Sure, it's quite literally deceitful, but at least it gets the job done. It's hard to wake up this big general, so a bucket of cold water could do.
You took a small bucket lying around the bathroom and filled it up with cold water. Little did you know, Jing Yuan was already awake when you were done with his hair.
You swear you didn't feel the water vibrations changing, but somehow, he's already in your shoulder while you were still not done filling the bucket.
"Mmnh… What are you doing my Qīn qīn? Not trying to splash me with the cold water aren't you?"
Drat. How did he even—
"No-no… O-ofcourse not.."
"Then what is it for, hm?"
"I…" You decided to give up from the act. Goddamnit, you were so close!
"you know what? yes, I was, now.. have a taste—!" You splashed the water into his face. Yet, no response. Not even a reaction, single flinch, nothing… Literally unfazed.
"Mhm, it takes more than that to even make me flinch, baobei dear."
Sunday
✦ 01 Asking to bath with Sunday isn't really that hard... But he would reassure you if you want to do it, it's a very intimate action to bathe with one another.
✦ 02 But bathing with Sunday is like bathing with an angel in a cloud
✦ 03 He'd be so soft, delicate. As if scared to even hurt you, make a wrong move.
✦ 04 Though, as delicate as he can be, he expects you to do the same.
✦ 05 He would let you wash his wings, but be gentle with them!
✦ 06 Once again, his touch is so gentle. Like imagine him washing your face with his thumbs just circling your cheeks
"Dear, turn your head downwards for me please?" He asked. Your boyfriend, Sunday, couldn't have been more gentler. He's washing your hair and your whole body with firm yet gentle strokes. You did as he asked and turned your head downwards. "Good girl/boy..." and thus felt the warm water wash away all the foam that covered your entire frame.
"Mm... Shouldn't I be the one praising you, angel?" He let out a silent chuckle "And who's being the obedient one here, hm?" It was a somewhat convenient playful banter between the two of you. Convincing the other that they're better.
Once you're done, Sunday gave one last splash of water to your hair and scrub off any remaining shampoo or soap that still be sticking around. "There, all done." He gave a wet kiss on the forehead. Which you unintentionally let out a giggle. "Hey this isn't fair, can't I bathe you too?" You note, it was true, all this time who's getting the royalty treatment is just you. "Do you want to? If so you could do that.."
An unanticipated idea came up from your oh so brilliant head "How about I wash your wings?"
"..." He hesitated just a bit. If truth be told, he was quite... Anxious to lend you his wings. Just what if you accidentally pulled one of the feathers? "How about my.. body, dear? My hair?" He recommended
"I mean— sure.. but can I wash your wings? Pleasee?" You insisted and pleaded. You even crawled your way to his chest, he felt compelled to kiss that face of yours and hug you tight. Just how can he reject you? "Fine, fine... But be extremely gentle." He sighed.
You started on with his right wing. Once you've held it, the wing flinches by accident. You poured the soap into your hand and started caressing the tip of his wing, cleaning all the dirt or dust that was there. "Does this hurt, sunday?" Through which he denies "no, absolutely not, darling. You're doing great" and purred as you do his wings
As you did the other wing, he kept purring like a pigeon being petted. Perhaps it was to imply that he was very enjoying this.
"Enjoying this much, love?"
"Very" he cood "oh, and thank you, I love you darling.." you giggled in response as you rinse both of his wings "I love you too."
✧ XTRA : i fking gentlemenfied sunday dawg :sob: also this was vv rushed, thats why it keeps getting shorter from aven to sunday (Aven is 430 words n sunday is 400 words) but oddly enough jy is 560 words💀 cringed so bad in jy's part tho like i speedrun that shit & gonna write guitarist bf kazuha after this
#jing yuan x reader#sunday x reader#aventurine x reader#aventurine hsr#aventurine fluff#star rail aventurine#aventurine honkai star rail#jing yuan#jing yuan hsr#jing yuan honkai sta#hsr jing yuan#jing yuan x reader fluff#jing yuan x you#jing yuan x y/n#aventurine x you#aventurine x y/n#sunday honkai star rail#sunday hsr#hsr sunday#star rail sunday#sunday x reader fluff#sunday x you#sunday x y/n#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#honkai star rail x y/n#honkai star rail men#hsr men x reader
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for a heavy request, maybe the marauders after you've been in a car accident, no heavy injuries if you don't want to, but just them worrying? ily <3
love u <;3
“I always thought it would be me,” James says when he sees you, his backpack falling down his shoulder as he rushes to your side. His eyes go glassy when he sees the cut on your cheek. “Oh, no way. Look at your poor cheek. Look at your arm!” He frowns, a deep wrinkle crinkling the skin between his eyebrows. “Sweetheart.”
You shudder as he takes your face into his hands. “You’re really cold,” you mumble.
“Are you in pain?”
“Yeah, Jamie.” You smile as best as you can. He looks so worried. “They pulled a lot of glass out of my arm.”
He eyes the length of your arm wrapped in white bandages. “Yeah? How many stitches?”
“Twenty two.”
“Okay. Twenty two presents, then.”
James helps you settle into your hospital bed. The crash wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it was still too much to walk off. He fluffs your pillow and helps you lay back, pulls a blanket over your legs, and then tracks down a nurse for another when your shivering doesn’t calm. His hair tickles your arms and your face as he tucks you in, kisses your cheek, the smell of his cologne a nice familiarity to cut the clinical sting of disinfectant.
He looks like he might cry when he’s staring at you, but he doesn’t crack. “That’s better,” he says, taking your hand as he sits in the vinyl wrapped chair beside you. “They’ll be here with your things any minute now, and we can get you out of your flirty dress.”
“It’s a hospital gown,” you mumble through a smile. You’d laugh if you had the energy.
“Yeah, babe. You’re practically naked.”
“Am not.”
He kisses your knuckles. “Agree to disagree.”
Remus and Sirius arrive trying to push through the door at the same time. Sirius wins, willing to roughhouse where Remus isn’t, propelling himself toward your bed in a rush. “What the fuck happened?” he asks.
“They went through a red light,” you say, relieved to see them both. Sirius shocks you when he goes in for a hug, quick but careful, his hair smushed into your forehead as he covers the back of your head protectively. “I didn’t see them coming. I was just sitting there and they hit me.”
They drove their car thirty miles per hour into the passenger side, which then pushed you into oncoming traffic. Sudden and then done. You closed your eyes to brave and opened them to find yourself covered in glass and blood with a bruise like a lash down your chest. Explaining it, remembering it again so soon, your eyes fill with tears that you choke around as Remus grabs your leg.
“You’re okay,” James says, giving your hand a good squeeze.
“Yeah, you’re okay,” Sirius says, quieter, his lips cold on your face.
Sirius lets you go after a quick appraisal of your face and lets Remus crowd you. He hugs you for far longer than the other two, not because he likes you more or anything, but because he’s very, very tactile, and because you need it. He sits on the side of the bed and uses his height over you to wrap you up, avoiding your arm but otherwise smothering you in a soft affection. “It’s okay,” he repeats the sentiment of the others, kneading the top of your arm.
Remus looks pale in the bright white fluorescents, but he doesn’t falter nor shake. He has a remarkable talent for turning everything off when he needs to. You shudder like a kid through tears, your arm a constant pang of pain. The whiplash is suffocating. Each breath you takes doesn’t feel like enough.
Remus counts you through big breaths. “Just do it with me, hm? Nice slow breaths. You got it.”
“I’ll get you some water,” James says.
Sirius opens the bag they’d first ignored to unveil a shoving of things, including a water bottle and a three pack of juice cartons. “We brought choices.”
He pierces the carton with a straw for you and hands it over. You sip at it feebly through panicked pants, the straw pushed between your teeth. Remus runs your arm with his thumb encouragingly. “Sorry,” you say.
Three voices chime in at one. “Don’t be sorry!” Remus says, as James and Sirius both say, “No.”
“It was really scary,” you confess, tears slinking off of your lashes as you blink.
“I bet it was,” Remus says, “but you’re okay. We’re gonna get you fixed up and back home so quickly, dove, you don’t need to worry.”
“I’m not worried,” —James winces visibly at your shaky voice and reaches over to rub your thighs— “I just didn’t know what was happening.”
“It must’ve been so scary,” James sympathises.
You look for Sirius through their embraces. He’s frowning, nearly glaring, his gaze on your bandaged arm. “We’ll sort everything out,” he promises, raising his head. “Promise.”
You nod quickly and then slower. “Yeah, I know.”
You’re bathed in hugs for a while. The nurse comes back to see how you are and giggles at your company. “Such handsome boys,” she says, “who’s the lucky one?”
To which they all say, “Me.” She declares them the funniest bunch of boys she’s ever met.
#the marauders#marauders#poly marauders#poly!marauders#poly marauders x reader#poly!marauders x reader#remus lupin x reader#sirius black x reader#james potter x reader#remus lupin fanfiction#sirius black fanfiction#james potter fanfiction#remus lupin fic#sirius black fic#james potter fic#the marauders x reader#the marauders x fem!reader#remus lupin#sirius black#james potter
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in sickness and in health
author’s note: please take care of yourselves everyone! being sick is not fun. dedicating this to my dear @babyleostuff <3
synopsis: when you get food poisoning cheol is ready to sacrifice his night to take care of you.
word count: 1.0k | genre: fluff, comfort | pairing: cheol x gn! reader | warnings: mentions of throwing up, being sick, fever, exhaustion, bad mental health
it was around 12am when you realised something was wrong; you never really got sick, but you could feel it coming before it even happened; head pounding and shivers crawling up and down your spine, making you anxious. after a bit of panicking about why you felt this bad you calmed yourself down and went back to scrolling through social media on your phone, scared of waking and troubling the man next to you. seungcheol was already asleep by that time, being extremely tired from working since 3am, having been to several music show recordings and dance practices. you found him so peaceful as he slept and you were so glad to see him rest after many days of hard work. however as the minutes went by while looking at your phone you could sense an increasing nauseating feeling in your stomach, not being able to focus on the blogpost you were reading anymore, being too occupied with trying to make it stop and squirming under the blankets of your cozy king sized bed to make it more bearable. as if on cue to the peak of your struggles cheol stirred in his sleep next to your helpessly thrashing form, turning to you, his sleepy frame trying to process the cause of your distress. “what’s wrong, my love?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “don’t worry, nothing. go back to sleep.” you tried to sound as convincing as you could. he didn’t buy it. “love, i know something is up. tell me, please?” he begged, more alert when he saw how your protests were interrupted by a weak sob. “i think i am gonna throw up cheol.” you mumbled with a terrified look on your face, trying to stay perfectly still so your upset stomach could get some relief. seungcheol first thought that you were trying to pull a prank on him since you never got sick, but when he looked at your features closer he realised how pale you looked, and how sweat was glistening on your skin. “you sure? like right now?” he sat up in no time as the question left his mouth, ready to take you to the bathroom to let out whatever was making you feel so miserable. you didn’t have time to answer him whatsoever as you bolted towards the mentioned room, getting to the toilet just in time for the agonising pain and suffering of the next few hours to begin. in your hurry you had a hopeless attempt to lock the door in order to shut cheol out; you hated if he saw you in any other state than your most perfect one, if he saw your imperfections, how you felt unwell sometimes or how you struggled with life from time to time. he always scolded you for thinking this way, but you couldn’t stop it; you wanted to be his strong partner, someone who he could rely on whenever he needed to. “i am coming in.” you heard him say and suddenly you felt a warm hand on your back and another one taking your hair out of your sweaty face, snapping you out of your feverish daze. “i am here, you are okay, love. breathe for me please. that’s it, good. let it all out. don’t worry i am here.” you could hear cheol’s voice through your eardums, blood pumping in your veins with much more speed than ever. seungcheol held you close to him as you spat in the bowl one last time, making sure you were really done before placing you on his lap, your knees no longer hitting the cold tiles of the bathroom, only feeling his warmth surrounding you. “my poor baby.” his voice was low and hurt while he kissed your forehead, frowning upon sensing how your skin burned under his touch. “you are burning up. you definitely have a fever my dear.“ he announced, but you could barely register his voice and words; you were utterly drained, barely able to keep your head up straight.
cheol of course took note of this, gently guiding you to lean into him even more while he got comfortable on the floor, cradling you into his chest. “i know you don’t feel good my love. do you know how did this happen?” he wondered with concern laced in his words. you slightly shifted in his arms, looking up at him. “i think i might have food poisoning, cheol.” he cooed at you, kissing the top of your head, rocking you from side to side as you whimpered in pain. “it’s okay love. it will be over soon i promise.” he chanted softly in an attempt to calm you down as exhaustion took over you, the high temperature making you shake with chills no matter how close seungcheol kept your body to his. “love, you with me?” he questioned after a few minutes of silence, but didn’t get a reply; you fell asleep fast, totally knocked out from the sudden wave of late night sickness. he was relieved to see that your immune system was trying to get that much needed sleep to heal, although he was concerned about the effects of not taking medication before your slumber; he didn’t have the heart to wake you so he let you rest anyways.
he never stopped holding you through the night, not even when he moved you to the bedroom and got a cold towel to put on your head, moving a trash can beside your bed just in case, or when he stayed up all night to watch over your distressed form, wishing that you would get better by the morning, kissing your cheek from time to time to let you know that he was there, that he was gonna take care of you no matter what.
#wonijinjin#caratsland#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#svt imagines#seventeen#seventeen fluff#fluff#seventeen seungcheol#svt scoups#seventeen scoups#scoups#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol scenarios#seungcheol fanfic#svt choi seungcheol#choi seungcheol#seungcheol x you#seungcheol
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✷ ITOSHI RIN x reader. fluff, established relationship. reader talks a lot and rin listens. this is actually pointless. warnings: the writing is kinda messy, i think. note: i just really think that rin <3 ! sorry if there's typos.
"shut up."
rin probably says these two words to you more than he says 'i love you'.
yet, he really, really does not want you to shut up.
it's been twenty minutes since you came from your dinner with your friend. twenty whole minutes of you rambling. twenty whole minutes of rin lying in bed, his arms feeling empty since you're too busy turned away from him as you change into more comfortable clothes. twenty whole minutes of him having to listen to your friend's husband's family's problems while his eyes stay locked on you as you throw on one of his shirts and then start removing your make up.
and again, he really, really does not want you to shut up.
but he would really prefer holding you while you ramble, and the fact that it's been twenty minutes and he hasn't even gotten a kiss yet is kind of starting to get to him.
"so anyway, she's basically hated by everyone from his side of the family— and i told her over and over that she should talk to him about it, but she just won't listen to me. god, why am i blessed with such stubborn friends?"
at this point, he feels like he's skipped eight chapters.
and yet he still listens, humming thoughtfully as he shifts in bed a little, pulling the covers over him just a bit more as he sighs in defeat, staring up at the ceiling as he mumbles, giving his own opinion. "shouldn't pressure her into it, though."
you groan, giving him a look as you still stand in front of the mirror while doing your skincare now. "i'm not, i swear! those people suck. she shouldn't be letting them do what they want and i'm sure that her husband would do something if he knew how salty they are."
his eyes go from the ceiling to you, blinking sleepily as he stares at the way his shirt looks on you. "when are you coming to bed?"
"almost done, rinnie."
he yawns quietly, turning around so that his back is to you. if he couldn't hold you yet, he could at least listen to your voice. "then does she really plan to just endure that treatment?" his voice is muffled by the pillow as he asks, setting you off on another talking spree.
"i guess she does. i hope everything goes well for her. but personally, i would not tolerate stuff like that." you say, shrugging as you finally finish your business, before going into the bathroom to wash your hands and brush your teeth.
the few minutes of you being gone and quiet make rin feel as miserable as ever.
he waits and waits, eyelids heavy.
when the mattress finally dips next to him and he smells the familiar scent of your skin products, he swears he's never moved this fast to turn around in bed and latch onto you.
you chuckle as he buries his face into your neck, holding him close as your little giggle turns into a quiet laugh when he groans in annoyance. "you took too damn long."
his hair tickles the side of your face. it's getting longer, you realise as you play with it gently, smoothing over some soft strands on the back of his head while he sighs softly into your skin.
"i talked a lot earlier, didn't i?" you ask quietly, your lips curling into a sheepish smile.
rin stays quiet for some time, his arms around you tight and firm as he presses himself against your side, even going as far as to place his muscular leg over you, caging you in against the soft mattress of the bed. "y'know i don't mind that."
"yeah, but im sure there's a limit—"
"there's no limit when it comes to you. 'kay?" he says quietly, his voice groggy and deeper now as he gets closer to drifting off— almost as if he was ending that discussion right there, not wanting to hear you talking about yourself in such a way.
"yeah, but—"
"shut up." he cuts you off, and you stop talking, only to let out another soft laugh. "if you're gonna complain about yourself, that is. now, more sleeping and less talking. i'll listen to the remaining part of your friend's story during breakfast tomorrow."
you snort at his devotion to listening to your silly stories, a slight wave of warmth creeping up your neck. "fine."
he nods a little, before holding you tighter.
"and i didn't get a single kiss from you ever since you came, by the way."
"oh, i am so sorry. my most sincere apologies." you speak, clearly joking as you shower him with light pecks on the side of his face that's peeking out from the crook of your neck.
he grunts, not being able to hide the redness under his warm skin as he feels your soft lips. his eyes stay closed shut. "ok. good night."
"no 'i love you' or anything?"
he sighs heavily. "shut up."
"...and i love you." he adds, before letting himself relax into his sleep when you let out a satisfied sound and say it back to him sweetly, your soft voice partially responsible for putting him to sleep.
#val.talks#blue lock#blue lock x reader#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x female reader#blue lock x you#itoshi rin fluff#itoshi rin x reader#itoshi rin#itoshi rin x you#rin itoshi#rin itoshi x reader#rin itoshi fluff#itoshi rin imagines#itoshi rin x y/n#bllk x reader#bllk#bllk fluff#bllk x you#itoshi rin headcanons#divider credits: cafekitsune
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